A sharp sound filled the air, the whistle of flying arrows and crossbow bolts, quickly followed by cries of pain rained down across the stone walls of Castle Volkihar. The voices of dozens of his brothers all crying out at once, dropping to their knees. Drakus' eyes darted around quickly, looking for the source of the whistling noise, before he frowned.

As the cries of pain changed to shouts of anger and shock as the vampires noticed their fallen brothers, a snarl ripped through Drakus' throat, tearing through his lips as he transforms, his skin losing what colour it had left, two bony wings bursting out from his back as he grew taller and more muscular, ripping through his clothing. His heightened senses helped him to see... His eyes were still useless, but he could hear them now... The fast beat of their hearts as they pounded against their ribcages... The soft rustle of their fingertips over their weapons.

With a scream of bloodlust, Drakus darts forward and swipes at one of the invisible crossbow holders by the balcony, his powerful arm in his vampire lord form throwing the attacker off the balcony with ease.