While Noah and Selene enjoyed a carefree night, far from political tensions, something brutal was unfolding in the neighboring country. In Serbia, an ancient pure-blood wizarding family was exterminated in their own mansion. No one was spared—not the servants, not the children. The walls were covered in strange symbols written in blood, and the bodies were arranged in a ritual pattern, their blood completely drained.
The next morning, the news spread across Europe like a spark in a dry field. Magical communities went into high alert, and rumors quickly pointed to a single suspect: the Twilight Empire.
In the throne room, the council members had gathered for an emergency meeting. Noah watched them from his dark throne, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping on the armrest. His face, completely devoid of emotion, contrasted with the nervousness of those present.
"This has gone too far," said one of the elders, raising his voice. "We can't sit idly by while we're being blamed for murder. This was a direct provocation!"
"And yet we still don't know who did it," replied Noah, not even bothering to hide the boredom in his tone. "Yelling won't bring the truth to light."
The elder frowned and took a step forward.
"And you plan to just sit there while we're dragged into war? If you don't act now, you'll risk everything we've built. If you won't lead, then step aside!"
The room fell silent.
Noah looked at him for a moment without moving, then exhaled softly.
Before the elder could continue with his threats, a blast of icy wind swept through the hall. He barely had time to blink.
A wet crunch echoed as a massive, furry claw burst through his chest. The elder looked down, paralyzed, watching as his still-beating heart was ripped from his body. He collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
Behind him, in his werewolf form, Fenrir growled with a satisfied snarl. He stared at the pulsing heart for a moment and, without a word, crushed it into bloody pieces that splattered across the marble floor. Then he looked up at the other council members, who instinctively backed away, pale-faced.
"Pathetic," Selene growled as she stepped forward, her voice soft and icy. "One family gets wiped out and you're already trembling like mice."
She walked slowly in front of the elders, arms crossed.
"Do you really think this was a coincidence? They're provoking us—trying to make us overreact to justify a war. But instead of investigating, instead of acting, you sit around waiting for the king to fix everything for you."
She stopped, her cold gaze piercing each of them in turn.
"If you're so afraid of what's coming, maybe you should ask yourselves whether you even deserve to be here."
Noah remained seated on his throne, saying nothing, watching the scene with the same indifferent expression as before.
The next morning, the headline of The Arcane Herald, the most-read magical newspaper in Europe, shocked everyone:
"Adrian Tepes Breaks the Silence: 'My People Will Not Be the Scapegoat of Your Fears'"
The main article featured a photo of Noah—under his identity as Adrian Tepes—seated in an elegant office, his gaze firm, his posture calm yet authoritative. Beside him, the emblem of the Twilight Empire gleamed discreetly.
In his public statement, Noah was direct:
> "The recent massacre in Serbia is a despicable act that I deeply regret. But let me be clear: neither I nor my people are involved. These rumors tying us to such atrocities are part of a calculated effort to discredit the Twilight Empire and justify future aggression against us."
> "We will not respond with violence, because we do not seek revenge. What we seek is truth. My duty as a leader is to protect my people—and that includes clearing our name of all baseless suspicion."
> "I urge the international magical community not to be swayed by fear or manipulation. I will work tirelessly to find the true culprits—not out of pride, but for the sake of justice."
Reactions came quickly. Some praised his composure, others accused him of hypocrisy. But the message was clear: Noah had no intention of backing down, and now the magical world was split between those who feared the Twilight Empire… and those who were beginning to see it as the victim of deeper intrigue.
A month passed after the public statement. During that time, tensions seemed to ease slightly. There were no new attacks, and many began to believe it had all been an unfortunate coincidence—or a failed sabotage attempt by a third party.
But the calm didn't last.
Discreetly, reports of disappearances began to circulate. Not many at first, but they shared a disturbing pattern: all the victims were members of ancient pure-blood families. And they all vanished without a trace—no signs of struggle, no witnesses.
Concern grew.
One night, in a mansion protected by ancient magical wards in northern France, a secret meeting took place. Seated around an enchanted table were representatives of several magical nations, their expressions grim and their gazes tense. At the center, dressed in burgundy robes with a somber look, sat Albus Dumbledore.
"We can't keep ignoring this," said one of the representatives, a German minister.
"The coincidences are over. Someone is hunting us."
"There's no direct evidence linking the Twilight Empire," another added cautiously. "If we accuse them without proof, we might push that kingdom to declare war."
Dumbledore remained silent for a few seconds before speaking in a firm voice:
"Adrian Tepes… is an individual whose power should not exist in this world. What he has gathered under his command is not a mere army—it is a coalition of dark forces, marginalized for centuries. A new order is being born under his shadow, and if we do nothing, that order will be imposed by force."
"Do you believe he's behind the disappearances?" someone asked, clearly worried.
"I have no proof, but I have certainties," Dumbledore replied with a serious expression. "It's not a matter of if he will attack. It's a matter of when."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"We've faced dark lords before," one of those present murmured.
"He's not like the others," said Dumbledore.
"This time… we might not get another chance."
A week after the secret meeting, a serious incident put the entire magical world on alert.
In Spain, a vampire attacked the heir of a pure-blood family—a young man staying at one of the family's isolated estates. Fortunately, the boy's father, an experienced wizard with connections in the magical community, managed to rescue his son, but not before the vampire caused considerable damage.
The attack was not just an assassination attempt; it was also marked with symbols indicating a mission ordered from the shadows.
The vampire was captured alive and quickly taken to a secure location, where his memories were extracted through a series of spells.
Once the extraction spell was performed, images began to flow before the eyes of the young man's father and several council members who had been summoned. In the vampire's memory, one fragment in particular captured everyone's attention.
In the vision, Adrian Tepes sat comfortably on his dark throne. Around him, several pale-skinned, shadow-eyed elders—those who had sworn loyalty to the Twilight Empire—calmly discussed their next steps.
"It is time," said one of the elders, looking toward Noah.
"The continent is only the first step. Once we have it, dark magic can spread beyond the known borders."
Noah listened in silence, a slight smile on his face. His gaze was calculating, as if he were watching the chessboard of his life unfold before him.
Suddenly, one of the elders approached the vampire. With a gentle gesture, he handed him a sealed envelope.
"Here is the identity of your target. A crucial piece in our plans."
Then, the same elder approached the others kneeling at his side, handing out similar envelopes.
The vision ended there, just before the vampire was dragged back into his memories.
The young man's father, watching the scene, shuddered upon realizing that Noah not only had the power to gather and command so many creatures of the night, but was also organizing a strategic offensive—systematically targeting pure-blood families one by one.
"I knew it…" the young man's father murmured, looking toward the council with concern.
"The Twilight King doesn't just want power… he wants to control the entire magical world."
The alarm spread quickly through the magical community.
The Twilight Empire was no mere threat—it was a rising empire, fueled by intrigue, manipulation, and brutal force. And worst of all, it seemed the war had only just begun.