"Yes, sir... It's a matter of utmost importance that I wish to report directly to the Blood King, sir..."
Biz bowed even deeper, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead despite the chilling air that seemed to freeze his fingertips. Standing before a Warlord Rank Vampire, the sense of pressure was unavoidable. Although Biz himself was an Elite Vampire – a Leader Rank – he understood clearly... The distance between them wasn't just one step. It was an unfathomable abyss.
William—the grotesque Blood Devil with matted hair covering his face and skin covered in eyes—was one of the names that made every other Vampire wary. He was unstable, unpredictable, and monstrously cruel.
But what Biz feared most wasn't William's deformed appearance... It was the power he possessed, which defied all logic. A true Devil, hidden beneath the decaying shell of a body.
William tilted his head, looking at Biz like a trembling, gasping lab rat.
"You can tell me, Biz, can't you? Or... are you looking down on me?"
He offered a terribly twisted smile.
Biz's face paled at those words. He quickly prostrated himself, stammering, "N-no, sir! I wouldn't dare! Of course, you have the right to know first! I... I'll tell you everything, right away..."
William said nothing more. He lightly blinked a few of the eyes on his shoulder, then slowly turned his head.
"Good. Then come to my chambers."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of an undeniable command.
"Such important information... shouldn't be discussed here. Let's go."
He turned, his gaunt body gliding past the two guards, entering the side gate like a phantom. Before disappearing completely, he turned back, giving a cold order:
"Guards! This is a serious matter. From now on, I'm taking over. Everything that happens here... is absolutely secret."
The two gate-guarding Vampires glanced at each other, their expressions clearly showing awkwardness. One was about to open his mouth to ask again but before he could utter a word...
"Do you understand what I mean?"
William stopped, his eyes lifting. One of the eyes on his neck opened, glowing with a blood-red glint as if aimed directly at their souls.
The two guards immediately bowed deeply, hands over their chests.
"Yes, sir... We understand, Lord William."
Not daring to look further, Biz glanced at their eyes, then silently followed William inside. The side gate closed, leaving behind a thick layer of frost blanketing the air... and a part of Biz's heart feeling as if it had frozen solid.
This apocalyptic world... was still silently turning. The moment John plunged that fateful sword into Jack's chest... his soul returned. And at that very instant... the gears of fate began to turn.
A Brief Explanation of Abilities in the World of Last Light in the Red SkyIn the Vampire world of Aetherion, from the Elite Rank upwards, almost every individual possesses a unique ability.
These are supernatural powers that manifest during the species' evolution, mostly tied to instinct or magical manipulation. Some can control elements—fire, ice, wind, metal. Some enhance their bodies to transcend physical limits. Others manipulate blood, shadows, souls, or create illusions and enthrall human minds.
However...
For most Elite Rank Vampires, even if they possess abilities, their potency ranges only from intermediate to advanced, depending on their inherent foundation and individual training. A practitioner who trains for hundreds of years might reach an advanced level... but cannot surpass the inherent biological limits of their rank.
Even Regular Rank Vampires—though rarer—can still possess magic or abilities at an intermediate level through learning or exposure to mystical artifacts. Like the Vampire in the treasure hunting guild you encountered earlier in the story. He was only an intermediate-level Vampire, but he could use several powerful types of Lightning magic thanks to his ability to learn and train. Nevertheless, his power—never exceeded the "intermediate" threshold. That Electric Shock attack was very strong but completely drained his mana.
But when it comes to Warlord Rank Vampires, everything... is completely different.
These are special individuals. Born under special conditions. Bitten or drinking the blood of Vampires said to have the closest lineage to legendary Vampires, even close to the King of all beings, Dracula. Warlord abilities usually cannot be learned, replicated, or acquired through practice. They are simply... absolute innate talent.
From the advanced level upwards, many of their abilities have reached the Supreme threshold—meaning powers that can affect large areas, even change the tide of battle with a single activation. That's why Warlord Vampires are incredibly rare. Among millions of Vampires present throughout Aetherion, the number of Warlords might not even reach three digits. To reach this level, one needs not only power but also "selection"—almost like a blood-soaked blessing from the Red Sky.
As for Legendary Rank Vampires... That's an entirely different story. A separate class, not just powerful... but mythical. They no longer live as creatures. They are symbols. Living souls. And the Blood King, Max Draventhal, who rules all of Ashengrave, is one of them. People call him the "Frost God of the Aetherion continent." But that title... is merely the surface. The truth behind Max Draventhal—will be revealed in another chapter.
Back to William and BizBiz stood in William's private room, deep within the fortress of the Blood King, Max Draventhal. Logically, the dwelling of a Warlord Rank Vampire should be a luxurious, cold, and authoritative space befitting his title. But no. What assaulted Biz's eyes at this moment was a sight that made his stomach churn instantly. The room... was a living nightmare. On the ceiling and walls, dark red blood tendrils clung like spiderwebs. They weren't motionless—they trembled slightly, slimy, as if breathing.
The ground was muddy and slippery with a mixture of fresh blood, bodily fluids, and countless traces of human remains. There were even fresh pieces of flesh, full of pulsing veins, still twitching despite no longer having life. Objects lay scattered and broken everywhere. Empty blood vials lay strewn across the floor, some still stained with lipstick, others containing... human teeth. Only one corner—a black wooden table and chair—looked intact. That was where William was sitting.
Biz tried to press himself against the wall, staying away from the dripping chunks of flesh beside him. He swallowed hard, then began to speak.
"Jack the Butcher... truly died... and then came back to life. And he's currently with that old man."
William remained seated, his feet propped on the table. A few slimy bits of flesh clung to his heels, falling to the floor, but no one bothered to notice. He raised an eyebrow, his central eye partially opening. The other eyes on his body constantly darted around the room, like a writhing swarm of snakes clinging to his skin.
"Yes, sir..." Biz continued, his voice serious. "The humans in the basement recounted everything like that. Especially the part... about the sword in that old man's hand... when it strikes Vampires, our kin are incinerated as if under sunlight."
Biz tried to remain calm, but his gaze couldn't stop darting around the disgusting room. It felt like something that shouldn't exist could emerge from any corner. William didn't respond immediately. He leaned back, his eyes beginning to sink into thought. He was contemplating.
"An Elite Rank Vampire dies... then comes back to life? And then acts like a human? He wants to protect those weak humans... and ends up following some unknown old man?"
"Jack... what's happening to you..." William mused to himself. "You were someone I really liked. Extremely liked."
"As for that sword..." A cold flash crossed his eyes. "If the Supreme Council knew such a thing existed in Ashengrave, Max's power would... be shaken."
William sighed very softly, not out of fear... but annoyance. "Hmm... perhaps..."
A moment of silence.
"Perhaps I should handle this myself..."
"Lord William... are you there...?"
Biz's voice broke through the heavy thoughts swirling in William's head. He turned, his central eye fixing on Biz's pale face. Several other eyes on his shoulder and neck also followed, synchronously like a swarm of living creatures. William's voice was soft, but steady and deep:
"Does anyone else know about this besides us two?"
Biz swallowed, quickly replying, "Ah... no, sir. Only my team, about four people. They're all close guards. Oh, and... sir... will I receive a reward?" He forced a slightly awkward smile. "I think... five Bloodcores would be a fitting reward for this service, sir."
William slowly offered a twisted smile. His cracked lips stretched wide, revealing jagged, moist teeth.
"Ah... of course, Biz." His voice was low, like a death lullaby. "Your information... is very valuable. Even... more than your life."
Biz flinched. An instinctive alarm blared in his head. He took a slight step back, his hand subtly tightening on the staff's hilt.
But... it was too late. From William's back, a long, eye-covered, blood-red tentacle shot out at high speed. It wrapped tightly around Biz's throat in an instant. Biz struggled, his hand touching the staff... but he couldn't activate anything. The tentacle constricted his windpipe.
And then—it plunged straight into his throat. A wet, gurgling sound echoed in the room, as if a snake were burrowing into someone's stomach. The horrifying scene unfolded amidst William's grotesque laughter. He whispered, full of sarcasm:
"What a pity, Biz." "The information you provided... is too great for your small life. Letting you live... would be too dangerous. I... apologize, you see."
The tentacle continued to sink deeper into his throat, and Biz's eyes—originally blood-red—began to turn black. Not normal black. But a living, moving black, in which... dozens of tiny eyes appeared, swirling continuously as if something was... looking out from within.
A moment later. The fortress's side gate opened. Biz stepped out. Still the same cloak. Still the same face. But his eyes... were empty like someone whose soul had been drained.
The two royal guards saw him and immediately approached. "Biz! How was it? What did Lord William say?"
Biz didn't reply. He just... stared at them. His eyes empty. Soulless. If one looked closely, they would see black veins protruding along his neck, tangled like parasitic roots. Without another word, he leaped onto the back of a Blood Horse, yanked the reins, and galloped off in an instant, leaving behind a chilling wind sweeping through the corridor. The two guards remained standing there, looking at each other, bewildered.
Three Hours LaterJust three hours later, propelled by the incredible speed of the Blood Horse, he returned to the ruined castle from before. Biz dismounted, slowly entering the castle gate. Still Biz—an Elite Rank Vampire. But something was very different. Each of his steps was no longer as steady as before; his entire body occasionally twitched slightly, especially his neck, as if something inside was writhing. His eyes were deeply black, empty, his gaze lifeless and chilling. If one looked closely, his wrists, legs, and temples showed grotesque black veins, like rotten roots wrapped around his body.
The surrounding scene had completely changed. The Vampires were finishing clearing the debris from the battle. Blood stations were set up, and human slaves were herded into lines, assigned tasks in groups. It seemed this was the familiar procedure whenever the Empire captured a new stronghold.
Biz's eyes swept around. He was looking for someone. A moment later, from a corner of the fortress, three close guards appeared. He immediately walked straight towards them. Each of Biz's steps seemed about to falter, yet exuded a deadly aura that made every Vampire around pause.
"Lord Biz! You're back!"
"Did you meet the Blood King?"
The three of them clamored, their voices full of curiosity and hope. Little did they know... they had just spoken to someone who was no longer Biz. Without a word, Biz reached behind him and drew his staff. His eyes were devoid of emotion. A giant fireball immediately gathered at the tip of the staff, then in a flash, shot straight at the three bewildered Vampires. Everything happened in an instant—no one had time to react.
The fireball, carrying terrifying heat, flew at an impossible speed. The three Vampires didn't even realize—that their own leader had just attacked them. A violent explosion erupted, the ground shook, forming a deep, charred crater, and there... nothing remained but smoking chunks of flesh, splattered across the stone walls. No one survived. They were utterly obliterated.
Biz stood there. Motionless. Silent. His eyes as lifeless as if he had never had a soul.
Immediately, the entire area exploded into chaos.
"Biz betrayed us! He killed our kin!!" —a roar echoed throughout the fortress.
"He must have been enchanted by those human mages!"
"Kill him! Kill him!!!"
No one needed orders. All Vampires present in the city immediately rushed forward to attack Biz—the one who had just transformed from a leader into a traitor. Swords, spears, bare-handed blows, magic—all rained down upon his body.
But Biz... just stood still. He raised both hands, his eyes looking directly up at the blood-red sky, not resisting, not dodging. Swords pierced his flesh. Spears stabbed directly into his chest. Magic incinerated his entire body. But he didn't cry out. Didn't scream. Didn't react.
He collapsed. His body charred, bleeding from multiple places, his eyes still lifelessly wide open. He was dead. But perhaps... he had died even before that.
...
A moment later.
From inside Biz's mouth—a black crow emerged. Its entire body was covered in pitch-black feathers, and instead of two, it had four blood-red eyes—two on its face, two on its forehead. It made no sound. It simply flapped its wings silently and flew up, blending into the blood-red sky of the Red Sky.