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In the mist-shrouded realm of Noctaria, where night was older than day and the moon hung above the black towers like a bloodshot eye, there existed a legend no child dared to hear after sunset.
They said that once every hundred years, when the Blood Moon crowned the heavens and the stars vanished behind a veil of clouds in fear, the Crown of Noctaria would choose its heir.
Once every century, a chosen one from the werewolf bloodline and another from the vampire lineage would step onto the battlefield, offering themselves as sacrifices for their clans—and for the throne.
Bookmarked by akaheadt
15 Sep 2026