Long, long ago...

Countless tales surrounded the vampires.

As one of the apex dark creatures, they not only wielded immense individual strength but were gifted with nearly immortal regenerative abilities.

Pierced bodies, severed limbs—none of it mattered. As long as their source of power was intact, they could rise again, every time...

Yet the most terrifying part was their sinister command over blood itself.

What is blood?

It courses through the veins of countless beings, the very essence of life itself.

But vampires wielded a power they were never meant to possess—a wicked dominion over blood.

Imagine: your own blood betraying you at a crucial moment. The mere thought sends chills down one's spine.

Vampires are demons who dance amidst blood, elegant yet fatal.

Legends of their dark exploits abound—they were among the most formidable forces of monsters during the holy wars.

Countless human warriors were drained dry, becoming mere nourishment in their goblets...

But at some point, vampires began to fade from human sight.

Since the end of the holy wars, their presence dwindled, as if vanishing entirely.

Even as the majority of monsters were driven out of this world, some remnants lingered.

And yet, the vampires—the true elites among monsters—grew so scarce they were no longer a threat.

Not just vampires; many other monsters gradually disappeared for reasons shrouded in deeper complexities.

Vampires remain a curious existence.

They possess unnaturally prolonged “lifespans,” yet paradoxically, they are technically “dead.”

And as beings who are no longer living, it’s theoretically impossible for them to continue their bloodline through conventional methods.

What’s more, vampires are often solitary and eccentric, valuing a sumptuous feast over the trifling matter of love.

Thus, their bloodline persists through the ritual of "Turnings." But Turnings come at a cost—the potential of the offspring is forever capped by the donor’s limits.

No matter how gifted, the next generation can never surpass the previous. Over countless cycles, the power in their blood diminishes.

Eventually, their essence becomes so diluted that they can no longer be called vampires—just creatures with traces of vampiric traits.

To make matters more peculiar, vampire society adheres to a rigid hierarchy.

The upper ranks wield absolute authority over the lower, capable of taking everything—even life itself.

This domination isn’t merely social; it’s ingrained in their blood.

Upper vampires radiate an invisible yet irresistible pressure, an unyielding force that no lower-tier vampire can resist.

When a vampire undergoes a Turning, their body circulates not just their own blood, but the essence of their maker.

And yet, for the strongest among vampires—like Yuri—such rules are trivial. Should she wish, her aura alone could crush most vampires without needing any blood lineage ties.

After all, when power and rank diverge so vastly, rules become nothing but a joke.

That’s why Yuri was so astonished when Betty turned against her.

The girl’s bloodline was impure, a shoddy blend of incompatible elements, yet it carried faint traces of vampiric essence.

Her reckless courage in challenging Yuri was... commendable in its own twisted way.

But this, by no means, implied Yuri wouldn’t be angered.

To Yuri, that disjointed bloodline stank of imposed corruption, nearing her limits of tolerance.

Vampires may lack principles, but they hold pride inherent to their blood.

Forcing their noble lineage to mix with vulgar, foreign essences is an unforgivable affront—a direct insult to their race.

It is sacrilege, a provocation against the dignity embedded within their very beings.

When Yuri vanquished her opponent, the slaughtered being didn't merely die; it became part of her—body and soul alike, forever trapped within her.

Initially, Yuri thought Betty’s demise might grant her valuable insight.

But in the moment of devouring, the girl’s soul and form were obliterated by a strange, foreign power—cleanly, completely.

That destructive force didn’t belong to Yuri. It acted like a hidden time bomb, poised to trigger at the final moments.

Betty’s body and soul dissolved in its wake, leaving not a trace.

Yuri had foreseen the seal upon Betty’s soul, but she hadn’t expected such ruthless execution.

To ensure no information could leak, even the very fragments of her soul were annihilated.

—

“Hey…”

Reining in her scattered thoughts, Yuri tilted her head slightly toward Zuo Yuan.

“One each—how about it?”

Zuo Yuan blinked, seeming startled, before realizing what she meant.

He glanced at their snarling adversaries, then back at Yuri’s frail appearance, an odd expression flickering across his face.

But in the end, he nodded.

Appearances can be deceiving—though Yuri's petite frame lacked any outward intimidation, she exuded a profound, inexpressible sense of danger.

That was enough to earn Zuo Yuan’s respect. He'd never underestimate her.

Walking to Zuo Yuan’s side, the man cradled a pale and feeble girl in his arms, lifting her gently.

“Lord Zuo Yuan, I’ll leave Her Highness in your care for now.”

For a moment, Zuo Yuan’s face displayed signs of inner conflict.

He hesitated, sighed quietly, and finally replied, “Rest assured. She won’t come to harm.”

With a solemn nod, Zuo Yuan closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

And when those eyes reopened, his calm demeanor gave way to a sharp, lethal aura.

Like a blade unsheathed, his mere gaze radiated a piercing chill.

Yuri cast a fleeting glance toward him.

“The male is yours. As for the other one…” Her gaze shifted to the dark silhouette in the distance.

"I’ll handle that one myself."

Zuo Yuan said nothing. His silence was punctuated only by the quiet smoothing of the folds in his gloves.

But in the blink of an eye, that same careful motion bristled with an unmistakable, icy killing intent.

**BOOM!**

The ground ahead erupted.

Countless threads sliced through dirt, whipping forward like venomous serpents toward their target.

Caught off guard, their enemy—a figure named Mo—had no time to evade.

Yet...

“Hahahahaha! Come! Show me how terrifying the ‘Reaper’ truly is!”

Mo bellowed his challenge.

Instead of dodging, he rushed headlong into the assault, bone-white claws glowing with toxic green light.

**Shhhk—crrrash!**

The threads shattered under his claws, while others sliced into his flesh, only to skitter off, leaving sparks where steel kissed his hardened body.

Frowning, Zuo Yuan’s sharp gaze darkened.

Before he could dwell, Mo barreled forward, leaving a trail of after-images, swiftly closing the distance between them.

Powerful defenses should—by logic—sacrifice speed.

Clearly, logic didn’t apply here.

**BOOM!**

“Die! Die! DIE!”

A frenzied claw strike gouged through air, narrowly missing Zuo Yuan.

As the madness in Mo’s grin burned brighter, his strikes multiplied—a storm of claw shadows filled the room.

Tables, cabinets—anything caught within his rampage was shredded into splinters.

Even the reinforced walls crumbled like tofu beneath his touch.

Amid this chaos, Zuo Yuan’s breathing remained steady, his movements precise.

No matter how relentless Mo’s assault, Zuo Yuan seemed to predict it all, evading with mechanical perfection.

Though Mo wreaked havoc across their surroundings, his claws never grazed Zuo Yuan—even once.

—

While chaos took root on one side, the stillness between Yuri and Shadow was deafening.

Even as the other two battled in their proximity, neither of them moved—both standing quietly, gazes locked.

Yuri studied the girl named Shadow with unrelenting scrutiny.

Likewise, Shadow stared back at her, head cocked to one side, wearing an unsettling smile.

Without warning, Yuri spoke softly.

“Let’s begin…"

She cast a fleeting glance at Maria standing nearby. Then, Yuri stepped forward.

Shadow tilted her head further, her smile twisting grotesquely. She wasted no time, charging toward Yuri like a feral predator.

The room was vast, but within seconds, they passed one another.

And then…

**BANG!**

Before Shadow’s hand could reach Yuri, a pistol was pressed against her forehead.

The trigger pulled. Blood sprayed.

Sent flying like a ragdoll, Shadow tumbled across the floor, crashing hard against the ground before coming to a stop.

“...Heh...Heh heh…”

Blood spread into a crimson pool beneath her. Yet what accompanied it was that eerie, gurgling laughter.

Her body twitched unnaturally, rising upright against gravity as though pulled by invisible strings.

**Ding.**

The bullet fell from her forehead, clinking against the floor before evaporating into blood mist.

The gory wound healed immediately.

“It’s been forever since I’ve felt this... This exquisite pain.”

She ran her tongue along the blood on her cheek, her grin twisting further into madness.

“My blood trembles within me. Tell me, do you know why?”

Yuri shrugged, casual as ever.

“Because you’re scared... Little girl.”

“Scared? Ha... Ha ha ha! You think I’m afraid?! ME?!—”

**BANG!**

Before Shadow could finish her sentence, another bullet slammed her head back.

She collapsed again, blood splattering everywhere.

“Too loud,” Yuri muttered, her eyes cold as frost.

**BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!**

The air erupted with gunfire, flower-like sprays of crimson painting the room as the bullets tore through Shadow's body.

Chest—legs—arms—every part, except her head and heart, was obliterated in a symphony of gore.

Shadow’s mangled remains were barely distinguishable from the ground itself.

“Pitiful creature. On your knees, and wait for your end.”

**THUD!**

Yuri’s boot slammed into Shadow, sending her limp form hurtling into a wall.

She slumped there, quivering and broken. Life refused to leave her body—true death still distant, impossible.

“Rise...”

Holstering her weapon, Yuri’s gaze bored into the writhing remains.

“Tell me... do you fear death now?”