POV: Haruki
"…Arise, Delilah Vauclair. For proving your valor and loyalty, we name you the Duchess of House Vauclair and the position of minister of finance and trade," finished Queen Carmilla, her voice steady, her words ceremonial.
I watched Delilah kneel, her head bowed in reverence, though I knew the gesture was hollow.
The Scarlet Requiem. That is what they are calling it now. Fitting, I suppose, though the poets will no doubt stretch the name into grotesque flourishes. When I first began to plan the slaughter, I was certain of Elmenhilde's support. Her intel, her access, her quiet treachery made it possible to strike at the heart of the Vladi and Drachenthal union. With only her support, the plan would have worked still, but less cleanly.
The first problem would be that Elmenhilde alone would have the burden of making sure that my army would approach undetected and that both House Vladi, Drachenthal and the other houses would not bring too much protection. It would have gotten messy. Some of the important guests might have escaped, and might have called their banners after they escaped. Unlikely, but not impossible. And I cannot abide leaving cracks for possibility.
That was when I brought Delilah into the equation.
It was never difficult to see what she was. Ambitious and malevolent in her intentions. Estranged from her family, despising them, and in turn despised by them. They kept her isolated, leashed, and denied her power. She resented them for it with a venom she barely disguised. I knew she might be of use.
When I proposed the plan to her, she did not hesitate. Her eyes lit up. No, not lit up, that phrase is too soft. They… burned. They swelled with an ecstasy so grotesque that I almost recoiled. She laughed, loud and manic, unable to contain the sheer joy of murdering her own blood. It was disturbing in its rawness, its sincerity. And when I explained the rest of the plan, when I laid out what would be asked of her, she turned to me with a gaze not merely of approval, but of worship.
She declared her eternal love for me. Eternal love. Imagine that. I was not sure what unsettled me more: the sheer madness of her proclamation, or the frightening sincerity in her tone.
I loathe her. I loathe her to my very core. Simply looking at her now, bowing before Carmilla as if she were a child receiving a trinket, makes my stomach turn. Beauty cannot disguise rot. Nothing in this world can mask what she is: a wretched, putrid creature, a cruelty that masquerades as flesh.
And yet… I enabled her. I helped her murder her kin. I placed a crown upon her ambition and opened the door to her cruelty. And for what?
To help a girl save her brother from his self-inflicted doom? To protect my sister? Noble pretenses, if one wishes to excuse horror. But what terrifies me is not the deed itself, but my own indifference to it. I feel nothing. No guilt, no horror, no burden pressing upon my conscience. I acted, and I moved on.
Is this what I am becoming?
I could tell myself there is enough justification. Those vampires kept humans as cattle, debased them, toyed with them. Parasites fattened on suffering. They were decadent and vile. It is easy to conclude they deserved their fate. Yet does that make me different from the so-called Hero Faction? They, too, will justify their slaughter by declaring the supernatural unworthy of pity, unworthy of existence. And am I not doing the same, even if I claim subtler motives?
Have I already begun to see them as less than human? Have I already crossed the line where pity no longer touches me? If so, then what am I? Another monster wrapped in the skin of a man.
I sit here in their halls, wearing Dorian's name, Dorian's face, Dorian's voice. Every step I take, every glance I cast, every word that leaves my lips is another stone I pile upon a false edifice. It is a fraud built of blood and corpses, and yet I inhabit it with ease. Too much ease.
And when I think of the slaughter, of the guests screaming as their lifeblood spilled, of the chaos and terror that I myself orchestrated, I feel… nothing. Not even disgust. Only calculation. That absence of feeling terrifies me more than the blood itself.
If this is the cost of survival, if this is the price of protecting those few I hold dear… am I not already condemned?
I can still hear her laugh. Delilah, in her frenzy, drenched in her family's blood, calling it love. She believed herself reborn in that moment, elevated by my hand. But what of me? What did I become when I gave her that chance?
The room is applauding now. Delilah rises, grinning faintly, savoring her new title. Carmilla watches with her cold, imperial gaze, and the courtiers murmur their approval. None of them see me, not truly. They see only Dorian Thornevald, the elegant conspirator, the one who turned treachery into art. They are lauding my cunning and supposed genius while I plan their destruction.
The ceremony is over with, Elmenhilde has been rewarded for her loyalty just like Delilah and officially made Duchess of her house and given a position in the royal council as well. So was Liliane Manthar, the first ever woman to become a Duchess in the Tepes faction. Since three ducal houses were annihilated, there was a huge power vacuum in the court. They were now being filled with "loyal people." Loyal to whom is another matter.
Most of those that have been appointed to the court were my allies and given positions based on my suggestion. The territory and wealth of House Vladi, Drachenthal and Valmorra was divided between me, the royal families, House Karnstein and House Vauclair. House Manthar did not receive any spoils of war since they started the whole thing themselves, it was punishment for the dual monarchs. As the main contributor, I naturally received the highest spoils. House Thornevald was now by far the biggest and most influential house aside from the royals. And considering both House Karnstein and Manthar are now my staunchest allies, I had huge influence that even the monarchs are wary of.
There was a huge celebration that night. I was the most sought-out dance partner for the evening, with so many ladies both from great and small houses lining up just to dance with me. I, however, had no interest in that. I danced with a select few people: Queen Carmilla and each of her daughters, Anca Tepes, Liliane Manthar, my sisters, Delilah and Elmenhilde. All others I rejected politely. Scarcity increases value, and besides, I do not like any of the people here.
—------------------------------------
I walked slowly through the endless underground passages of the royal palace. An entire labyrinth, designed for secrecy, perfect for clandestine meetings. I suppose it fits with the whole vampire stereotype.
I stopped before a wall. Raising my hand, I tapped it in a precise rhythm. A code. The stone split, revealing a narrow door. I slipped the key I had been given into the lock, and entered.
The chamber beyond was small, unadorned, with no other door but the one behind me. Waiting there was Marius Tepes.
"I hope I did not make you wait too long," I said politely.
"Not at all. You are just in time. Father is waiting for your arrival," he replied with equal courtesy.
He bit into his hand, letting blood fall to the floor as he traced the magical crest of House Tepes. It flared, glowing white, and an illusory door formed against the wall. Marius opened it and gestured for me to follow.
We entered. A long, narrow hall stretched before us, leading to another sealed door. Marius unlocked it with another code, and we passed through.
The room we entered was wide, luxurious, its furnishings ornate and deliberate. At its heart sat the king himself, relaxed in his elegant chair, smiling as if in welcome. But it wasn't him who caught my eye.
There was another presence. A girl. Short silver-blond hair, red eyes. Dressed in plain servant's garb, her posture hesitant, her bearing subdued. Yet when her gaze fell upon Marius, she collapsed at once, forehead pressed to the ground in reverence.
And yet.
There was an aura about her that silenced my thoughts. A subtle force that demanded my gaze remain on her. My eyes refused to leave her.
"I know you," I said slowly. "Or it seems to me that I should know you."
I was certain I would remember her if we had met. Was she a character I should recognize from the anime? My mind searched, but found nothing.
The king chuckled at my reaction. "She has that effect on people sometimes. Though not so strongly."
For a moment, I had forgotten he and Marius were still present. What was that?
"Dorian, I would like you to meet my bastard daughter, Valerie. The wielder of Sephiroth Graal," the king declared.
I was speechless. A vampire. No, a half-vampire, born with a Longinus-tier Sacred Gear. The Graal. The golden chalice said to have touched the blood of Christ.
This was not what I had anticipated. I had assumed the Hero Faction possessed it, or that it would at least appear in the hands of a full human host.
The surprise on my face must have been obvious. The king and his son both smiled faintly, amused by my expression.
"How is this possible?" I asked, still stunned.
"Valerie is a half-vampire. She inherited it likely due to her human blood. It is not unprecedented for a dhampir to be born with a Sacred Gear. However, never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine one of my own blood would inherit a Longinus-tier sacred gear, my own daughter no less. For one of my blood to receive a holy gift, an insult that old fool could not have devised better." The king's voice hardened, his anger unmistakable.
Valerie trembled at his words.
He thought God himself had orchestrated this to spite him. He truly believed the Almighty lingered to personally curse his lineage. He did not know God was dead. Did he think himself so important? The arrogance of these vampires never ceases to amuse me.
"But his arrogance," the king continued, "has given us his undoing. To think he would curse me with the Sephiroth Graal, the Longinus with the power to control the principles of life and death."
He laughed, bitterly pleased.
"Duke Dorian, I show you this because I hold you in my utmost trust. You have proven loyalty beyond doubt. Can you see the potential in such an asset?" He paused, only to continue before I could reply. "Marius has been researching and experimenting with it. Do you know what we discovered?"
I inclined my head, listening.
"The Sephiroth Graal can negate a species' innate weakness. It can manipulate, and even create, souls. We began with experiments on low-class devils and other creatures of the dark. The devils we tested became immune to light-based attacks. In time, they even resisted holy attacks. The Graal can rewrite the very nature of an individual," he revealed gleefully.
I was stunned.
Are you fucking kidding me?
That is not merely power. It is the capacity to alter the underlying structure of existence itself. A mechanism for rewriting what is otherwise immutable.
Do they even understand what they have uncovered?
With such an ability, inherited traits and fundamental laws are no longer absolute. A vampire would not weaken under the sun. A dragon would not fall to a slayer's touch. A human could be remade into something beyond human. Constraints become negotiable. Rules become optional.
The implications extend further. Mortality could be excised altogether. Death itself is reduced to a dispensable condition. Humanity could be rendered immortal without covenant or sacrifice. Extinction would lose its permanence; entire species or vanished bloodlines could be restored as though their erasure had never occurred.
Weaknesses would cease to be burdens. They would function as variables, altered or dismissed at will. Sunlight, holy relics, natural limits; all subject to adjustment. In such a framework, vampires would no longer be flawed predators but perfected beings.
And yet, even this is secondary to the true significance: the soul. If it can be shifted, replicated, or redefined, then artifacts such as Sacred Gears are no longer singular. They become transferable, reproducible. The exclusivity of their power collapses. An individual could wield several at once. Armies could be forged with abilities once deemed unique and irreplaceable.
And that's still me thinking small. Why stop there? If you can tamper with life's principles, you could craft life outside the cosmology itself. Off-grid existence. No afterlife, no reincarnation, no judgment. Entities immune to the system entirely.
Do they understand what that means? True freedom. Untouchable by Heaven, Hell, or Fate itself.
But there must be limitations. Without them, the balance of all things would have already collapsed.
I had studied the Longinus before, though reliable accounts were scarce, and the Graal in particular was cloaked in obscurity. One detail, however, appeared with consistency: its wielders almost always descended into madness.
Probably inevitable. If you're walking around with the blueprints of reality unspooling in your mind, your neurons are going to fry eventually.
And Valerie… she trembled before her father like a cornered servant. Wielding the power to rewrite existence, yet broken already.
I then instantly felt it, that pulse of hunger, the inevitability of desire. My desire to possess this. I must have it. ith this, my plans would become absurdly easier.
"With this treasure," the king declared with fervor, "vampires will no longer be limited to high-class. We can rise to ultimate-class, to the level of gods and beyond. Even satan-class would not be impossible. We can finally achieve our rightful place. We will overthrow Heaven and Hell, even the gods themselves, until we become the sole rulers of the world."
Well of course. These pathetic parasites never stop dreaming of dominion, as though playing at empire were their destiny. How dismayingly bourgeois their ambitions are. Yet I smiled at him, all courtesy and warmth.
"This is incredible, my king," I said with genuine enthusiasm. Not even a lie.
"Indeed. Though for now it is not ready. We must research further, make the change as harmless as possible. Then we shall unite the vampires under one true king, the royal house of Tepes. We will enslave those arrogant Carmilla factions who dare call themselves our equal. And then we will take over the world. Will you join us in our goal, our rightful vampire supremacy?" The king smiled as though the outcome had already been inscribed in stone.
So now it was clear. Why he revealed this to me. He fears me. My influence. My rise. He fears that Carmilla might sway me away from his side. So he unveils his unfinished dream, thinking he courts my loyalty. How stupid. As they say, one meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.
"Indeed, my king," I said with conviction. "Your house will lead us to our rightful destiny."
They smiled, pleased.
"I only have one request of you, my king," I said, bowing.
"Ask and you shall receive," he answered, pleased with himself.
I smiled wickedly. "I only ask that you bow before me."
Before he could process, I had already moved. Holy light spears tore into both king and Marius, piercing hands and legs. Instantly crippled, they screamed. Too bad no one would hear them. Their hidden chamber, designed to shield them from enemies outside, had not considered the enemy within.I love ironies.
Their screams rang unbearably loud, holy energy is exquisitely painful to vampires. It could not be helped that they screamed so loudly.Valerie froze in terror. I raised my hand and poured demonic energy into their bodies, dulling their pain, cutting off sensation. Their shrieking ceased, though their limbs were useless, their bodies paralyzed from the neck down, every ability sealed by my energy. One cannot be too careful.
The terror in their eyes was almost refreshing.
"Yo-you… What are–?" The king's voice trembled.
I silenced him with a wave.
I no longer spared them a glance. My attention was elsewhere.
Valerie.
She sat frozen, wide-eyed, as though expecting her turn to be carved apart. When my gaze fell upon her, she trembled visibly, her hands tightening in her lap.She froze as though death itself had turned its eyes on her.
"Be not afraid, Valerie," I said quietly, extending my hand. "I mean you no harm."
For a long moment she did not move. Then, hesitantly, she placed her hand in mine; cold, shaking. I drew her gently to her feet and guided her to the sofa. She sank into the cushions, wary as a bird poised to flee.
I brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. My touch was deliberate, careful. "Do you wish to be free?"
She blinked, confusion flickering across her face. "Free?"
"Yes," I said. "To leave this prison. To walk the world with your own feet. To leave and go explore the world. To no longer be caged and abused by people who see you as nothing more than dirt. To leave those who only seek your gift to use you and do not care about you at all. To be seen. To be valued. To live for yourself."
Her throat tightened as she swallowed. "And… are you not the same?" Her voice trembled, but her eyes carried a spark of defiance. "Do you not also wish to use me, as they do?"
I sighed softly. "I will not deceive you, Valerie. Yes, I wish to use your power. I need strong allies. But I give you my word: I will never harm you. I will never cage you. And I will never force you into chains disguised as loyalty. If you walk with me, you will do so because you choose it. And in return, I will protect you: from them, and from all who would treat you as they have."
She studied me with wide, uncertain eyes. Her lips trembled as she asked, "What… What is the world outside like?"
This time, I smiled. Not the courtly smile I give kings, but something softer.
"Big," I said. "And beautiful."
Her brow furrowed faintly, but she leaned in, drawn to the warmth in my tone. So I told her.
I told her of vast cities, of towers and bridges wrought from human hands. Of nations fallen to dust, their ruins carved with stories. Of oceans, mountains, fields unending. Of inventions and wonders, myths and creatures, legends still walking the earth. Of angels, devils, dragons, mermaids, spirits. A world of danger and possibility. A world of freedom.
Her eyes shone now, not with fear, but with something fragile, trembling, almost childlike. Hope.
For the first time in her life, perhaps, someone had spoken to her not as a tool, not as a possession, but as a person. She listened, as though drinking in each word like water after a long drought.
After a long while, she sighed and looked at me meekly. "I… I do not want to feel pain again."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Every time Marius forces me to use it, it gets more and more painful. I do not want to feel that pain again," she said fearfully, as though I might decide to kill her then and there.
"Then I will find a way to make it less painful. I promise," I said. There is bound to be a price for such power. Perhaps by strengthening her, I can mitigate the damage and the pain it inflicts. No matter what, I will find a way to make her ability useful.
She smiled softly. "Then I would like that. To see the world… I mean."
I smiled back and I tapped her forehead, and she drifted into sleep.
Then I returned my attention to the father and son duo. With a thought, I released the silencing spell I had cast upon them.
"Who are you?" Marius shouted.
"What… are you? What do you want with us?" The king's voice trembled.
"The outside world has changed much. Many new things have appeared. You could not truly acquire much information because of your isolation, it seems," I said casually.
"What… what are you?" repeated the king again, like a broken clock.
"The question you should be asking is not what, but who," I stated calmly. "And who I am is the man holding your life in his hand."
"What do you want?" Marius demanded.
"I want many things. But from you, I want only one thing. The secret to your dimension separation," I said casually.
The king scoffed. "And you think we will just tell you? You will never find it."
"Who said anything about asking?"
I snapped my fingers, and a table appeared, lined with surgical tools and small potion bottles.
"You recognize these bottles, don't you?" I asked, and continued, "These are Phenex tears. I have countless amounts of them. Can you guess why?" I said, as though lecturing.
"Phoenix tears? So the devils are behind this," said the king.
"Perhaps they are, perhaps not. That hardly matters now. You still haven't guessed."
They said nothing, defiance etched on their faces.
"Well, since you seem slow on the uptake, I will answer it. They are here to heal you. They cannot heal the damage caused by holy energy, but I can remove the holy energy from your bodies and allow the tears to take their course. However, since you are being difficult, I will first need to teach you how to behave," I said, taking up one of the tools on the table and regarding them dispassionately.
I was not going to enjoy this. But it is the most effective way to reach my goal.
It took half an hour for Marius to break, and double that for the king. Considering it was my first time torturing someone, I believe I did adequately. But I did not stop. I continued, pouring demonic energy into their minds, breaking them with both physical and mental assault.
Another hour passed before I relented. I gave them each a measure of Phoenix tears. They healed everything except their legs and hands. Delirious, reduced to blubbering wrecks, but still sane.
Two more potions. I forced them down their throats. Their eyes turned black, then red again.
"What is your name?"
"Marius Tepes, prince of the Tepes faction."
"Thaddeus Tepes, king of the Tepes faction."
I questioned them further, testing the potion. Mundane questions, complex ones, their history, their first kills, their lovers, their secrets. Every detail, to see if anything was hidden.
The potion was simple: enslavement, if the will was broken enough. Which is why I had tortured them. I detested the technique in principle, but necessity overrides preference. Lavinia and Le Fay had prepared it as a contingency. I had merely waited for the right moment, when I could isolate either Queen Carmilla or the king. After my rise to chief advisor and minister, it was inevitable that one of them would seek to recruit me. Dual monarchy cannot last. They both knew it. And so, I was too valuable to ignore.
King Tepes was simply unfortunate enough to be the first to approach me. The early bird gets the worm or perhaps, the early worm gets eaten by the bird.
"How does the dimension separation work?" I asked.
He began to speak, explaining everything he knew of the barrier. His knowledge was limited, he was not the one who had created it. But the details he provided were surprising nonetheless.
"Take me there," I commanded.
"Master, the entrance into the subdimension where the ritual is conducted is opened only by one key. I have one half of it. The other lies with Queen Carmilla," said King Tepes.
"Well then, let us invite Queen Carmilla to the party as well," I said with a quiet laugh.
I lifted the unconscious body of Valerie and carried her with me. I instructed the king and Marius to convince the queen to show me the ritual as my right, as chief advisor and minister of the vampires.
And thus the queen would be summoned by their own lips, their own loyalty, now mine.
—---------------------------------
After that, it was merely waiting, and on the next day, I was invited by the queen and king personally. I arrived and saw only four people there. King Tepes and his son, and Queen Carmilla and her eldest daughter Sorina. I greeted them with a bow.
The queen spoke, her voice steady, deliberate, as though the centuries themselves had trained it to carry weight without effort.
"My duke," Queen Carmilla began, her voice steady and measured, yet heavy with centuries of authority. "We have summoned you here not as a mere guest or observer, but as one whose loyalty and wisdom have already proven indispensable to our realm. You stand among us today as a pillar of vampire society, and it is precisely for this reason that we entrust you with what follows.
"What you are about to witness, the foundation upon which the stability and supremacy of our kind rests, is not knowledge granted lightly. It is a weighty responsibility, one that binds the bearer not only to the present, but to the unbroken continuity of our lineage and the safety of all who dwell within this dimension. To share it is to grant you insight into powers and practices that shape the very architecture of our existence.
"We place this burden upon you with full awareness of its gravity. Yet know this: it is also an honor. To hold such knowledge is to become inseparable from the destiny of our people, to be recognized as a custodian of both their secrets and their survival.
"It is for this reason that we call upon you, not merely as our subject, but as our confidant and our steward. The ritual you will witness, the mechanism by which our domain has been isolated, preserved, and fortified, is the heart of our authority. Its purpose is the preservation of our kind, the safeguarding of our sovereign will, and the assurance that no force, mortal or divine, may undo what has been wrought.
"Take heed, my duke: with this knowledge comes responsibility beyond measure. You are entrusted not only with the truth of our power, but with the care of its perpetuation. In this, you are both honored and bound, for there is no greater gift, and no heavier duty, than the stewardship of the very foundation of vampire supremacy."
That is a great many words to simply say: we trust you enough to share our secret. Vampires never miss an opportunity for posturing.
"You honor me, your majesties. I will not let it go to waste," I said. That, at least, was not a lie.
The queen smiled, her daughter Sorina following her lead. Then, without a word, she turned her eyes toward the king and inclined her head. The signal was subtle, but absolute.
They began to chant, their voices layered in a ritual cadence. After a full minute of this, two half-keys appeared before them, floating in the air. The sound filled the chamber, their voices weaving together until the air itself seemed to quiver with intent.
After a minute, two half-keys shimmered into being before them. Incomplete pieces of a greater whole.
Both monarchs bit into their wrists, blood flowing freely. Each dropped crimson upon their respective half, and then, like performers in some ancient dance, they exchanged keys. The halves, now carrying the blood of both, drifted together. Drawn into one another like filings to a magnet, until at last they fused. The glow deepened into a searing blue. A single key hovered in the air, whole.
The ritual continued. They bled again, this time circling with solemn precision, their blood tracing a vast pentagram across the floor. White light bled from the lines. From its heart rose a door, illusory black, bound with a golden lock.
"Only this key can open the door," the queen said with a faint smirk. "Only the wielder may touch it. To others, it is no more than air."
The king took the key, placed it against the lock. The door parted soundlessly.
"Follow us," commanded the queen.
Sorina, Marius, and I followed, stepping carefully through the threshold.
The subdimension resembled a single vast chamber, the size of a large house, though there were no divisions, only one colossal room. At the center lay a coffin, black lacquered with gold trim. Against the far wall stood the object I had come for, the Shears of the Firstborn.
Even having heard of them from Thadeus, seeing them was something else. They were massive, the length of a man's arm, blades jagged, forged of blackened celestial metal streaked faintly with silver veins. Their handles twisted into the form of wings, one feathered, one skeletal. A faint light leaked from the seam where the blades met, as if every moment threatened to cut open the air around them.
The queen noticed my gaze.
"This is the legendary artifact," she intoned, grandly of course, "the Shears of the Firstborn. It is said they cut the bond between the mortal realm and paradise."
The others looked at it with awe. I mirrored them, though Thadeus had already told me of this.
"So this is what separated our world from the rest," Sorina said, almost reverent. "But how were we able to use it? Is it not too powerful?"
The monarchs had never shown this place even to their children.
"No vampire could wield it," the king answered gravely. "Only one at the level of ultimate class or beyond. That is why we made a bargain with Tezcatlipoca, Lord of the Smoking Mirror. We aided his schemes three years ago, and when threatened, demanded this as our price. He severed the connection with the Shears and gave us a ritual to sustain it. The Shears alone could cut, but never maintain. Furthermore, it can be used only once every thirteen years. To rely on it each time the connection returned would be impossible."
He had told me all this before. I was not interested in hearing it again. What I did care for was what sustained the separation.
I glanced at Sorina, still gazing reverently at the Shears. The queen's eyes lingered instead on the coffin. That was enough.
I struck. Four spears of light in an instant—two through Sorina's legs, two through her arms. She crumpled wordlessly, her voice caught in my energy. The queen moved, but Marius and the king seized her, pinning her down as I carved her limbs with a sword of light. Their screams cut off as I paralyzed them, stripped away sensation, left them silenced and immobile.
"What is the meaning of this, Thadeus?" the queen shouted, then stopped. Realization set in. "That was holy light… You are not Dorian Thornevald."
"Your powers of observation remain as keen as ever, my queen," I said dryly.
"What did you do to them?" Her voice trembled despite her attempt at authority.
"Now why would I tell you that?"
Her daughter, broken on the ground, whispered hoarsely, "Since when…?"
"Ever since I returned from the mission," I answered without hesitation.
The queen's voice cracked into realization. "You used both holy and demonic power. That should be impossible for anyone other than…" She froze. Then her voice dropped to a whisper. "You are… the King of Hell. Lucifer."
I did not bother to confirm.
"Wh-what do you want? What do you plan to do?" the queen asked, forcing calm into her tone.
"Do you think I am a cartoon villain who explains his grand evil plan?" I replied dryly. "Be silent. I need to break this ritual."
I silenced her with magic and walked to the coffin. I opened it slowly.
Inside lay a man, his body in its prime, long raven-dark hair framing features too perfect. Beautiful, carved with unnatural precision. This was what one might imagine of fae to look like. I knew him at once. Not by deduction, but as if the world itself whispered his name.
"It really is the truth…" I laughed under my breath. "Hah. Who would have thought it would be you, Cain?"
The ritual was straightforward once understood. The Shears severed the dimensional connection. That part was simple. The true problem lay in sustaining the cut, preventing the realm from collapsing or reconnecting. That problem was solved through Cain. His curse made him truly immortal: his life force inexhaustible, his body indestructible. It could not be depleted or extinguished, which made him the perfect stabilizer.
The ritual bound his existence directly to the dimensional threshold. His essence was locked into a closed cycle, supplying constant energy to keep the separation intact. He became a perpetual power source. Unlike any other being, he could not die or diminish, which meant the dimensional wound never closed. The Shears of the Firstborn had created the separation once; Cain ensured it lasted indefinitely. Efficient, durable, nearly impossible to counter, unless one interfered with Cain himself. Tezcatlipoca had devised this.
That the vampires possessed Cain was shocking. Even the king did not know how they acquired him, only that it happened at the end of the Great War. It doesn't matter. I will ask him.
I know the risk of waking Cain now. Sustaining a ritual of this scale alone means he cannot be weak. But I must free the humans enslaved here. To do that, I need to break the dimensional separation.
I placed my palm on Cain's forehead, releasing demonic energy into his body. His soul was bound by a perpetual stasis spell. Expertly done. My demonic power clashed against it, and the spell shifted, transmuting into holy energy, canceling my attack. Adaptive spell.
Very Clever.
I attacked again with demonic energy. The spell responded with holy. I struck it then with holy power as well. Two forces, opposite yet mine, overwhelmed it. The spell shattered.
The dimension shook.
"What have you done?" the queen cried, terrified. My silence spell must have broken while I focused. I raised my hand to silence her again-
A sound stopped me. The coffin stirred.
Cain moved.
I stepped back, creating distance. It is always better to be cautious.
Cain stood.
AN: The vampire arc ends next chapter.