Chapter 238: Interesting Vampires
For a moment, no one understood what they were seeing.
Not even the Moonshade family themselves.
Elder Rivik’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the bodies around him, bodies that had been his subordinates, his blood slaves, his Blood Knights, those who had sworn loyalty under the old structure of their clan, now changing in a way that no one had ever witnessed before.
"W... what is this...?"
His voice came out hoarse, barely forming words as his gaze darted from one figure to another.
Elder Zenaya was no better.
Her usually composed expression broke apart, her lips parting in disbelief as she watched the same scene unfold, her sharp eyes scanning every detail, trying to find logic, trying to find understanding, yet finding nothing but something that defied everything she knew.
"...Their skin..."
"...It’s changing..."
"...No..."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"...That’s not just a change..."
"...That’s... evolution..."
Around them, the aristocratic members of the Moonshade family stood frozen, their earlier pride, their earlier composure shattered completely as they witnessed their own Blood Slaves, those who were beneath them, those who were meant to serve, now undergoing something that felt far beyond their comprehension.
The ten ancestors, including Ghurn, stared in silence.
Even Ghurn, who had shown resilience earlier, who had shocked everyone with his lineage, now looked completely stunned, his eyes locked on the transformation as if he was seeing something that even his long life had never prepared him for.
"...Impossible..."
"...This... is impossible..."
One of the elders whispered, his voice breaking.
"...Blood Slaves... don’t... change like this..."
"...They don’t... grow like this..."
"...They don’t... become this..."
Their voices overlapped, filled with disbelief, fear, confusion, and something deeper, something they did not want to admit.
Because what they were seeing—
Was not just growth.
It was a reversal.
A breaking of hierarchy.
And Cain—
Stood there.
Watching.
His eyes narrowed slightly, his mind racing far faster than anyone else in that arena.
"...Wait..."
"...This..."
"...This feels familiar..."
His gaze locked onto the reddening skin, onto the surge of blood energy rising from within those members, onto the way their veins seemed to pulse with a deeper, heavier presence than before.
"...Did I..."
"...No..."
"...That couldn’t be..."
But then—
The memory came.
Clear.
Sharp.
The moment he had used it.
The moment he had done something that even he had not fully paid attention to afterward.
"...Blood Moon..."
His eyes widened slightly.
"...Back then..."
"...I used it on them..."
"...I altered their blood..."
"...I forced a change..."
A realization formed.
Slow.
But undeniable.
"...Did this bastard..."
"...Awakened then again...?"
For the first time since this entire situation began—
Cain felt genuine shock.
Because if that was true—
Then what he had done back then—
Was far more significant than he had ever considered.
And in front of him—
The change continued.
The Moonshade family members who were not part of the aristocracy—
Those who had been beneath—
Those who had been Blood Slaves—
Those who had been Blood Knights—
Their skin turned completely red.
Not faint.
Not partial.
But fully.
A deep, vampiric crimson that spread across their entire bodies, their veins glowing faintly beneath, their blood surging violently as if it had awakened to something new, something ancient, something that had been dormant until now.
And their faces—
Changed.
Their expressions twisted.
Their eyes widened.
Their pupils sharpened.
And then—
They roared.
Not softly.
Not hesitantly.
But wildly.
Loud.
Unrestrained.
Like beasts that had been unleashed from a cage that they did not even know existed before.
"RAAAAH—!"
"GRRRAAAH—!"
"AAAAAH—!"
The sound filled the arena, raw and chaotic, carrying a ferocity that was completely different from the cries of fear earlier.
This was not fear.
This was rage.
Pure.
Unfiltered.
Uncontrolled.
Their bodies trembled violently, muscles tightening, blood surging through them as if it was boiling, their minds consumed by something that erased calm, erased order, leaving only instinct, only aggression, only the urge to fight, to tear, to resist.
"...They’re... losing control..."
"...No..."
"...This is not losing control..."
"...This is... awakening..."
Zenaya whispered, her eyes shaking.
Because what she saw—
Was not madness.
It was something deeper.
Something primal.
Something that should not have been possible for those at their level.
For a long moment—
The chaos continued.
The roars.
The trembling.
The surge of blood energy filling the air.
And then—
Slowly—
They calmed.
Not completely.
Not fully.
But enough.
Their breathing remained heavy.
Their eyes still glowed faintly with that same crimson intensity.
Their bodies still radiated a presence that was far stronger than before.
But they were no longer roaring.
No longer thrashing.
They stood there—
Panting.
Alive.
Changed.
And above them—
GrandLord Dreath watched everything.
Silently.
Carefully.
His eyes no longer held amusement.
No longer held curiosity alone.
Now—
They held interest.
Real interest.
"...So..."
He finally spoke.
His voice calm, yet carrying that same weight that made everyone listen whether they wanted to or not.
"...You old vampires..."
His gaze shifted toward Lord Vord and Elder Achilor, both of whom were still recovering from the earlier pressure, their bodies trembling slightly as they tried to gather themselves.
"...Who are these?"
The question was simple.
But the meaning behind it—
Was not.
Lord Vord swallowed, his throat dry, his voice still strained as he forced himself to answer.
"...They..."
"...They are from another plane..."
Elder Achilor continued, his tone more controlled despite the fatigue.
"...A group that arrived recently..."
"...Their bloodline... is unusual..."
"...Their leaders..."
He paused briefly.
Then nodded toward the three cocoons.
"...are inside those."
GrandLord Dreath followed the direction.
His eyes landed on the three cocoons where Ivira, Cornelia, and Faith were encased, surrounded by the remnants of the earlier phenomenon, their forms hidden yet radiating something that even he could not fully ignore.
"...I see..."
He studied them for a moment.
Then—
He looked back.
At the Moonshade family.
At the reddened ones.
"...Interesting..."
The word came out slowly.
"...Very interesting..."
His gaze lingered on them, examining the change, the reaction, the way their blood responded not just to pressure, but to something deeper.
"...These ones..."
"...were not fully suppressed by my blood pressure..."
His voice carried a hint of appreciation now.
"...And now..."
"...they have changed."
He tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing something in his mind.
"...Their bloodline..."
"...is not weaker than mine..."
The statement—
Shocked everyone.
Even Lord Vord.
Even Elder Achilor.
Because for someone like Dreath to say that—
Meant something far beyond simple praise.
"...And those three..."
His eyes flicked toward the cocoons again.
"...are likely... higher."
Silence.
Heavy.
Absolute.
And then—
The Moonshade family—
Moved.
Not calmly.
Not respectfully.
But violently.
The reddened members turned their heads—
Toward Dreath.
Their eyes burned.
Their breathing heavy.
Their bodies trembling again, not from pressure this time, but from something else.
Something aggressive.
Something uncontrollable.
And then—
They roared.
Not in fear.
But in challenge.
"RAAAAH—!"
Their voices shook the air, filled with raw hostility, as if the existence of Dreath himself provoked something deep within them, something that refused to bow, refused to submit.
And Dreath—
Laughed.
"...Oh?"
The sound was amused.
Light.
Mocking.
"...Rebellious, are we?"
His lips curved slightly.
"...Good."
"...I prefer that."
And then—
He released it again.
The pressure.
But this time—
It was different.
Not wide.
Not scattered.
But directed.
Focused.
Like a crushing hand descending upon them once more.
The air thickened instantly.
The ground trembled again.
The force pressed down—
Hard.
And the reddened members—
Reacted.
They resisted.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Their bodies trembled violently.
Their muscles strained.
Their blood surged.
Their eyes burned with defiance as they pushed against the weight, refusing to collapse completely, refusing to submit without struggle.
"GRAAAH—!"
Their roars echoed again, filled with fury, filled with resistance, filled with something that even Dreath could not ignore now.
"...Still resisting..."
He murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"...Even now..."
The pressure increased.
Again.
And again.
But so did their resistance.
Again.
And again.
Their bodies shook.
Their breaths grew heavier.
Their movements slower.
But they did not give in immediately.
They pushed.
They endured.
They fought.
And then—
One of them moved.
Not slightly.
Not faintly.
But clearly.
A leg bent.
A body shifted.
And then—
With a roar—
One of the reddened members—
Leaped.
Straight toward GrandLord Dreath.