First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Their clash this time wasn’t just fast—it was violent. The sound of their collision echoed throughout the castle. Each strike created bursts of pressure that shattered everything nearby. Xavier’s movements were wild but powerful, his instincts sharper than any trained warrior. Luther’s were precise, efficient, lethal.

They fought across the courtyard, up the stairs, through shattered glass and columns, up to the open balcony. The red moon loomed overhead, massive and bleeding light across their bodies.

Luther slammed Xavier into the wall, cracks spreading like veins around them. ”You’re strong,” he said. ”But strength fades. What stays is what we learn from it.”

Xavier’s grin returned, teeth stained red. ”Guess I’ll learn something tonight then.”

He pushed forward—Essence flaring in his veins, telekinesis amplifying every strike. The Serpent’s Fang split into three blades, moving like serpents, each attacking from a different direction. Luther deflected two and caught the third barehanded—but Xavier was already behind him, elbowing him in the spine.

The hit actually made Luther stagger.

He straightened, eyes narrowing, aura flaring again—stronger, sharper. The air rippled like heat from a forge. ”Enough.”

He snapped his fingers.

Dozens of crimson sigils appeared around him, floating midair—vampire runes that pulsed with killing intent. Each one ignited and shot beams of blood energy toward Xavier.

Xavier slashed through some, dodged others—but one clipped his shoulder, burning through flesh. He gritted his teeth and pushed through, the pain feeding his rage. He slammed his hand forward, unleashing a telekinetic shockwave that tore through the courtyard.

Luther countered with another aura burst—and the entire castle shook.

For a second, neither of them moved, both standing amidst the chaos, breathing hard. The night was painted red by the moon, their silhouettes framed in ruin and flame.

And then—

”STOP IT!”

Reva’s voice tore through the noise.

Both men froze.

She stood at the edge of the destroyed hall, tears streaking her face, her hair disheveled, her eyes glowing faint crimson. The sight of her hit both of them harder than any strike.

”Please,” she said again, stepping closer. ”You’ll kill each other.”

Luther looked at her, then at Xavier, his jaw tight. ”He already belongs to death.”

”Then so do I!” Reva shouted.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Xavier lowered his weapon slowly. Luther’s aura faded, though his expression stayed cold. The moon’s red light bathed them all as the ruins of the courtyard smoked around them—human, vampire, and daughter caught between both worlds.

And somewhere deep inside Xavier, the Essence pulsed again—darker this time, alive, whispering something he couldn’t yet understand.

That night, under the red moon, a god was still being born.

No... it was already there.

Reva’s steps quickened as she closed the distance, her voice breaking as she called out his name. ”Xavier!”

But when her eyes finally caught the sight of him under the bleeding moonlight, she froze.

His face—his fangs—his eyes—none of it looked human anymore. His chest rose and fell like he was dragging air through fire, veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. The Serpent’s Fang trembled in his grip as if alive, runes flaring like a heartbeat.

”Xavier...” she whispered again, reaching out.

Then, with a sharp snap, his knuckles cracked around the hilt.

The ground split open.

A single horizontal swing tore through the courtyard, cutting the marble clean in half. The shockwave threw Reva backward, and before she could react, her body was wrapped in Luther’s arms, wings unfolding around her. The next instant, they were airborne—high above the castle,

When Reva opened her eyes, her heart dropped.

Down below stood Xavier—barefoot, trembling, his hair plastered to his face, eyes glowing brighter than the red moon. He wasn’t just looking at them; he was glaring through them.

Blood poured down his back, dripping from something beneath his skin.

Then his spine twisted.

Bones cracked. Muscles tore and reformed. Two jagged wings burst out of his back, unfurling like broken blades, dripping red onto the courtyard. His shoulders widened, his skin darkened like tempered steel, his fangs lengthened. He wasn’t human, wasn’t a vampire—something else entirely. A monster that wasn’t supposed to exist.

”By the gods...” Reva breathed. ”What’s happening to him?”

Luther hovered beside her, watching with a cold, expressionless stare. ”What’s happening,” he said, ”is what comes when arrogance outruns understanding.”

Xavier roared. The sound shattered windows, rippled across the mountains, shook the air itself.

Luther’s voice cut through it, sharp, disdainful. ”Once a fool, always a fool. I should’ve known his body wouldn’t hold. His greed for power is just unfathomable”

Reva turned to him, panic filling her voice. ”What do you mean?!”

Luther sighed, his tone heavy with disgust. ”It’s not uncommon. When a vampire first awakens, their body is flooded with power—raw, unstable. They’re meant to be contained, comforted, guided through it. That’s why the purebloods have their rituals. But him...” He gestured downward with one clawed hand. ”He’s a newborn with no control, no preparation. That isn’t evolution—it’s self-destruction.”

Reva shook her head violently. ”No! He’s not some beast! He just—he needs me!”

Before Luther could respond, her wings snapped open, catching the wind. She dove downward toward Xavier, ignoring the burning heat radiating from his aura.

But she didn’t make it far.

In a blink, Luther’s hand shot out. Crimson tendrils erupted from his palm—pure blood manifesting as chains—and they wrapped around her mid-flight, yanking her back hard.

”Stop this!” she screamed, thrashing against the bonds. ”You’ll kill him!”

Luther’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. ”If he stays like this, he’ll kill you, and everything else in his path.”

The chains tightened, and he turned his gaze aside. ”You will stay out of this.”

He flicked his wrist, and Reva was hurled to the castle bridge, landing hard against the stone floor. Runes flared beneath her as the crimson chains sank into the stone, locking her in place.

”Let me go!” she shouted, pulling, clawing at them as her wings flared in vain. ”Please, Father! I can bring him back! Just let me try!”

Luther ignored her and looked toward the nearest sentry. ”Take her to the lower chambers. Don’t let her out until I say otherwise.”

The high-ranking guard bowed once and motioned for his men. They hesitated, hearing Reva’s screams echo through the courtyard, but followed orders.

”No! Don’t hurt him! Don’t—Father, don’t you dare!” Her voice cracked as she was dragged away, the echoes fading into the halls.

Luther stood silent long after she was gone. The red moonlight gleamed off his armor. His wings spread wide as he gazed down at the creature that was once Xavier.

The boy’s body was trembling, his claws digging into the stone, his breath harsh and ragged. His crimson eyes had gone dull, the last fragments of sanity flickering in and out like a dying flame.

Luther’s face didn’t waver—not an inch of pity, not a sliver of doubt.

He simply sighed, his voice low and tired, but heavy enough to shake the walls.

”Pathetic.”

He unsheathed his blade, its edge glimmering in the moonlight. ”Let’s end your misery before you shame her further.”

And as the red moon watched, two predators—one born of centuries, the other of chaos—faced each other in silence.