Blood God Reborn as the Mudblood Heir

Lucard reached the edge of the roof and dropped to a lower section. An arrow flew past him and struck the chimney behind him. Another arrow cut through the edge of his cloak. He rolled down the slanted tiles, caught a rain gutter, and swung toward the shadow of a balcony.

A Ravencroft guard stepped onto the balcony at that exact moment.

Lucard landed in front of him.

The guard opened his mouth.

Lucard struck his throat with two fingers.

The man collapsed without a sound.

Lucard did not stop to absorb him. There was no time.

From inside the hall, Garran’s voice thundered.

"Find the intruder."

Flames rose from the western building.

Lucard jumped from the balcony to the garden wall. His feet touched the stone, then pushed off again. He crossed over the dead shrubs, reached the outer wall, and vanished into the night beyond Black Raven Manor.

Behind him, House Ravencroft erupted into chaos. Torches moved everywhere. Guards shouted. Mages searched the roof.

Garran Velkhur stood in the long hall, staring at the cracked high window with burning eyes.

Outside the estate, Lucard landed in a narrow alley and pulled his cloak around himself.

His face was calm, but his eyes had become sharper. He could not stay near the manor anymore. He had what he needed.

Now he had to return before the city closed its teeth around him.

He moved through the narrow alleys behind Black Raven Manor and stopped only after the sound of shouting became distant. He stood in the shadow between two old stone houses and listened. His breathing was calm, but his eyes were colder than before. Behind him, Ravencroft guards were still searching roofs and gardens. Their torches moved like restless insects in the dark.

Lucard looked back once.

"That old man is good," he whispered.

Garran Velkhur had sensed him from only a tiny flicker of mana. It had lasted less than a breath. Most mages would have missed it. Even many Fourth Circle mages would have thought it was only the movement of air, a weak servant nearby, or some old mana left in the building. But Garran had turned his head at once.

That meant his battle senses were sharp.

Lucard did not like that.

If he had been only a second late, the outcome would have been bad. The Flame Eye had not been a strong killing spell, but it was fast and accurate. Its real purpose was not to kill him. It was to mark him. If that fire eye had touched his body or blood, Garran might have locked onto his presence. After that, Blood Concealment would not have helped much. A Fifth Circle fire battle mage with a locked target was not something Lucard could ignore with his current power.

He looked at his palm. His blood moved quietly under his skin.

Only one step away from the Second Blood Circle. It wasn’t enough.

Lucard’s face became calm again. He knew his own weakness clearly. He could kill Dorian because Dorian was arrogant, injured, distracted, and too confident. Dorian looked away from him at the wrong time. Lucard had prepared his attack in silence and struck before Dorian understood the danger.

That trick would not work on Garran.

Garran was old. He was dirty. He was experienced. A man who had defeated Robi Marovain for years with tricks would not be easy to trick in the same simple way. He would not turn his back on a wounded enemy. He would not stand close without protection. He would not laugh so long that his heart became open.

Lucard could not kill him like he killed his grandson.

Not yet.

"With my current power, I cannot defeat him."

The words did not anger him.

They only became a fact.

A weak man who did not know he was weak would die quickly. Lucard had never been that kind of fool. Pride was useful only when backed by calculation. His pride told him he would one day stand above this whole lower world. His calculation told him that today, a Fifth Circle mage could burn him into ash if he fought directly.

So he had to be careful.

Very careful.

Lucard stepped out of the alley and moved through another side street. The sky above Gravehold had turned dark blue. Lamps burned in front of inns and shops. People still whispered near doors, but no one looked at him properly because Blood Concealment covered his presence. He walked past two city guards and heard them talking about the commotion at Black Raven Manor. That meant the search had already started spreading.

He needed to move before Ravencroft’s men tightened the city. He needed to meet Robi Marovain.

A plan had already formed in his mind.

Garran wanted Robi to come to House Ravencroft. He wanted to turn the explanation meeting into a trap. He believed Robi had planned Dorian’s death. He believed Robi had used Lucard to take revenge for old humiliation. That belief was stupid, but useful.

Lucard would not correct it.

He would sharpen it.

If Garran and Robi fought, the matter would become larger. House Velkhur and House Marovain would have to focus on each other. Robi was also a Fifth Circle mage. Garran could not simply crush him in one breath. They were old rivals. Old anger already stood between them. Lucard only needed to push the right place.

Robi wanted the spell. He wanted Lucard’s secret. He owed him millions of gold coins.

That debt was a chain.

Lucard would pull that chain now.

He walked toward the Marovain shop, but not by the main street. He used back roads and merchant alleys. The shop would be heavily guarded after Dorian’s death. The front entrance might already be watched by Velkhur spies or Ravencroft men. Robi might also be receiving messages from the city lord, merchants, or Marovain couriers. That was good. A busy man made faster decisions when fear and profit stood together.

Lucard needed to reach him before Ravencroft’s invitation shaped the whole situation.

He needed to tell Robi what Garran planned.

Not for free.

Never for free.

Information was also blood in another form. It fed power if used correctly.

Lucard stopped on the roof of a low warehouse opposite the Marovain shop. From there, he could see the branch building clearly. The front was repaired only partly. Guards stood near the damaged stones. Workers had covered the broken statue with cloth. The blood on the street had been washed, but the stain remained faint under the lamplight.

The place looked quiet.

Too quiet.

Lucard smiled faintly.

"Robi Marovain," he said under his breath. "Let us see how much your life is worth to you."

Then he dropped from the warehouse roof into the shadowed alley below.

He needed to enter the Marovain shop. He needed to meet Robi. And he needed to make one old fox fight another.