Delmas couldn’t help it. The boy interested him greatly. Who knew his clan had a direct descendant like this? The ruined heir, nonetheless.
“You’re full of surprises, ruined heir of the Sanguine Clan. You’re still calm under these circumstances. I must give it to you, very impressive.”
But Malakai didn’t stop. He continued talking over him.
“It can only be her. You referenced a woman… and you were far too prepared for this ambush.”
Malakai was right. A Vita Lance wasn’t something you could just get your hands on, especially so quickly.
Malakai had only arrived at Ironhold last night. It was too soon. Even if someone had sent the information back to the clan, they wouldn’t have had enough time to arrange something this precise.
But Delmas and the others had been waiting.
They had prepared in advance. And the moment he arrived at Ironhold, they moved.
This could only mean one thing, they had wanted to kill him before he had even evolved.
And there was only one person who would blatantly want him dead.
Khana.
“You received your orders before you found out I evolved.”
Delmas’s eyes narrowed again.
‘What frightening insight.’ He got the same feeling once more.
This boy was just fourteen?
It was insane.
Regardless, it didn’t matter.
‘Too bad it’ll all go to waste.’
Malakai was going to die eventually anyway.
But just as Delmas opened his lips to speak…
Malakai beat him to it once more, spilling words that made Delmas freeze.
“Looks like it should be about time.”
Delmas’s eyes sharpened into pinpricks, his gaze locked on Malakai, who calmly shifted his body, resting his back against the tree behind him.
But before he could say a word, an aura washed over the entire forest.
It was hard to describe in words. Subtle. Thin. Like the brief flash of a scanning light.
But the moment it swept over Delmas, he felt a chill unlike anything he had ever known.
His eyes blinked.
Not because they were dry. Not because he wanted to.
No. It was because his eyes were the only thing he could currently move.
‘W-what is this?’ His thoughts trembled, and his eyes widened, locking onto Malakai, whose crimson gaze stared back at him as though he were nothing.
“Hrrkk.”
Delmas fought against the hold, straining his entire body until red veins stretched across his frame, all the way to his head.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move even a finger.
His body wasn’t responding.
His blood wasn’t responding.
‘T-this power…’
Delmas’s eyes shook as they stayed fixed on Malakai.
‘He knew about this?’
Was that why Malakai hadn’t said anything before now?
Why he had run?
Why he had wasted time?
‘That was close…’ Malakai thought, feeling a wave of relief.
Delmas had been right in his assessment.
Malakai had known what was coming.
It had been his plan ever since that second Vita Lance sent him crashing toward the forest.
Even though he hadn’t evolved until now, Malakai had read extensively on how Vita worked, its intricacies, its behavior.
He could be called an expert in the field.
With enough control, one could mask their rank by stopping the Vita in the air from being drawn to them. But doing so came at a cost.
Without the Vita in the air constantly nourishing the body, it would begin consuming the Vita within it, depleting it over time.
The longer the technique was maintained, the more severe the drain.
However, the effect wasn’t permanent.
As long as the user released their grip on the technique and allowed Vita to flow in again, they would recover their full state almost instantly.
Almost.
This was where the cost lay. The delay. The Vita needed time to flow around the body, restoring it to its original state.
And the stronger one was, the more time they needed to return to their peak.
The moment Malakai had discovered the truth about his maid, his mind had moved swiftly, calculating the best possible way to survive this circumstance.
From the very beginning, he hadn’t been running to get away from his attackers.
No.
He had been running toward where his maid had been sent flying.
The same maid who had protected him from an attack that could obliterate a city district.
Delmas’s intervention had disrupted the plan, but not completely.
Malakai had gotten close enough.
After this, all he needed to do… was wait.
And wait he did.
Step. Step. Step.
A figure emerged from the foliage, her every step sending out waves that chilled and rattled Delmas to his core.
Delmas tried to turn his head, but only his pupils shifted to the side, just in time to catch sight of the cause behind everything.
Short crimson hair. Crimson eyes that had flushed an even deeper red.
She was clad in a pure white maid uniform, her petite frame making her appear like the most harmless woman alive.
But as Delmas’s gaze landed on her face, his heart stopped.
He couldn’t comprehend it.
In the Sanguine Clan, reaching the Blood Champion rank was already an extraordinary feat, one that earned immense respect, honor, and recognition.
Blood Champions were terrifying beings. Capable of annihilating entire cities, fortresses, or massive territories.
They were comparable to tactical nukes, natural disasters in human form.
But if Blood Champions were already this powerful, then the next rank after them was nothing short of cataclysmic.
Blood Wardens.
Reaching this level unlocked an even deadlier ability: not only the ability to control one’s own blood, but also control over an opponent’s as well.
That control, however, came with a limitation, the Warden had to be of a higher evolutionary stage than their target.
But there was one known, unshakable fact:
No one had ever reached this rank while still in the Synergy stage.
Which could only mean one thing.
‘A Bloom…’
A stage just beneath Zenith. Humanity’s absolute peak.
Blooms could only be described with one phrase: weapons of mass destruction.
They were capable of wiping out entire regions.
A single strike from them could leave a crater spanning several cities.
Their pressure waves alone flattened terrain for miles.
Because of this overwhelming power, every single Bloom inside the dome was documented… and named.
Each name chosen to encapsulate the fear they inspired.
And as Delmas’s eyes stayed locked on the figure, her face briefly contorting and morphing before snapping back to its original state…
‘Red Eclipse… how?…’