The moon hung low, veiled in a thick shroud of clouds as if the heavens themselves feared what was unfolding below. The silence in Ironvale was not peaceful; it was watchful, an eerie calm like a beast holding its breath before the kill.
Elias stood at the edge of the blood-marked chamber beneath the ruins of Saint Lucien's Monastery. His heartbeat no longer sounded entirely human. It was deeper now, slower… hungrier.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" the Devil's voice curled through his mind, smooth and serpentine.
Elias didn't answer aloud. His eyes scanned the altar ahead—a crude slab soaked in centuries of dried sacrifices. Strange runes pulsated faintly across its surface, reacting to his presence. The air smelled of iron and rot. Something ancient stirred beneath the stone.
He stepped forward.
Each footfall echoed like a gunshot in the tomb-like silence. The System's interface flickered across his vision:
[Blood Sigil Recognized: Accessing Hidden Memory Fragment.]
Pain shot through his skull as a memory—foreign yet familiar—forced itself into his mind. He saw flames, screams, a woman torn apart by claws too large to be human. A mark on her chest—his mark—blazed in agony.
He fell to his knees.
"She was important to you," the Devil whispered. "A casualty in your first life. Do you remember her name?"
"No," Elias growled, fists clenched against the dirt. "But I remember the rage."
[Blood Trait Activated: Wrathborn Awakening – Tier I Unlocked.]
A red aura erupted around him, his bones cracking, realigning under the pressure of raw power. His nails blackened, eyes glowing a deep crimson. A monstrous reflection shimmered briefly in the altar—fangs, horns, and seething hatred.
Elias rose, trembling but unbroken.
"Good," the Devil purred. "Now let's test your new strength."
---
Miles away, in the city's upper districts, a body slammed against a windowpane before crashing to the ground below. Blood streaked across marble floors as a hooded figure stalked through the shattered estate.
Steve, the once-exiled vampire warlord, was no longer hiding in the shadows.
His eyes—pitch black with a halo of crimson—searched for something. Or someone.
He didn't speak. His minions followed in silence, their claws slick with gore. They didn't need orders; Steve's thoughts were their command.
"Where is it?" he hissed finally, crouching over the twitching remains of the estate's butler. "Where is the vessel of the Black Sigil?"
The butler couldn't speak. His throat had been torn out.
"Waste," Steve muttered.
A flash of lightning revealed a mark on his palm, matching the one Elias had just awakened. Steve snarled, the veins in his neck bulging.
"He's awakened it... Too soon."
He turned to his followers. "Double the hunt. Send the Bloodhounds into the southern quarters. I want the boy. Alive—barely."
The vampires hissed in agreement and vanished into the storm.
---
Elias stumbled out of the monastery ruins hours later, his clothes torn, blood streaking down his neck. The sky had begun to weep. Cold droplets masked the sweat on his brow.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
1 New Message: UNKNOWN
"They're hunting you. Ironvale bleeds tonight. Find the orphanage before midnight. Or the children die screaming."
Elias's stomach sank.
The old church-run orphanage at the edge of Ironvale had once sheltered him after his first escape from the lab. He remembered Sister Miriam's warm smile, the way she tucked a book under his pillow each night.
Now it was a target.
"This is your trial," the Devil whispered. "Rescue. Or revenge. Choose quickly."
---
The streets of Ironvale were slick and glistening. Flames reflected in puddles as vampire spawns attacked civilians at random, their hunger amplified by Steve's influence.
Elias moved like a shadow, dodging debris and bloodshed. He didn't stop to help. He couldn't afford to—not yet.
The orphanage came into view. Smoke was curling from its rooftop.
Elias leapt the fence, his feet barely touching the ground. Screams echoed from inside.
He kicked the doors in.
The hallway was a slaughterhouse.
Three vampire minions loomed over a cowering group of children, their fangs dripping. Sister Miriam was on the ground, her arm twisted unnaturally.
"HEY!"
The creatures turned.
Elias threw his hands forward, instinct guiding him.
[Blood Surge – Tier I]
A ripple of dark red energy exploded from his palms, sending the minions crashing into the walls. One howled, its chest caving in from the force. The others lunged at him.
Elias ducked, rolled, then plunged a broken piece of iron piping into one vampire's heart. It shrieked and turned to ash.
The third slashed across his chest. Elias hissed in pain, then bit into his own palm.
[Blood Bond – Engaged]
His wound healed instantly, and his strength doubled. He lifted the creature by its throat and slammed it into the burning chandelier overhead.
Flames consumed it.
Sister Miriam groaned. Elias rushed to her side.
"You came back…" she whispered. "You always come back."
"Rest," he murmured, helping her up. "We're not done yet."
He turned to the children.
"Hide in the cellar. Do not open it until morning."
They obeyed without question.
As Elias stepped back into the storm, something shifted in the air.
A slow clap echoed.
Steve stood on the edge of the orphanage fence, his trench coat flapping like wings.
"Impressive, vessel," he grinned. "But you're still only half-born."
Elias felt his blood freeze.
Steve jumped down, landing with a crunch.
"Let's see what the Devil's pet can really do."