Chapter 211: Finally
For a moment after Achilor’s command echoed across the courtyard, no one moved, as if even the air itself had grown heavy with doubt and hesitation, pressing down on every member of the Moonshade Family who stood there with lowered gazes and clenched fists, their confidence eroded by the repeated failures that had come one after another without mercy, until even the strongest among them had been reduced to nothing more than another confirmation of their limits.
Lord Vord let out a slow breath through his nose, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the silent group before him, and though he did not speak his thoughts aloud, the irritation was written plainly across his face, no longer hidden behind courtesy or diplomacy, because what he had seen so far was far from what he had expected when he first sensed their arrival from another plane, and the excitement that had once filled him had now faded into something colder and far more practical.
Elder Achilor stood beside him, his expression calm yet firm, but even that calm now carried a clear edge of disappointment, his gaze resting on the Moonshade Family as if weighing their worth, measuring what could be taken from them and what could be discarded, because in a world where strength dictated everything, sentiment held no value unless it was backed by power.
"They will go next," Achilor said, his voice even, though it lacked the earlier patience he had shown.
The word did not need clarification.
Everyone understood.
The ancestors.
At the back of the Moonshade Family, the ancient ones who had once stood as pillars of their lineage slowly stepped forward, their presence quiet yet commanding, their eyes deep with years that stretched far beyond what most could imagine, yet even among them, there was no certainty, only a shared understanding that what lay ahead would decide everything for their family.
Within Lord Vord’s mind, his thoughts had already begun to settle into a cold conclusion, one that he did not bother to hide from Achilor as he spoke quietly.
"If even they fail, then this family has no future," he said.
Achilor gave a small nod.
"They still have use," he replied. "At least for now."
Lord Vord let out a faint chuckle, though there was no humor in it.
"Yes," he said. "Even weak blood can serve a purpose."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"But once that purpose is gone..."
He did not finish his sentence, but Achilor understood.
There was no need for further explanation.
Both of them had already decided.
If the ancestors failed to show anything worth preserving, then the Moonshade Family would be nothing more than temporary assets, to be used until they had nothing left to offer, and then cast aside without hesitation.
The silence that followed seemed to stretch endlessly, until finally, one of the ancestors stepped forward.
Elder Ghurn.
His figure was old, his body carrying the weight of countless years, his hair pale and thin, his posture slightly bent, yet his presence remained steady, his eyes still holding a quiet strength that had not faded despite the passage of time.
Many among the Moonshade Family turned their gaze toward him, but unlike before, there was no loud cheer, no strong expectation, only a quiet hope that lingered weakly in their chests, fragile and uncertain after everything they had witnessed.
"Elder Ghurn..." someone whispered.
"He will try..."
"That is enough..."
Their voices were low, almost hesitant, as if they no longer dared to expect anything extraordinary.
Ghurn did not respond.
He simply walked forward, each step measured, each movement calm, until he stood before the massive clawed hand that loomed before him like an ancient altar waiting to judge his very essence.
He looked at it for a moment, his gaze steady.
Then he stepped in.
The massive palm accepted him, the runes along its surface flickering faintly as he took his place, sitting down with slow, deliberate movement, as if this moment carried a weight far greater than anything he had faced before.
He raised his hand.
For a brief moment, his fingers trembled, not out of fear, but perhaps from the strain of age, the simple reminder that his body was no longer what it once had been.
Then, without hesitation, he cut his palm.
Blood welled up, dark and rich, carrying the essence of his lineage within it.
It gathered.
Then fell.
The first drop landed.
The first finger lit up.
"Blood Infusion Realm," Achilor stated calmly.
No one reacted.
It was expected.
The blood moved.
The second drop fell.
The second finger lit up.
"Blood Condensation Realm."
Still nothing.
The third drop followed.
The third finger lit up.
"Blood Foundation Realm."
At this point, the Moonshade Family simply watched, their expressions quiet, their expectations still held low, as if they had already accepted that this would end the same way as before.
But then...
The blood did not stop.
It continued.
It gathered again.
And then fell once more.
The fourth finger lit up.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Even Achilor’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"Blood Core Formation Realm," he said.
There was a pause.
A real one.
The first true break in the pattern they had seen so far.
Murmurs began to rise among the surrounding vampires, their earlier disinterest replaced by faint curiosity.
But before that curiosity could fully form...
The blood moved again.
Another drop.
Another fall.
The fifth finger lit up.
This time, the glow was stronger, deeper, the runes reacting more intensely as if acknowledging something far greater than anything before.
Achilor’s voice slowed.
"...Nascent Blood Realm."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
For a brief moment, it felt as if the entire courtyard had frozen.
Then...
"What...?"
"Five fingers...?"
"That level...?"
The murmurs erupted into shock, the surrounding vampires now staring directly at the scene with widened eyes, their earlier indifference completely gone, replaced by genuine surprise.
Even the Emperor level powerhouses seated around the arena straightened slightly, their expressions changing as they focused on the old man sitting within the massive palm.
Within the Moonshade Family, the reaction was even more intense.
They stared.
They blinked.
As if trying to confirm that what they were seeing was real.
Then—
"He reached five...!"
"Elder Ghurn...!"
"That is... that is beyond us...!"
"How... how is this possible...!"
Their voices rose, no longer restrained, filled with disbelief and sudden excitement that burst forth after being held back for so long.
Hope returned.
No.
It did not just return.
It surged.
Cheers erupted from within the Moonshade Family, loud and uncontrollable, their earlier despair completely overturned in an instant as they watched Elder Ghurn step out of the palm, his expression still calm, though his eyes carried a hint of something he himself could not fully understand.
Lord Vord and Achilor looked at each other.
A silent exchange passed between them.
And in that moment, both of them came to the same conclusion.
Their earlier judgment had been premature.
"They are not useless," Lord Vord said quietly, his tone changing completely from before.
Achilor gave a slow nod.
"That level..." he murmured. "Even among our elites, that is considered strong."
Around them, the Emperor level vampires who had been watching from the seats began to murmur among themselves, their gazes now filled with recognition rather than dismissal.
"At least one..."
"That old one... he has potential..."
"Nascent Blood Realm... that is no joke..."
"Even our commanders..."
Their voices carried approval, nods exchanged as they acknowledged that while the Moonshade Family as a whole had disappointed, this single result was enough to change how they were viewed.
Elder Ghurn himself stood there, looking at his own hand as if trying to understand what had just happened.
"In the past..." he muttered quietly to himself, his voice filled with confusion, "my limit was only Blood Foundation..."
His brows furrowed.
"How..."
He could not find the answer.
Because nothing in his past experience could explain such a sudden leap.
Behind him, the Moonshade Family continued to cheer, their spirits lifted, their confidence beginning to rebuild as they clung to this single shining result as proof that they were not completely lacking.
But among them...
One person remained quiet.
Cain.
He stood slightly apart, his gaze fixed on Elder Ghurn, his brows drawn together in a faint frown as his mind worked through the pieces with calm certainty.
He already knew.
From the moment the fourth finger lit up, he had already understood.
And when the fifth followed...
There was no doubt left.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"So that is how it is..." he thought.
His gaze drifted briefly toward Cornelia, then back to Ghurn.
Back then.
That moment.
The blood.
A single drop.
Something so small that no one had paid attention to it.
But to him...
It was enough.
"They absorbed it," Cain thought quietly, his expression unreadable.
Even a trace.
Even the smallest fragment.
It was still his blood.
Overgod blood.
And even diluted, even weakened beyond measure, it still carried a power that this world could not fully comprehend.
He exhaled slowly.
Of course.
Of course it would change something.
Even if only slightly.
Even if only in one person.
Still...
He said nothing.
Not a single word.
Because revealing that truth would only bring unnecessary attention.
And attention...
Was the last thing he needed right now.
So he remained silent, watching as the cheers continued, as the mood shifted, as the fate of the Moonshade Family began to tilt once again, all because of something none of them understood.
And as he stood there, his brows still slightly furrowed, one thought lingered quietly in his mind.
"They got it from that drop..."