Chapter 117 - The Great Awakening… Again?

  The journey had been long, stretching across hours of relentless travel, but now, as the first light of dawn barely began to graze the horizon, the group finally approached their destination. Rising before them in the distance was the capital of the vampires—the once-mighty city of Velmoria.

  At first, the landscape offered little warning of what lay ahead. The terrain had shifted gradually, the open plains giving way to rougher ground, the occasional twisted tree standing like skeletal remains against the dim glow of the sky. Then, in the far distance, emerging like the remnants of a long-dead kingdom, they saw it.

  At this distance, Velmoria looked more like a fortress than a city, its high, blackened walls standing defiant against the passage of time and war. But even from here, it was clear that the city was barely holding on.

  The walls, once likely an impenetrable defense, were no longer whole. Massive sections had crumbled away, leaving jagged scars of destruction where the great fortifications had once stood firm. Cracks webbed through the remaining stonework, like the veins of a dying beast, each fracture a silent testament to the battles that had raged upon this soil.

  There were no bodies, no remnants of soldiers or fallen warriors, only the ruins of destruction left in their wake. It was evident that Velmoria had suffered countless attacks, but there were no signs of recent skirmishes. No paladins lingered at the perimeter, no human forces lay in wait outside the gates, and yet, despite the eerie silence of the battlefield, it was clear that this place had been in a constant state of siege.

  Closer now, Adam and the others could see movement—small, frantic figures moving along the broken edges of the fortress. It became evident that the city was not abandoned. Vampires, dozens upon dozens of them, were laboring tirelessly along the outer defenses. Some stood on rickety scaffolding, hammering crude wooden beams into place to hold up shattered portions of the walls. Others worked in teams, dragging heavy stones across the ground, their hands bloodied and raw from the effort. It was a desperate attempt at reconstruction, a battle against time itself to keep their home from collapsing under its own wounds.

  The structures they had built to aid their work were pitiful at best. Wooden frames leaned precariously against the walls, makeshift ladders and planks bridging gaps where the fortress had been torn apart. There were no proper tools, no real supplies—just the sheer determination of those who called this place home, refusing to let it fall. It was clear that they had been fighting against the inevitable for years, struggling to maintain what little remained of their once-great city. And yet, despite their efforts, despite their unwavering will, the damage was undeniable. Velmoria was crumbling, and if things continued as they were, it would not stand much longer.

  As the group advanced closer, the workers on the walls finally noticed them. The moment their eyes fell upon the approaching figures, a ripple of panic spread through them. Some staggered backward, nearly losing their balance on their unstable scaffolding, while others dropped whatever tools or rubble they had been carrying. The fear in their faces was unmistakable. To them, a large group approaching from the darkness could mean only one thing—another attack, another wave of enemies coming to finish what had been started.

  They had likely been trained to expect the worst, to assume that any approach from the outside was a threat. Their hands trembled, some reaching instinctively for weapons, but the terror in their expressions betrayed the truth. They were not warriors, not anymore. These were survivors—laborers, citizens forced to take up the mantle of rebuilding what had already been lost too many times before.

  Adam saw the way they froze, the way their bodies tensed as if preparing for an inevitable slaughter. He knew they would give the alarm soon if he didn’t act fast. Turning to his group, his voice was calm but firm as he gave his orders.

  "Please, stay here."

  He instructed Drake and Angela, and then his gaze settled on the vampires that had followed them from Morvael.

  "Keep moving toward the city, but do not run. Let them see you clearly. Let Vaelric lead the way."

  He was counting on the presence of another vampire, one they could recognize, to ease some of the tension. But that alone wouldn’t be enough. Adam took a deep breath, then focused.

  A surge of cursed energy welled within him, coiling through his veins as he activated one of his skills, [Drake-Type Manifestation]. From his back, two massive wings of spectral darkness burst forth, stretching outward in a display meant to capture every eye upon him. The wings were not solid—they flickered like shadows in the wind, pulsating with raw, eerie energy. They were enormous, their form resembling the twisted elegance of a draconic predator, each beat of their spectral mass sending ripples of cursed power into the air.

  Then, without hesitation, he launched himself forward.

  The ground beneath him cracked as he propelled himself into the air, his body cutting through the dawn-lit sky like a bolt of living darkness. The wind screamed past his ears as he shot toward the workers, closing the distance in mere seconds. The vampires didn’t have time to react. One moment, he had been a distant silhouette, the next—he was upon them.

  The instant Adam's feet touched the ground, a shift far beyond physical force rippled through the surroundings. The impact alone sent tremors through the broken stone beneath him, causing loose debris and fragile wooden structures to shudder and collapse. But that was only the beginning. Without hesitation, he reached into the depths of his cursed power, summoning forth a skill he had yet to use but knew was exactly what he needed—[Yong Xian Sovereign’s Body Manifestation].

  The change was instantaneous, a surge of overwhelming transformation spreading through every fiber of his being. His already tall frame elongated slightly, his body refining itself into something far more commanding. His limbs grew more defined, his muscles tightening with unnatural precision, his form gaining an aura of ancient power that transcended the mere physical.

  His hair, usually black and unassuming, lengthened in an instant, now cascading down his back in long, silken strands. His crimson eyes burned with an eerie glow, deep and unfathomable, as if they carried the weight of ages lost. But it was his fangs—longer, sharper, more pronounced—that completed the metamorphosis. This was not just an illusion or an external skill; it was a partial embodiment of the Yong Xian Sovereign, the original owner of his Jiang Shi heart. The power of a once-mighty emperor of the undead now ran through his veins, and those who gazed upon him could feel it in their very souls.

  At that very moment, his titles surged into effect, as though they had been waiting for this precise moment to manifest fully. [Ghostmarked Warden: Bound and Cursed] activated. A dense wave of cursed energy pulsed outward, an invisible weight pressing down upon every vampire present, like a silent declaration of absolute authority.

  [Lord of Vampires] activated as well. A second force intertwined with the first, but this one was different—it was not just power, but recognition. A compulsion, an undeniable instinct embedded deep within the very nature of vampire-kind, whispering a singular truth into their minds: This man was a Lord.

  Not just any noble, not a mere high-ranking vampire—he was above them, an entity of supreme status only below their elders. The air itself seemed to hum with the sheer force of that acknowledgment, and their bodies responded before their minds could even process what was happening.

  Without hesitation, without thought, every vampire in the vicinity dropped to their knees. Some collapsed in pure submission, their weakened forms trembling violently under the combined pressure of his presence. Others bowed their heads so low they pressed their foreheads against the broken stone beneath them, their bodies barely holding themselves together. Their breath hitched, their voices caught in their throats, and an overwhelming fear mixed with something else—devotion. Reverence. Utter, unshakable faith.

  This was not normal respect. This was not mere admiration. This was the instinctual response ingrained in their very being—the kind of submission that came not from choice, but from something written into their nature itself. Even those who were confused, even those who had never heard about him before, did not hesitate to lower their gazes. To look directly at him felt wrong, like an insult to something greater than themselves… A few gasps echoed through the crowd, barely above whispers.

  "A Lord…"

  "One of the old blood…?"

  "How can this be…?"

  Their voices trembled, the weight of the moment settling deep into their bones. There was no doubt. No hesitation. They knew. This was an individual who stood near the pinnacle of their kind, a being they had no right to question, no right to doubt. To defy him would be unthinkable—to serve him, an honor. And then, Adam spoke.

  "I have arrived with refugees from the town of Morvael."

  His voice was deep, steady, carrying a weight of command that filled the air like a decree carved in stone.

  "They require immediate aid."

  The kneeling vampires flinched at the sheer authority in his tone. There was no request, no plea—only order. A command given by a being whose words could not be denied.

  "Bring me someone who can be my spokesperson for this city, now."

  For a single, stunned second, no one moved. Then—chaos. Vampires scrambled to obey. Those closest to the broken fortress bolted, their weakened bodies moving faster than they should have been able to, driven purely by the absolute necessity of fulfilling his order. Others turned to one another in frantic whispers, desperate to ensure the message was delivered as quickly as possible. Some of the more desperate ones simply ran without direction, as though movement itself was the only thing that would prevent them from failing their new Lord’s first command.

  Adam did not need to say another word, his presence alone had rewritten the very structure of the situation.

  As the moments passed, the distant figures of the refugees from Morvael finally reached the fortress gates, led by Vaelric at the forefront. Their arrival was met with hushed murmurs and cautious stares from the vampires already present, but before any true reaction could form, some of the workers—those who had remained behind rather than run in fear—stepped forward to greet them.

  Despite their own exhaustion, they immediately began guiding the newly arrived survivors toward one of the grand entrances of Velmoria, where they would be taken further into the city. The relief in their expressions was impossible to ignore. Some of the Morvael vampires even dropped to their knees momentarily, overwhelmed by the sheer reality of their salvation, murmuring words of gratitude under their breath.

  Their voices trembled, their hands shaking as they reached out toward Adam, thanking him with a reverence that bordered on worship. Some of them even shed tears, their gratitude raw, unrestrained. It was a sight that made even the hardened vampires of Velmoria pause, their expressions shifting from surprise to something more complex. After all, this was not normal. It was rare—unheard of—for someone of noble vampire blood to go out of their way to save their lesser kin.

  Adam, standing tall amidst the swirling remnants of cursed mist still clinging to the air, merely gave Vaelric a nod as the former commander turned back to face him one last time before departing.

  “My Lord, you have done something incredible for us.”

  Vaelric spoke, his voice firm yet deeply grateful.

  “I will never forget what you have done for me and my people. This debt… I will carry it until the end of my existence.”

  He bowed deeply, lower than ever before, the gesture one of absolute loyalty. Adam, who was still adjusting to this entire situation, exhaled slightly.

  "You don't owe me anything."

  He said simply, though he could already tell that Vaelric did not see it that way. He wouldn’t argue it either. There was no point. It was then that something unexpected happened.

  A system window suddenly materialized in front of Adam, its presence sharp, sudden. His eyes darted toward it instinctively, and as soon as he read the notification, his entire body tensed in shock.

  ?Notice: Scenario key character ‘Vaelric Duskthorn’ has accepted an eternal debt to you; from now on, you will have an unwavering ally in him. Please cherish him and make the most of this opportunity!?

  ?Scenario key character ‘Vaelric Duskthorn’ will provide unconditional assistance to the user Adam Scholar whenever requested.?

  Adam’s breath caught… What?

  He had been expecting a reward, maybe some bonus points, but this? He stared at the message for a few moments longer, the weight of the words pressing down on him. A scenario key character. That wasn’t something minor. That was huge. And more than that—why?

  He had not thought much about Vaelric’s past, aside from the fact that the man had been a soldier, a commander of some sort even. But that shouldn’t have mattered in the grand scheme of things. What had he done to warrant this title?

  This wasn’t just a background vampire given more importance because of survival, Vaelric had always been important to this scenario.

  A realization began forming in Adam’s mind, something he needed to think through, but before he could fully process the implications, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped him back to the present.

  As the rest of the group finally reached the gates of Velmoria, the sight before them was enough to bring them to a collective halt. For the first time, they saw Adam in his newly transformed state, his presence exuding a far more commanding and aristocratic air than before. His once slightly disheveled, human-like appearance had been replaced with something entirely different—taller, more refined, with piercing red eyes and an aura that practically screamed "ancient vampire overlord."

  His already sharp features had become even more striking, his fangs pronounced, his long black hair flowing in an elegant yet almost untamed way. The sheer presence he carried now was undeniable, like something out of a dark legend. He stood there, wings partially folded, still radiating cursed energy like a monarch surveying his domain.

  For a long second, no one said anything. Then—

  “Ohhhhh, that looks super cool!”

  Kazue’s excited voice shattered the silence like a rock through a window. She practically bounced forward, eyes wide with fascination, looking Adam up and down like a child seeing their favorite anime character come to life.

  “You seriously looked awesome flying down like that, and now you actually look like a real vampire, not just some dark magic guy!”

  Drake, who had been observing with arms crossed, smirked slightly before giving an approving nod.

  “I have to admit, it suits you. You actually look the part now.”

  At those words, Katya’s previously neutral expression darkened instantly. Her sharp gaze flicked toward Kazue, narrowing in silent, unholy disapproval. The way Kazue had said that, the genuine excitement in her tone—it was unacceptable. The blonde’s fingers twitched slightly at her sides, as if debating whether to eliminate the cause of her irritation or not. She took a slow, measured step forward, her golden hair catching the dim light as she muttered under her breath.

  “You’re really too impressed with him, aren’t you?”

  Her voice was low, nearly venomous, and though she wasn’t outright glaring at Adam, it was clear she was directing blame in his general direction. Angela, who had remained somewhat composed up until now, coughed into her fist before speaking in a tone that was definitely not flustered.

  “It’s… a good look for you.”

  She admitted, though there was a slight hesitation in her voice, as if she were debating whether she even wanted to say it in the first place. Meanwhile, Takeshi, Dayana, and André finally caught up with the others and immediately joined the growing conversation—because of course they would.

  “Damn, bro, this transformation is insane!”

  Takeshi grinned, his one visible eye practically sparkling as he looked Adam up and down with something bordering on admiration.

  “I second that, this is ridiculous.”

  André chimed in, nodding in agreement.

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  “Like, what even is this? Some kind of vampire power-up? Because it’s working.”

  Dayana, however, simply sighed and rubbed her temple.

  “At least now he actually looks like a Vampire Lord instead of just pretending to be one.”

  And then—Chloe, who had been quiet for a few moments, smirked.

  She stepped closer. Just enough that her presence could be considered playful, just enough that her expression had a hint of mischief behind it. Then, with absolutely no hesitation and an almost absurd amount of casual confidence, she leaned slightly in Adam’s direction and very blatantly let her gaze roam over his entire appearance before speaking.

  "Well, if you keep up the whole ‘mysterious vampire lord’ act, I might just fall for it—though, I guess with that look, it wouldn’t be too hard."

  The world did not simply stop—it froze, suspended in an unnatural stillness as if reality itself had just malfunctioned. The weight of the words Chloe had spoken hung in the air like an impending disaster, the kind that could not be averted, only witnessed in all its catastrophic glory. Every conversation, every passing thought, every breath seemed to pause, as if the universe needed a moment to process what had just left her mouth. There was no sound—no wind, no shifting of feet, no nervous laughter to break the tension. Only the absolute, undeniable certainty that something had gone horribly, irreversibly wrong.

  And then—Angela moved.

  Her entire body went rigid, her posture so unnaturally still that it sent an almost instinctual chill through those standing closest to her. Her brow twitched, an almost imperceptible movement, yet in that silence, it was as if a thunderclap had echoed through the space. Her head turned slowly, so painstakingly slow that it was almost agonizing to witness, as if she were making sure—absolutely certain—that she had heard correctly.

  Her eyes locked onto Chloe, and her expression was a masterpiece of disbelief. It wasn’t simple shock. It wasn’t just mild surprise. No—it was judgment. The kind of look one would give to someone who had just walked willingly into the jaws of death, someone who had set their own house on fire, someone who had dug their own grave and was now standing there, confused as to why they were holding a shovel.

  And Chloe? She realized too late. The moment Angela’s stare settled on her, the confidence died.

  Her smirk faltered—just for a second, just a flicker—but that was all it took for her to grasp the magnitude of what she had done. Her pupils shrunk, her entire demeanor shifting from playful arrogance to an expression that screamed internal panic.

  Her brain tried to restart and it failed.

  “Ah—”

  The sound barely escaped her lips, half a breath, half a regret. In that moment, she knew that she had messed up.

  Color rushed to her face so quickly, it was almost comical. A deep, burning crimson spread rapidly from her cheeks, creeping up to her ears, blooming across her neck in what could only be described as catastrophic embarrassment. She took a small, hesitant step back, as if distancing herself from her own words would somehow erase them from existence.

  Her mouth opened again, scrambling for anything, a correction, a recovery, but—

  “Wait, no, that—”

  It was too late, Angela’s stare did not waver, she even raise a frown and smirked a little bit. And the others? Dayana, who had been standing nearby, snorted loudly, the first to break the silence. André, standing right beside her, was visibly struggling, his entire body shaking from the effort of not bursting into laughter. Takeshi? He did not struggle. He laughed. Loudly. The kind of unfiltered, wheezing laughter that made it absolutely clear that he had just witnessed one of the greatest moments of his life.

  Kazue, meanwhile, blinked slowly, completely oblivious to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Her head tilted slightly, an innocent, confused expression settling on her face as if she genuinely had no idea why everyone was reacting the way they were.

  Drake, who had been watching all of this unfold with the weariness of a man used to dealing with absolute chaos, let out a long, slow sigh. Then, with the air of someone who had seen far too much in life, he patted Adam on the shoulder.

  “Congratulations.”

  He said dryly, his voice filled with the weight of inevitability.

  “You’re officially a vampire heartthrob now.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Abbess’s crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She turned her head toward Chloe, her expression unreadable, but there was a distinct shift in the air—a quiet, lingering disapproval that made the moment all the more unbearable.

  Adam exhaled heavily, his patience thinning as he rubbed his temple. Drake’s comment was unnecessary, but at least he had understood that Chloe’s words had been nothing more than a joke—an incredibly poor one, but a joke nonetheless.

  He had grown used to the pink-haired troublemaker finding any opportunity to throw out remarks like that, so it hardly fazed him. Still, this was hardly the time or place for casual banter. His voice cut through the lingering amusement in the air as he addressed the group, his tone firm and unwavering.

  "Enough. We are standing in what is, by all definitions, hostile territory. The only reason we can even be here right now without being immediately attacked is because I have the means to make it happen. So, I’m telling you all now again—stay close. Don’t wander. Until someone arrives to speak with us, do not take a single step away from the group."

  Angela narrowed her eyes slightly at his words before crossing her arms.

  "And what exactly do you mean by ‘until someone arrives to speak with us’?"

  Adam nodded.

  "I requested someone to act as an announcer. Someone to introduce me properly when the time comes. My title, Lord of Vampires, grants me a base level of knowledge about whatever vampire lineage I interact with, which means I understand enough to know that appearances are everything here. This isn’t just about avoiding a fight; it’s about not drawing the wrong kind of attention. I won’t be the only noble here. I need to make sure I don’t accidentally provoke something we’re not ready to handle."

  His expression darkened slightly.

  "Which is why all of you will need to stay silent and follow my lead. I don’t know what kind of hierarchy this place follows, but I doubt you’ll get a warm welcome as humans."

  Angela regarded him for a few moments, watching him closely. There was no deceit in his words, no hidden motive behind his reasoning. He wasn’t plotting something in secret, wasn’t planning some underhanded maneuver. He was simply doing what was necessary to ensure they all made it through this intact. And that, more than anything, was what made her smile.

  Even now, after all they had been through together, after more than a day of traveling side by side, she still hadn’t fully trusted him. But now… She exhaled sharply before stepping forward, rolling her shoulders as she spoke.

  "Alright then, no need to worry. Now that I know we can actually work together, this won’t be a problem."

  Adam barely had time to react before the rest of his team turned toward her in confusion. Her words had caught all of them off guard—him included. But before anyone could question what she meant, Angela raised her small paintbrush, her movements smooth and confident.

  "Hold still."

  She instructed. Before anyone could protest, she flicked her wrist in an elegant motion. The tip of the brush glowed faintly, and in an instant, thick streaks of liquid color spread outward like an invisible force had spilled ink across the air. It swirled and expanded, covering the entire group, except for Abbess and Adam himself, in shifting hues of darkness and crimson. The energy felt like a living thing, crawling over their skin in an unnatural yet weightless manner, moving seamlessly as it wrapped around them.

  The moment the strange paint made contact with their bodies, Adam’s cursed vision immediately activated. A translucent system window blinked into existence in his sight, the text clear and undeniable.

  He narrowed his eyes as the paint continued to swirl around them, coating every inch of their bodies before sinking into their skin like it had never been there at all. Slowly, the unnatural energy faded, returning to Angela’s brush in a smooth, controlled motion. And then, the transformation revealed itself.

  Every single member of the group now looked completely different. Their once-human complexions had faded into an unnatural pallor, a sickly white that almost seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. Their irises had shifted into a deep crimson, glowing faintly in the dim light of the ruined city. Even their ears had elongated slightly, tapering into sharper points, while their canines extended just enough to resemble proper vampire fangs.

  Adam barely had time to process the transformation before he noticed Kazue staring at her own reflection in the nearest surface, her expression shifting from curiosity to mild concern. She leaned in closer, squinting as she took in the details—the pale complexion, the sharp crimson irises, the elongated ears. Slowly, her brows furrowed as a realization struck her.

  "Uh, wait a second—"

  She started, turning to face Angela with an almost accusatory look.

  "This is fine and all, but… the vampires around here don’t have such pointy ears."

  Her words caused a ripple of confusion among the rest of the team. Drake took another glance at his own hands, flexing his fingers as if trying to feel whether anything else had changed. Katya reached up to touch her ears, her fingers hesitating for a moment before she let out a low sigh, visibly unimpressed. Emir, standing to the side, let out a small hum of intrigue, clearly fascinated by the skill’s effects.

  Angela, however, noticeably tensed. It was subtle, barely a twitch in her posture, but Adam caught it immediately.

  "A-Ahem."

  She cleared her throat, turning her gaze away slightly as if looking elsewhere would somehow make the conversation disappear. Then, with an air of forced nonchalance, she muttered.

  "W-Well… I may have taken some creative liberties."

  Adam let out a slow breath, taking a moment to process everything. The unexpected embellishments in their disguises were a bit much, but ultimately, it would make things easier for them. He turned his gaze toward Angela, who had crossed her arms with a satisfied expression, clearly pleased with her handiwork.

  "Alright, listen up, this will last for as long as we need it to—but there’s a catch."

  Angela began, tilting her head slightly as she addressed the group. Adam narrowed his eyes slightly.

  "Which is?"

  Angela raised a single finger.

  "Water."

  Kazue blinked.

  "Water?"

  "Yeah."

  Angela confirmed.

  "If you get wet, even a little, this whole thing is ruined. One drop and the illusion starts breaking apart. It won’t all come off at once, but trust me, you don’t want to walk around looking like you’ve got half your face melting off. It’ll be obvious something’s off."

  As they continued discussing amongst themselves, their conversation was abruptly cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps—measured, deliberate, carrying an air of importance that set them apart from the frantic, labor-driven movements of the workers they had seen earlier.

  Adam turned his head, his sharp gaze settling on the figure making their way toward them. The difference in status was immediately apparent. Unlike the worn and ragged clothing of the laboring vampires, this one carried himself with elegance and poise, draped in formal attire that had seen better days but still maintained an undeniable sense of nobility. His dark, fitted coat was tailored with precision, flowing behind him with every step like the cape of a ruler surveying his domain.

  A crimson gemstone rested at the center of his high-collared cravat, its deep glow catching the faint light of the overcast sky. His long, slicked-back silver hair and piercing, almost predatory red eyes completed the picture of aristocracy—he was a man who carried himself as if he were the most important person in the city, second only to those truly above him.

  The vampire stopped a few feet away, his expression unreadable, though his posture conveyed everything. He was neither impressed nor displeased—he simply observed with the careful scrutiny of someone who understood exactly where they stood in the hierarchy of things. And then, he finally spoke.

  "Welcome to Velmoria."

  He intoned, his voice smooth yet edged with the subtle arrogance of one accustomed to authority. He gave the barest inclination of his head—a nod that wasn’t quite a bow but also not far enough from one to be considered an insult.

  "It is an honor to receive one of noblest blood within our walls. I am Lucardis Noctrelle, a Duke of Velmoria."

  There was a deliberate pause, the kind that demanded acknowledgment. The moment when he clearly expected Adam to respond in kind. The boy did not hesitate.

  "I am Adam Scholar, sovereign of my own domain, and I have come to Velmoria on matters of importance."

  He declared, his voice measured yet commanding, carrying the weight of someone who expected to be acknowledged, not questioned. His tone bore the refined confidence of a noble addressing a lesser, formal but unshaken, effortlessly establishing his superiority in the hierarchy without needing to force it. His gaze remained locked onto Lucardis, not as a challenge, but as a reminder of exactly who held authority in this exchange.

  For the briefest moment, Adam thought he saw something flicker across Lucardis’s face. No doubt—more like curiosity. The name "Adam" was anything but vampiric in nature, yet the duke did not comment on it. He merely accepted it at face value, as if questioning a fellow noble was beneath him.

  Lucardis’s eyes then shifted past Adam, trailing over the rest of the supposed vampires standing behind him. His lips curled slightly, a dismissive smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth before he let out a soft, unimpressed scoff.

  "A simple entourage, I see."

  He remarked, his tone carrying the slightest hint of condescension.

  "None among them carry the scent of nobility."

  His words lingered in the air, and before Adam could respond, there was a small, indignant noise from behind him.

  "Oi—!"

  André barely managed to get a word out before a swift thunk cut him off. Dayana, who had been standing beside him, delivered a sharp and efficient smack to the back of his head.

  The impact wasn’t particularly strong, but it was enough to make André recoil, rubbing the sore spot as he shot her an offended glare. She, however, remained unfazed, keeping her expression as neutral as ever, though there was a clear warning in her eyes.

  Lucardis did not acknowledge the minor scuffle, nor did he seem to care. His focus returned to Adam, his smirk fading into something more neutral, more proper. With a subtle flourish of his hand, he gestured toward the ruined yet still imposing city gates behind him.

  "You are most welcome, Lord Adam."

  Lucardis said smoothly, his tone laced with both respect and an unmistakable air of expectation.

  "To Velmoria, the last bastion of true vampire royalty. As a Lord, I presume your arrival is in accordance with the ‘Great Awakening’ plan alongside the Elders and the other Lords."

  He gave a knowing smile, his crimson eyes gleaming with a hint of satisfaction.

  "Your timing is impeccable. The preparations are already in motion, and the ceremony is set to begin within the day. With the human paladins having vanished for a week now, the time is finally upon us."

  Adam stiffened slightly at the words, though he kept his expression carefully neutral. The ‘Great Awakening’? Wasn’t that the name given to the day Arianka had first manifested in this world, the day when everything had changed for vampires and giants alike? Then why was Lucardis speaking of it as though it were something entirely different—an event that had yet to take place?

  His thoughts raced. He didn’t have enough information to risk showing uncertainty, so he responded with measured confidence.

  "Of course, that is precisely why I have come."

  He said smoothly, nodding once. Lucardis smiled, seemingly pleased with the answer.

  "Excellent. Then let us waste no time. You shall accompany me to the Imperial Palace, where the ceremony is soon to commence. The Elders and the other Lords will be most pleased to have another of our kind join us at this crucial hour."

  With that, he turned on his heel, gesturing for Adam to follow. The boy cast a quick glance toward his allies, sharing an unspoken understanding with them before stepping forward.

  As they walked through the heart of Velmoria, Adam and his group took in the grim reality of the vampire capital. The city stood in stark contrast to the celestial brilliance of Celestia Sanctum—where the holy city had been pristine, immaculate, and bathed in divine radiance, Velmoria was a place of shadows and faded grandeur. Its towering gothic spires reached toward the darkened sky like skeletal fingers, their once-elegant structures now marred by time and neglect. The streets, once paved with pride and purpose, bore the weight of years of struggle, their cracked stones whispering tales of a civilization long past its prime.

  Even the air carried a somber heaviness, thick with the scent of damp stone and a lingering, unplaceable bitterness. The few vampires that moved through the streets were pale specters of what they once must have been, their red eyes dull, their postures slouched as though they carried an invisible weight upon their shoulders. None spoke. None greeted each other. They simply drifted from one place to another, their steps lacking urgency, their gazes distant and unfocused. There was no vibrance, no sense of community—only survival, only existence. If Celestia Sanctum had been a city of worship and order, then Velmoria was a city of ghosts.

  The silence between their group remained unbroken for some time, only the sound of their steps echoing through the hollow streets. That was until Kazue, who had clearly been holding back a question for far too long, suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and Lucardis.

  "So, uh…"

  She began, her usual bright energy slightly subdued but still present.

  "What exactly is the ‘Great Awakening’? Because, well… as far as I know, that’s the name for the whole thing with the human goddess appearing for the first time."

  The reaction was immediate. Lucardis did not turn his head, but his crimson eyes flicked toward the girl with an unmistakable expression of disdain, sharp and scornful, as though she had just uttered something deeply offensive. The weight of his gaze alone carried a message—she had spoken out of turn, and worse, she had spoken to a superior without any formalities.

  Adam, noticing the tension shift like a blade being drawn, smoothly stepped in before any further hostility could brew. Without faltering, he placed himself between Kazue and Lucardis, speaking with the same commanding authority he had used before.

  "My apologies, Duke Lucardis."

  He said, trying his best to make his tone neutral, firm, and devoid of any remorse.

  "My consort lacks proper refinement—she has not been one of us for long. Her manners are still… developing."

  He did not bow. He did not lower his head. He simply stated the explanation as fact. A Lord apologizing outright to a Duke would be a sign of weakness, something he could not afford—so instead, he positioned Kazue’s mistake as something beneath Lucardis’ concern, something to be brushed aside.

  The Duke exhaled through his nose, the irritation in his features lingering for a second longer before he smoothed his expression.

  "I see, worry not, Lord Adam."

  He said, his voice colder now but no longer carrying outright hostility.

  "It is understandable. Newborns often lack the perspective required to understand our ways. However, since she is under your care, I will extend the courtesy of an answer."

  He shifted his gaze back toward the path ahead, his long coat billowing slightly as he walked.

  "The Great Awakening was the name given to the day that dammed Arianka entity manifested before the humans, yes."

  He acknowledged.

  "A day that marked the beginning of our decline. But it will also be the name of something else—our awakening."

  Adam’s gaze sharpened. Lucardis continued, his voice carrying an eerie confidence.

  "As your Lord knows, the Elder Vampires have uncovered a truth long buried. Just as humans received their divine intervention, we have found a way to call upon something… similar. Something ancient. Something that has heard our suffering and has promised to grant us power… For a price"

  His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, the implications sinking into Adam and the others with slow, creeping unease. The boy narrowed his eyes slightly.

  "What price?"

  Lucardis merely gave a nonchalant shrug.

  "That is not for me to know. Only the Elders and Lords such as yourself will bear the burden of that knowledge."

  He said smoothly. The words did little to settle the growing weight in Adam’s chest. He cast a glance toward his companions, their expressions all shadowed with the same unease. Something about this didn’t sit right. The timing. The secrecy. The name… But there was no turning back now.

  The group pressed forward, their path leading them deeper into the heart of Velmoria, toward a meeting that would soon unravel more than any of them were prepared for.