Leo's grip around his sword tightened. The blood swirling along the blade thickened, pulsing with energy. It wrapped around Thorn like a living thing, reacting to his rising tension.
"You Dimonts really don't know when to give up, do you?" he said, voice sharp and steady. Around them, the forest began to subtly change—colors deepened, shadows stretched, and the air grew heavy as he wove illusion spells into the trees and undergrowth. This was his battlefield now.
Luciana tilted her head, a faint smile on her lips. "You're the champion of the Moon Goddess. You're destined to destroy us. Is it so wrong to want to protect ourselves?"
"You should've thought about that before stealing from her," Leo shot back. "And you're wrong about one thing—I'm not her champion."
Luciana blinked, her smile faltering for a heartbeat. "You're not? But only her champion can wield that sword."
"If you really believed that," he said coolly, "you wouldn't have come after it. So which is it? Are you testing me? Or are you just scared someone like me might exist?"
Her expression shifted again—amused now, almost playful. "Trying to provoke me? That won't work. Not on a vampire as old as I am." She shrugged lightly. "Besides, I didn't come here to fight. I came to talk."
Leo narrowed his eyes. "Talk?"
With a nod, Luciana slipped off her cloak. Beneath it, she wore a flowing, low-cut black dress traced with crimson patterns that glowed faintly like embers in the dusk. High side slits revealed pale legs that moved with supernatural grace. Her long silver hair cascaded freely down her back, catching the light like moonlight on snow.
Her skin was too perfect. Her features too symmetrical. It was unnatural—almost sculpted. Beautiful in a way that made something in Leo recoil.
Then his heart skipped. And skipped again. Panic flared in his chest. His breathing grew shallow. His blood felt hot.
'This isn't normal,' he thought, forcing himself to remain still.
As an illusionist, Leo recognized subtle manipulation when he felt it. This wasn't just seduction—she was using charm magic. A layered enchantment, targeting body and mind.
He immediately cloaked himself in the power of his domain, casting an illusion over his own senses to block the effects. The charm vanished and his heartbeat slowed. But he let none of that show. Instead, he staggered slightly, played along, allowed his breathing to stay uneven. If she thought she had him under control, she might get careless.
Luciana stepped closer, her movements smooth and deliberate. She began circling him like a predator, brushing her fingers along his back and arm.
"I want to team up with you," she purred.
Leo panted, keeping the act going. "For what?"
"To kill my family, of course."
He forced a frown. "You expect me to believe that? Why would you want to kill your own family?"
Now standing directly in front of him, Luciana raised a hand to his shoulder and let it trail slowly down his chest.
"You don't believe me?" she said, her voice soft, wounded. She leaned in closer, her lips just inches from his. "You really don't?"
Leo gave her a cold smile.
"I don't trust a girl who uses charm."
The moment the words left his lips, light exploded between them. The Leo standing in front of her was an illusion. The real one had long since moved. The phantom he left behind was rigged with a hidden explosion trap—triggered just as her lips were about to meet his.
The forest rocked with the blast. Trees cracked and smoke and debris scattered. From behind the cover of a thick tree trunk, Leo watched closely, readying a barrage of spells and countermeasures.
"Looks like someone needs punishment," her voice rang out through the lingering smoke, amused and unbothered.
Leo raised an eyebrow. 'She's into that kind of thing?'
As the dust settled, her figure emerged again. Her clothes were torn at the edges, but her expression was serene, her skin untouched.
"But since I used charm first," she said lightly, "I'll let this one go. I told you—I'm not here to fight. I meant it. I want to team up."
Leo stepped out from hiding, the bloody glow of Thorn casting shadows across his face.
"Why?" he asked. "Why would you want to kill your own family?"
Luciana's expression darkened. The seductive mask cracked, revealing something colder.
"My whole life, I've been a tool. First for my father, then for my brother. Every move, every breath, under their control. I'm tired of it." Her hands clenched at her sides. "And now, they want to wipe this land clean. Cities, farms, lives. They'll burn it all."
Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "Why destroy the world that feeds me? Why kill the cattle when they're still producing blood?"
So that was it. Even if her reasons were personal, selfish even, Leo could tell she wasn't lying—not about her resentment.
"Even if I believe you," he said, "I'm not traveling with you. That's a risk I won't take."
"Then take this." She reached into her dress and tossed a rolled scroll at him.
He caught it with his magic, unrolling it at a distance.
"It's a summoning scroll," she explained. "Call me when you need help. Think of it as a token of trust."
Leo's eyes scanned the circle—familiar structure, but not identical to typical teleport runes. He detected no malice in it, but still kept his guard up as he rolled it and tucked it into his magic bag.
"You're cautious," she said with a small grin. "I like that."
"You could've given this to me in the city. Why follow me?"
"I was curious," she replied with a shrug. "I wanted to see where you were going. What you'd do."
Leo didn't answer, but his silence said plenty.
"Well, since we're not traveling together, I'll be off." A vortex of blood formed at her feet, spiraling around her like a living storm.
"Whatever it is you're doing," she called out as the blood rose higher, "do it quickly. I can't wait to chop off my brother's head."
With a final grin, she vanished into the tornado—and the forest fell quiet once more.
Leo stood still for a moment longer, scanning the surroundings with his vision spells. Only when he was absolutely certain that he was alone did he resume walking.
If Luciana was telling the truth, then he finally had a glimpse of what the vampires were after. But the question gnawed at him—why would they want to destroy the very world they fed from? Had they discovered a new source of sustenance? Or had one of the gods whispered something tempting in their ears? Something powerful enough to make them turn on their own food supply?
Frowning, Leo kept moving. His thoughts circled restlessly as he made his way along the path toward Arestin—the merchant city by the sea.
…
In the city of Flesa, inside Edmond's headquarters, Liam trained with Faleria in the open-air courtyard. The rhythmic clack of wooden weapons echoed through the space, accompanied by sharp breaths and the thud of footwork against the stone floor. Ever since the news of Leo's death had reached them, something in Faleria had changed. She trained harder, spoke less, and carried herself with a colder edge—as if blaming herself for not preventing his demise.
Liam, too, had changed. The loss of someone so close in age, someone he looked up to—someone stronger, smarter, faster—left a mark. If Leo could fall, then Liam needed to be stronger. He had to protect himself, and more importantly, those he loved. There was no more room for excuses.
Currently, Liam was an E-rank conjurer, still early in his journey. He had begun learning conjuration only a few months ago, but already he had set a goal: reach D-rank before his seventeenth birthday.
Though being a warrior wasn't one of his chosen paths, Edmond insisted that basic combat knowledge was essential, especially for a paladin. So Liam endured the drills—swordplay, defensive maneuvers, and physical training—without complaint.
After finishing his session, he followed his usual routine. A quick bath to clean the sweat, then off to the library where a scholar from the Church continued teaching him the fundamentals of conjuration. Only after that did he return to his family's mansion.
A year ago, all of this had been little more than obligation—boxes to check as a noble son. Now, each lesson and sparring session carried weight. He wanted to improve. No—he needed to. And still, even with all the effort he poured in, he couldn't match the meteoric pace Leo had once shown.
Later that evening, freshly showered and dressed in his formal clothes, Liam stood before the door to his older brother's room. His steps were deliberate, and his mind clear. In his own home, many saw him as a disappointment—weak, uncertain, lacking direction. But not his brother. Never his brother.
He knocked. "Come in," came the reply from inside.
Liam opened the door. His brother, Steve Hans, stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back as the breeze stirred his short black hair. The warm golden light of sunset poured in behind him, outlining his silhouette like a painting.
"Liam," Steve said with a welcoming smile, "you finally decided to come see your brother."
But as his eyes settled on Liam's serious expression, the warmth faded slightly. "Is something wrong?"
Liam stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Brother, I want you to help me improve my abilities."
Steve tilted his head. "Improve your abilities?"
"You're the strongest conjurer I know," Liam said without hesitation.
That wasn't flattery. Steve Hans was a B minus rank conjurer at only twenty-five years old.
Steve raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were already training at the Paladin Association?"
"I am. But it's not enough. I need more."
The older brother watched him quietly for a moment, as if weighing something behind those sharp eyes. Then he sighed, slowly.
"All right. Training begins tomorrow," he said. "And you'd better be ready. I'm not going easy on you."
A grin broke across Liam's face, and he bowed low. "Thank you, brother."
…
After two days of trekking through the dense forest and another day on the main road, Leo finally reached a narrow entrance between two mountain ridges. Just beyond it, a line of carriages stood waiting, likely resting before heading toward the city. He managed to hitch a ride with one of them, saving himself another few days of walking.
When the city of Arestin came into view, it was just as he'd imagined—big, messy, and loud.
From a distance, Arestin sprawled over a gentle slope that slanted toward the sea. The buildings were mostly small, the largest no more than three stories tall. Thanks to the incline, Leo could see the sparkling ocean from where he stood, its surface dotted with ships. Dozens of them flew pirate flags.
Even though the city had guards stationed at the gates, no one stopped Leo or asked for identification. It was clear Arestin wasn't the kind of place where rules held much power.
The main street bustled with activity, but it was the narrow alleys that told the real story. Shifty groups loitered in shadows, most with their faces hidden beneath hoods. Those whose faces were visible looked rough—scars, twisted smiles, and eyes that said they'd seen too much. The city had no uniform structure. Some houses were thrown together from planks of rotting wood; others were built with a mix of timber and rough brown stone, like patchwork stitched from whatever materials could be scavenged.
Leo moved toward the sea, or at least where he thought it was. The twisting streets didn't make it easy. He passed several inns and noisy taverns along the way before stopping in front of one that looked slightly less run-down than the rest.
The sign read: The Lush Seagull.
He pushed the door open. The inside went quiet instantly. Conversations halted, chairs stopped creaking, and dozens of eyes turned to him. Unbothered, Leo walked to the counter and took a seat on one of the creaky stools.
"Boss," he said calmly, "give me a beer."
The barkeeper, a heavyset man with a stained apron and cautious eyes, set down a wooden mug in front of him. But before Leo could take a sip, movement caught his.
A large, muscular man stood from a corner table, flanked by two others. They made their way over, boots thudding against the floor with weight and purpose.
"You there," the leader said as he stopped behind Leo, voice like gravel. "Strangers don't last long unless they buy a round."