At the heart of Brierda, capital of the Creti Empire.
Deep beneath the earth lay an ultra-ancient subterranean city-state, linked to the surface only by a handful of spatial nodes at concealed entrances.
On this autumn night, a crimson blood moon hung high beneath the pitch-black dome. Magic apparatus simulated the cascading glow of pristine moonlight, casting a hazy red veil over the city of dark stone.
Lining the empty streets, the towering, imposing silhouettes of buildings etched the eerie shadows of ultra-ancient Blood Moon art, as though freezing the dust of untold ages in place. Only an occasional gentle breeze drifted through the silent thoroughfares.
"The color of the blood moon is truly breathtaking."
A man walked past, the polished buttons on his iron-gray uniform reflecting the bloody glow overhead.
Above ground, he always strode with his head held high, casting arrogant glances at his surroundings. Yet down here, he could not help but humble his posture.
As an operations team captain of the Imperial Special Operations Department, no one could easily tail him. Besides, with an underground city accessible solely via spatial nodes, entering or leaving went entirely undetected.
Colonel Maguire gradually approached the edge of the subterranean city, where an imposing castle built from natural obsidian stood silently in the dark.
Cold silver trimmings lined the castle's outer walls, accented with red crystal carvings.
Maguire stepped inside, making his way through multiple corridors before pushing open a colossal door carved with incantations.
The space opened up before him, revealing a majestic council-hall palace.
"Milady, I have arrived."
Maguire bowed low in obsequious deference, as if addressing the emperor himself. For all his burly physique, his shadow shrank into a tight knot.
His voice was deep, unable to conceal the worry in his tone.
"..."
No answer came from the hall, and he dared not stand.
Though he was the Imperial Special Operations Department's sole Tier 7 combatant, before the Blood Clan, he felt as weak as an insect.
High above beneath the vaulted ceiling, a rose window set with immortal crystals refracted kaleidoscopic, hallucinatory hues. A chandelier forged of black iron hung from cold chains, casting extravagant shades of light. A crimson carpet wound like a river of blood, stretching all the way to the far end of his vision—
To the center of the council hall, where thirteen throne-like high-backed chairs lined either side of a long table forged from dark refined iron.
Yet at this moment, the immense hall was desolate. A lone figure sat solitary upon the seventh high-backed chair.
The distant figure tilted her head slightly upward, her eyes shut tight as though looking right through the vaulted ceilings to perceive the patterns woven by the dazzling stars in the night sky.
"Maguire, forgive me for calling you here at such an hour."
She murmured in a calm, ethereal cadence, sounding half wistful and half self-pitying.
"Serving the Blood Clan is the greatest honor of my life."
The man dared not take her apology at face value. He knew full well the Marquis was merely being polite; every order from the Blood Clan was absolute law to him.
"Violet has been lured away," he reported instead. "Hyacinthus will not leave headquarters. As long as no Tier 8 clash erupts in the capital, Hyacinthus will not react."
His previous directive had been to keep Violet, the Sixth War God of the Aquamarine Seat, away from the capital of Brierda for as long as possible.
And so, through the Blood Clan's machinations behind the scenes, fragments purportedly belonging to the King of Skeletons, an ultra-ancient divine beast, had surfaced within the empire. The discovered ruins were deemed exceptionally hazardous, requiring someone of overwhelming might to protect the imperial expedition team and Saint Creti Monastery's archaeology professors. In the end, Principal Violet decided to make the trip in person to Lake Stabergen, bordering Botswana Province.
She would temporarily freeze the entire lake around the exploration cavern, and in any battle over or under water, Violet would hold an absolute advantage.
Violet was the ideal choice. In truth, aside from her, only Hyacinthus, the First War God, could guarantee absolute safety. But Hyacinthus was the commander-in-chief and could not be mobilized lightly, leaving Aquamarine Violet as the only option.
For some time, Violet would not return to Saint Creti Monastery.
"Very well. It is enough for the empire and the Allied forces to wear each other down. This time, there will be no demon race to aid them."
Though the vampire Marquis's voice was soft, it cut as bitter and biting as autumn frost, carrying an unresolved sorrow that had lingered for millennia.
Whether it was the empire's Tier 8 hero units or those of the Allies, their numbers would only dwindle as the war dragged on.
Legion units and city defense fortifications were equally difficult to replenish once lost.
"How are things at the front lines? Will any other War Gods return?" Marquis Heriteer turned her head slightly, asking offhandedly.
Their Blood Clan possessed top-tier hero units, but lacked legion units. They could only make use of humans, or convert them.
In a sense, legions were minion waves; without minions to absorb fire from enemy fortifications and magic-engineering barriers, even hero units could not break through single-handedly and risked falling while tanking the towers.
By now, the intense clashes of the war's opening phase had gradually subsided. With the loss of strategic ground on their southern perimeter, the Allied forces had voluntarily surrendered certain regions, resources, and vision, contracting northward into a tight formation. It was no longer easy for the empire to catch Allied hero units alone outside their fortifications.
What followed would hinge largely on macro management, the outcomes of large-scale engagements, and the struggle over neutral resources.
Once the fighting reached a fever pitch and the external pressure left the empire no room for distraction, it would present the Blood Clan's golden opportunity to strike at the core and seize total control of the Creti Empire.
At present, the few War Gods yet to fall under the sway of Duke Rasheal, the Third Progenitor, remained the greatest variables.
"Apart from the Third War God, Guyatt of the Sardonyx, and the Fifth War God, Lugayed of the Muscovite, who are rotating back to the capital, only the Tenth War God, Julius of the Rubellite Seat, is likely to return in the near term," Maguire replied deferentially, remaining on one knee with a hand resting upon it. "Beyond that, it will not be until next month's Creti National Day Festival that a substantial number of War Gods return to maintain order for the ceremonies and receive the blessing of the God of War and Swords."
The War Gods of Creti all carried a temporary blessing from the God of War and Swords, granting a modest boost to their base attributes. The annual National Day Festival was when these blessings were renewed.
Divine blessings could not coexist; one could hold only a single blessing at any given time. However, the blessing of the God of War and Swords possessed by the Creti Empire was of a rare, purely offensive nature, and the version bestowed upon the War Gods had an exceptionally long duration, unlike the fleeting effects of most divine blessings.
"What happened with the Tenth War God, Julius the Rubellite?" Marquis Heriteer nodded gently. Her only surprise lay in why such a comparatively weak War God was returning.
In the Creti Empire, the Eleventh War God, Simonro of the Emerald, was a healer and support, while the Twelfth War God, Bianca of the Cat's Eye, was a scout. Both were far more useful than the purely offensive Tenth War God, Julius the Rubellite; one could say the Rubellite sat at the very bottom of the War Gods.
"During the first large-scale clash between the empire and the Allies over energy in the Western Hub Zone, the Rubellite turned the tide with a single cannon shot. He triggered a colossal explosion that nearly engulfed both the Allied Tier 8s led by the Western Speaker and the other War Gods," Maguire said, shaking his head. "Julius has always been like that—rash, eager for glory, and missing a screw in his head."
Toward this young general—far younger than himself yet already titled a War God—Maguire, still only a colonel, harbored far more jealousy than respect.
To their faces, he would never dare pass judgment on any War God. But here in Blood Moon City, it was different. To the Blood Clan, the War Gods were inferior creatures just like him.
Marquis Heriteer paused visibly. She truly had not anticipated that the Rubellite's return was likely because he was facing court-martial.
"Two matters. First, go kill the wolf witch who possesses the Eye of Sin Verdict." Heriteer paid no further heed to the War Gods, turning to the true business of the day.
"That might be difficult. Her brother is currently in his prime in the empire; even that old fellow Dex has taken a shine to him. If we touch his sister and he refuses to let it go, asking Dex to investigate on his behalf, it could cause serious trouble," Maguire answered after a moment's hesitation.
Duke Dex's hounds in the Imperial Special Operations Department might not be peerless in combat, but their investigative prowess was extraordinary—especially Kestrel Nikolai, who had a knack for sniffing out the faintest scent.
Infiltrating the Imperial Special Operations Department carried immense risk; widespread penetration would inevitably be uncovered by Dex. For now, the Blood Clan had turned Maguire as their only true dependent within the department, ensuring no other thralls could compromise him.
"The Brierda Mafia is currently facing liquidity issues. If the price offered is high enough, the hitmen below will likely take the contract behind their leadership's backs," Heriteer revealed indifferently.
"Understood." Maguire nodded suddenly.
He caught Marquis Heriteer's intent: subcontract it first to the Resurrection Church, and then have the Rot Branch outsource it to the Brierda Mafia.
There was no need for Heriteer to instruct him on the subsequent steps.
Once they disposed of the pawn in the Rot Branch who liaised with the mafia, that link would be severed forever with no living witnesses. Even the Imperial Special Operations Department would not trace the trail to the Resurrection Church.
It would kill two birds with one stone, sparking conflict between the Imperial Special Operations Department and the mafia.
As an agency the Blood Clan could not yet infiltrate more deeply, the Imperial Special Operations Department was undeniably the intelligence bureau that placed the greatest restriction on their movements.
"That wolf witch may have already spotted Count Saiberna at the Roland family banquet. Therefore, she can no longer be allowed to live." Marquis Heriteer looked down at Maguire kneeling before her.
Although Countess Saiberna could transform into the likeness of any human, making it easy enough to adopt a new imperial identity, the wolf witch had become a ticking time bomb. At the first opportunity, she had to be eliminated.
In this era of the Wolf Clan's decline, the Blood Clan understood them even better than the scattered wolves did themselves.
Warriors of that race saw their regenerative capabilities vastly enhanced at night alongside a boost to base attributes, while priests experienced augmented regeneration, healing, and access to special spells after dark.
The difference between regeneration and healing lay in the fact that regeneration was self-recovery, whereas healing could be cast upon oneself or others—though its potency fell far short of regeneration's staggering rate and cost more mana.
The vast majority of the Wolf Clan were physical combatants; the few magic-oriented wolves were practically considered variants of the race. Because the Wolf Clan possessed naturally resilient bodies, wolf sages could endure far more punishment than typical spellcasting practitioners.
As a unique appraisal talent, [Eye of Sin Verdict] was not particularly powerful in itself—one might even call it somewhat underwhelming. Yet its bearer became a born detective, able to see the kill count of every unit once night fell.
For humans, such a talent amounted at most to aiding police investigations by providing clues for deduction. But for the Blood Clan—especially those lurking in human society—it was utterly fatal.
For every member of the Blood Clan possessed a kill count in the tens of thousands; not even a prolific serial killer could ever reach such numbers.
"Understood. I will arrange it." Maguire lowered his head in response.
"The second matter: the Silver Moon Restoration Society's assassinations of nobles have grown increasingly rampant. While they sometimes help us eliminate political rivals, they occasionally kill the thralls we have cultivated as well," Marquis Heriteer continued.
Internal strife within the Creti Empire was undeniably advantageous to the Blood Clan.
Yet allowing a terrorist organization like the Silver Moon Restoration Society to run amok, inflaming tensions between the nobility and commoners beyond control, would leave the Blood Clan with nothing but a mess to clean up after seizing the Creti Empire.
"Have you divined their whereabouts?" Maguire looked up in surprise.
"No. The nine Venerables of that organization maintain no contact with one another. There is almost no karmic connection between the core members, making divination impossible," Marquis Heriteer replied dismissively.
She did not know when such an organization had begun operating in the Creti Empire.
Perhaps it had existed long before, but its true rise to activity had begun roughly half a year ago.
Even if one Venerable were located, it would be difficult to trace the rest through that single thread.
"The only intelligence obtained from Count Saiberna is that the third Venerable may have ties to the mafia," she added.
Maguire instantly understood why Marquis Heriteer wanted to steer the Imperial Special Operations Department into investigating the mafia.
"Then what should we do?" he asked, seeking Heriteer's guidance.
So long as the Venerables—the brains behind the operation—were not eliminated, the root would never be severed; an endless stream of imperial commoners would be stirred to join their ranks as believers of the Silver Moon Restoration Society.
"If the Silver Moon Restoration Society wants to kill, give them a hand," Heriteer said casually, leaning back against her seat.
"!"
Maguire was struck with sudden realization.
"You mean we should kill as well! Seize the opportunity to eliminate several political adversaries, fabricate sensational cases, and pin the blame on the Silver Moon Restoration Society! That will stoke the fury of the imperial nobility, forcing the Imperial Special Operations Department to thoroughly investigate the society and drawing the full attention of the empire's hounds—perhaps even accelerating the progress of our countrywide transmutation?"
Even as he asked, he marveled inwardly: this vampire marquis was truly a venomous beauty, devoid of a shred of decency.
At present, the Blood Clan was not only seizing political power in the Creti Empire, but also moving to dominate its economy and press. Eliminating troublesome imperial figures amidst the chaos with the Silver Moon Restoration Society as their scapegoat would give them free rein.
At the same time, they would assassinate a few imperial tycoons already under Blood Clan control to muddy the waters and avert suspicion.
Yet because their strikes were premeditated, they could arrange in advance to transfer the deceased's assets and authority from the left hand to the right. In essence, there would be little real loss—merely replacing one puppet with another.
Aside from the portion of humans within Creti imperial territory who could be transmuted, the kingdom citizens in Allied lands currently occupied by the empire were also living fuel. Rapidly converting them into energy would undoubtedly accelerate the war's progress.
"Indeed. There are too many humans on the Southern Continent; it is time to transmute some of them." Marquis Heriteer finally opened her eyes—deep pools of blood. From beneath a beauty mark, her gaze seemed to traverse boundless time and space, spanning countless epochs. In the shadows, none could fathom how many tumultuous ages lay buried within them.
The energy transmuted from hundreds of millions of living humans would supply Blood Moon City with boundless power, elevating it to an existence rivaling the demon race's ancestral land.
"Hahaha, I've long felt that burying those kingdom commoners in ditches was a waste. How wonderful it would be to refine them into pure energy," Maguire laughed.
"What about the imperial citizens?" Heriteer asked him.
She despised traitors to their own kind, but loathed even more those who still clung to affection for humanity.
"The same. Any human who does not submit to the Blood Clan is an inferior creature with no right to live." Maguire's expression curdled with malice.
"Crude as you are, it is precisely because people like you abound that nations fall so easily into the hands of others. No matter the era, your kind never ceases to exist." Heriteer sounded caught between mocking Maguire and praising him.
In this era, the demon race—the Blood Clan's greatest threat—had been annihilated by humans.
And having picked the opportune moment after this century's Tier 9 Shadow World swept away every contemporary Tier 9, they unsealed Duke Rasheal, the Third Progenitor.
Driven by boundless swells of greed and desire, evil cults ran rampant, the Northern and Southern Continents were fractured, and mankind continued its endless infighting for power.
These foolish acts heralded an indisputable truth—
"Disaster has come to pass; the words of ruin are already carved upon the walls of the Creti Empire."
The Marquis's exquisite, icy countenance remained calm, yet radiated an inviolable majesty.
Each of her words rang like the crisp fracture of freezing icicles as autumn drew to its close, echoing endlessly in the cavernous palace.
"Black Sun Tyrant, even if you return this time, you will no longer stop us in this era, will you? To die for such humans only to bear eternal infamy through the ages—I truly feel it was not worth it for you."
Chapter 731