Chapter 213: Something Amiss
The word hung in the air like a quiet command that no one dared to ignore, and as the echoes of celebration from the previous result slowly faded, the Moonshade Family found themselves holding their breath once again, caught between hope and fear, because now the expectations had risen, and with that rise came a new kind of pressure that weighed on every single one of them.
Another ancestor stepped forward.
He moved slower than the others, his body slightly hunched, his long years evident in the careful way he placed each step upon the ground, yet there was no hesitation in his eyes, only a calm acceptance that whatever was about to be revealed would be the truth of his blood, and nothing more.
Behind him, whispers began to stir again, softer this time, filled with uncertainty rather than excitement.
"Do you think..."
"Another one like them...?"
"That cannot be..."
"It already happened twice..."
Their voices carried doubt, because even with what they had just witnessed, the idea of it happening again felt too much, too strange, as if the world itself would not allow such a thing to repeat so easily.
Cain stood among them, his arms crossed loosely, his gaze steady as he watched the old ancestor approach the massive clawed palm, his expression calm on the surface, yet inside, his thoughts moved far deeper.
Of course.
It is happening again.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he followed every movement, every drop of blood that was about to fall, because he already knew the answer, even before the test began.
They consumed it.
A trace amount.
Barely anything.
But for beings like them, even a fragment was enough.
His lips pressed together as he kept his thoughts contained, his face showing nothing that would give away what he knew, because this was not something he could speak out loud, not here, not in front of these people, not when the consequences could spiral into something far more complicated.
The old ancestor reached the palm.
He sat down slowly, adjusting himself as the ancient runes beneath him flickered to life once more, their glow steady and unwavering as they prepared to reveal what lay within his blood.
A deep breath.
A small cut.
And the first drop fell.
One finger lit up.
No reaction.
The second drop followed.
Two fingers.
Still, silence.
The third.
Three fingers.
A few murmurs began to rise.
"Three..."
"Already..."
"That is not low..."
The fourth drop fell.
Four fingers.
Now the murmurs grew louder, tension building once again, because the pattern was becoming familiar, dangerously familiar.
And then—
The fifth drop fell.
The fifth finger lit up.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Not because they did not want to.
But because they could not.
"What...?"
Another one...?
The words struggled to form, caught between disbelief and realization, as the scene before them repeated itself once again, as if the same result had been copied and placed before them for a third time.
The courtyard erupted.
"This is impossible...!"
"Three... three Nascent Blood talents...?!"
"In the same family...?!"
"How is this even possible...?!"
Even the Emperor level vampires could no longer maintain their composure, their voices rising as they leaned forward, their eyes locked onto the glowing fingers that confirmed what they were seeing.
Lord Vord’s expression froze for a brief moment before a slow grin spread across his face, one that carried both excitement and disbelief.
Elder Achilor, on the other hand, remained silent, though the intensity in his gaze deepened as he watched the third ancestor step down from the palm.
"This..." Achilor murmured quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "This is no longer coincidence."
Beside him, Lord Vord let out a low laugh, though there was a sharp edge beneath it.
"No," he said. "It is not."
Within the Moonshade Family, the reaction was overwhelming, their earlier pride now turning into something far greater, something that pushed away the fear that had been creeping into their hearts.
"Another one...!"
"We have three...!"
"Our lineage...!"
"It is not weak...!"
Voices overlapped, emotions spilling out as they looked at their ancestors with awe, because what had once seemed like a desperate situation had now turned into something that even the powerful beings around them could not ignore.
The third ancestor stood there in silence, his expression filled with confusion, much like Ghurn and Vic before him, as if he could not understand how his blood had reached such a level.
"I... never..." he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling slightly, not from fear, but from disbelief at what had just been revealed.
Cain exhaled quietly, his gaze lowering for a brief moment.
Three.
That confirms it.
His fingers tightened slightly.
This is not random.
It is spreading.
Even a small trace...
His thoughts stopped there, cut off by his own will, because the last thing he needed was for those thoughts to leak out in front of people who could hear far more than they should.
"Next," Lord Vord said again, his voice stronger now, filled with a growing interest that he no longer bothered to hide.
Another ancestor stepped forward.
This time, the tension was different.
There was no longer simple doubt.
There was expectation.
Hope.
And fear.
Because if it happened again...
Then something was truly wrong.
Or perhaps...
Something was very, very right.
The fourth ancestor moved with a firmer step than the previous ones, as if the results of those before him had given him a sense of confidence, though his eyes still carried a hint of nervousness as he approached the massive palm.
Behind him, the Moonshade Family watched in silence, their hands clenched, their breaths held, as they waited for the result that could either confirm or break the strange pattern that had begun to form.
He sat down.
Cut his palm.
The blood fell.
One finger.
Two.
Three.
Four.
The pattern continued without interruption, each drop falling with a rhythm that made the air feel heavier with every passing second.
And then—
The fifth.
It lit up.
Again.
The silence that followed was no longer filled with confusion.
It was filled with shock that had reached its limit.
"This is insane...!"
"Four...!"
"Four of them...!"
"Is this even real...?!"
Even those who had remained composed until now could not hold back their reactions, their voices rising as they tried to grasp what was unfolding before them.
Lord Vord’s laughter rang out, louder this time, his excitement clear as he looked at Achilor.
"Now this," he said, "is interesting."
Achilor did not laugh, but there was no denying the intensity in his eyes as he watched the fourth ancestor step down.
"This level of consistency..." he said slowly. "It should not exist."
The Moonshade Family could barely contain themselves now, their emotions overflowing as they looked at one another, their earlier fear completely gone, replaced by a powerful sense of pride that surged through them like a wave.
"We have four...!"
"Four ancestors...!"
"Our bloodline...!"
"It is not ordinary...!"
Their voices echoed across the courtyard, filled with a confidence that had been absent not long ago.
Cain remained silent.
But inside, his thoughts were far from calm.
This is getting out of hand.
His gaze hardened slightly.
If this continues...
They will start asking questions.
And those questions...
Will not be easy to answer.
Lord Vord raised his hand once more, his expression now fully focused, no longer casual, no longer dismissive, but filled with a clear intent to see this through.
"One more," he said.
His voice carried a weight that silenced the crowd almost instantly.
"The next one."
The fifth ancestor stepped forward.
He was the oldest among them, his movements slower, his body weaker, yet there was something steady in his eyes, something that did not waver despite the overwhelming attention now focused on him.
The Moonshade Family fell silent.
No cheers.
No whispers.
Only silence.
Because now, this moment felt different.
This was no longer just a test.
It was a confirmation.
Or a breaking point.
The old ancestor reached the palm.
Sat down.
And for a brief moment, he closed his eyes, as if gathering what little strength he had left.
Then he opened them.
Cut his palm.
And let the blood fall.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
The pattern continued, each drop landing with a weight that seemed heavier than before, as if the world itself was watching, waiting for what would come next.
And then—
The fifth drop fell.
The fifth finger lit up.
Exactly the same.
Exactly the same.
Exactly the same.
No one spoke.
Because now, there were no words left to say.
Only the truth that stood before them.
Five ancestors.
Five results.
All the same.
And in that moment, something deep within the gathered vampires stirred, because what they were witnessing was no longer something that could be dismissed as luck or coincidence.
It was something far greater.
And far more dangerous.