Habs woke with a start from his throne.
In his consciousness, a message rippled across the usually placid River of Blood, a summons from the Azure King, Renard.
Ever since the Holy River had fallen silent, the Great Lords and Princes rarely used this most ancient method to communicate, for the River of Blood often did not respond, unable to stir even the slightest ripple, thus preventing any communication.
Habs felt a peculiar unease, but the Azure King’s territory was a continent away from Twilight. Without further ado, he responded and made his way to the grand hall’s entrance.
Suddenly, he halted, his figure flickered, and he vanished, reappearing in the long corridor on the seventh floor underground of the clan castle.
The corridor still bore its ancient sandstone walls, narrow yet extremely high, ending in a pair of bronze doors engraved with ancient runes.
A man stood before the doors, without any aura of a mighty being, appearing as ordinary as any other.
But it was impossible for him to be just an ordinary person. The subterranean levels of the vampire clan castles were filled with various blood pools and altars, especially those of the Twelve Ancient Clans, whose regional pressure made it impossible for newborns to linger alone.
The Emperor of Demons heard a voice but did not turn around, still standing in place, slightly tilting his head towards the imposing gates. He had been standing there for a long time, ultimately not reaching out to push open the doors.
Habs slowly walked down the corridor.
Though a vampire in his own clan castle held the home ground advantage, for the Emperor of Demons, it was merely a minor hindrance. At this point, there was no safe distance, not even in the entire castle.
“Your Majesty, the Emperor of Demons, I am honored by your presence.”
“I’m just here to see him.”
Habs fell silent, and the Emperor said no more, nor moved. The two stood like statues, separated by ten meters, before the bronze doors.
After a long while, the doors creaked open, revealing an endless darkness.
The Emperor showed no intention of entering, only casting his gaze inside. In his eyes, that impenetrable darkness was a richly layered world of energy, a small world belonging to the Dark Primordial Flame.
At this moment, those flames, darker than the blackest night and colder than the coldest frost, confined a faint glow, like icebergs on an eternally frozen land.
The Emperor could discern the source of the faint light as four floating primordial crystals, one of which had a blurred edge, seemingly cracked.
Gradually, the faint light seemed to take shape, vaguely resembling a human form, half-cross-legged, left hand resting on the knee, right hand holding a spear slanted against the ground. Occasionally, starlight would spill from the chest area, circling and disappearing behind.
Occasionally, a speck of light would detach and drift into the deep darkness, flickering until it vanished.
The Emperor gazed quietly, showing no emotion, but suddenly, a ripple appeared on his calm face. He turned and asked, “His origin has completely dissipated?”
Habs, who had been lost in thought, looked up, a look of surprise flashing across his face, clearly unsure why the Emperor asked such a question.
The Emperor observed Habs’ reaction but did not inquire further, his figure vanishing from the spot.
Habs frowned, glanced back at the world of the Dark Primordial Flame, and followed. Behind him, the bronze doors slowly closed.
The Emperor stood in the void above the Specker clan castle, deep in thought. Seeing Habs appear, the Emperor raised his hand, and a drop of pure, highly concentrated Dark Primordial Force appeared between them.
The Emperor said, “You possess the darkest flame in this world, closer to the origin of darkness than any other blood force. It is said that the last Fire Crown’s blood mark had some issues; not because the power wasn’t strong enough, but because it needed to devour kin to become purer.”
Habs listened quietly, showing no panic even when the Emperor mentioned what should have been a vampiric secret.
The Emperor continued, “I can give you a segment of the dark law. With your abilities, you can greatly shorten the time needed to purify your power.”
Habs replied calmly, “I appreciate your kindness, but I am satisfied with the power I currently possess.”
The Emperor, undeterred by the refusal, did not press further, “In that case, Habs, as a member of the Council, you must take responsibility.”
At that moment, Habs felt an ominous premonition, but in the Emperor’s presence, he had no mind to explore the unknown source of his unease.
He frowned, dispelling the distracting thoughts, and answered, “I have never refused a Council mission.”
The Emperor said, “On the Borderland Continent, there is a Council laboratory near the human border. It is scheduled for cleanup. Markel will brief you on the details.”
Habs could not control himself; his blood core throbbed violently at the mention of the familiar location.
The Emperor, seemingly oblivious, continued, “As for his remains, they seem to have a problem. Even in the eternal freeze of the Dark Primordial Flame, they are slowly disintegrating. We do not have exact data on the state of fallen human Emperors, but human generals are definitely not like this.”
Pausing, the Emperor added, “Sometimes, I recall things he once said. Perhaps our world cannot retain him, and his true destiny lies beyond.”
Habs did not fully understand the Emperor’s words and remained silent, unsure how to respond.
The Emperor released an irregular gray crystal, floating alongside the drop of Dark Primordial Force.
The Emperor said, “You can manipulate small worlds, so you should know how to use this shadow fragment.” With a nod, he bid farewell, took a step, and vanished into the void.
In the void at the edge of the Twilight Continent, the Speaker, accompanied by several followers, awaited.
“Dear Markel, investigate any anomalies in the human forces on the floating continent when Lin Xitang fell.”
The statement was somewhat disjointed, and the Speaker asked, “Your Majesty, what kind of anomalies…?”
The Emperor replied, “I only have a bad feeling.”
One does not ignore the Emperor’s premonitions. The Speaker considered and said, “I understand. We will start with their general-level strongmen, then work our way down.”
With that, they all disappeared into the void.
Above the Specker clan castle, Habs observed the two objects before him.
The gray crystal appeared unremarkable, but a touch with the primordial force revealed an inner world. Its properties were unique, belonging to the spectrum of spider demons’ dark powers, but upon closer inspection, it gave a sense of being in a mirror world.
Habs had heard of this: in ancient times, the great shadow world of the spider demons had shattered, forming shadow fragments that were sacred relics in the underground markets. He wondered where the Emperor had obtained one.
The eternal freeze of the Dark Primordial Flame could solidify space and almost time, but not entirely, thus failing to stop Lin Xitang’s remains from disintegrating. This process was extremely slow, perhaps taking centuries to dissipate a single primordial crystal.
Adding the shadow fragment changed everything. Its foundational rules belonged to the world’s underside, capable of sealing off the matter of the surface world.
Without further thought, Habs reached out, picked up the shadow fragment, and stored it. Then, he gently touched the drop of Dark Primordial Force, and the Emperor’s aura gently dispersed, revealing an image.
A young-looking human gazed toward them, his black hair slightly disheveled, with a forest as the backdrop.
Looking into his eyes, one could see that the youth was not as young as he appeared, his irises swirling with nebulae, reflecting the cosmos.
“The stars beyond our world are vast and beautiful, and I still see no end to them.”
“In my world, the boundary is six decades, a full cycle of the Chinese zodiac.”
“For short-lived beings, it is still longer than the life of most commoners, sufficient to do many things I wish to do.”
“Yes, so I cannot explore with you…”
The image cut off, the drop of Dark Primordial Force diluting into mist and dispersing.
This was a memory of the Emperor, about Lin Xitang.
Yet, the man who smiled lightly, almost coldly, did not live to complete a full cycle.
Habs composed himself, gazing over the traditional vampire territory below. Everything seemed normal, but he could not forget the sudden sense of strangeness.
Habs sank his senses into the River of Blood, its surface calm and still, like a mirror. The message from the Azure King had long faded. His senses extended to the source, twelve blood marks gradually appearing, floating and flickering.
The Azure King’s mark was not the brightest, as it was not his active period. After a while, Habs could not determine if the mark was abnormal. He decided to check the location of the Azure King’s message.
Upon arriving at the secret realm, Habs found the Azure King’s ancient castle reduced to ruins. The valley’s terrain had changed, filled with lingering Dawn Primordial Force. Even Habs found no valuable clues.
Only a thread of purple-black blood qi pointed in a direction, a mark left by the Shadowless King, Medanzo.
Habs stood in the air, looking down at the ruins, his eyes narrowing. After a moment, he glanced in the direction of the mark left by the Shadowless King, but did not follow it, instead returning directly to Twilight.
The Black Sun Valley was no longer a battleground, with both the Empire and Evernight constructing fortresses. Despite the proximity, each worked independently, avoiding interference. Their patrol units maintained a distance, eliminating the chance of accidental clashes.
However, the scale of the fortresses indicated that peace was temporary.
The Evernight fortress was already massive, and now it was expanding further. After experiencing the Imperial Guard Fleet’s overwhelming pressure, the Evernight Council, in pain and reflection, began adding anti-air firepower. Anti-air towers sprang up like stone forests, daunting even the strongest fleets.
The Empire, unwilling to be outdone, built new fortresses with no fewer anti-air towers. Given their air superiority, the Empire focused on rapid-fire cannons and anti-strongman ballistae.
Thus, both sides, targeting each other’s strengths and weaknesses, built up their defenses, ready for a potential conflict.
Inside the fortress, Song Zining was the most relaxed. Each day, he only read battle reports. From his window, he saw the black fire column diminishing, soon to disappear entirely.
According to the agreement, the next conflict would begin when the black fire vanished.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, urgent and quick.
Song Zining opened the door, surprised. “General Zhang, why are you here?”
Zhang Zao, travel-weary and exhausted, immediately knelt. “Commander Song, please save me!”
Song Zining hurriedly helped him up, “Rise, what is so grave?”
As he helped him, Song Zining noticed, “You’re injured?”
Zhang Zao replied, “A minor injury, nothing serious. I have no choice but to come here for your counsel.”
“Sit and speak,” Song Zining helped him sit, then sat himself, waiting for more.
Zhang Zao said, “The Duke sent a thousand elite soldiers and dozens of strongmen to secretly infiltrate Yonglu and await your arrival. However, we were ambushed as soon as we entered Yonglu. Only a few of us managed to escape, the rest, well…”
Song Zining asked, “These are the Duke’s elites, right?”
“Most were his former personal guards, trained by him. The entire unit numbered three thousand, and we lost a third in one go.”
“If they were so elite, how did only a few escape?”
Zhang Zao, now calmer, explained, “It was sudden. We were surrounded as soon as we disembarked, and they outnumbered us. There was even a Duke among them! Yang, our commander, was seriously injured and had to retreat, his fate unknown.”
Song Zining nodded, “It seems the information was leaked. What do you want me to do?”
Zhang Zao said, “The only way to salvage this is for you to personally reclaim the Hall of Heroes. I’ve learned it has returned to Bibo City and is stationed outside.”
Song Zining paced, patting Zhang Zao’s shoulder, “General Zhang, you seem confused. My duty is to guard the Black Sun Valley, a heavy responsibility. How can I leave? Your failure to complete the mission is your concern, not mine. You are a mere general, even if you were a general, what difference would it make? Would you still be worth my attention?”
Zhang Zao, shocked, asked, “Commander, what do you mean?”
“I wanted you to realize that your escape was not due to your skill, but my leniency. You dared not face the Duke, so you came to me. Now, rest here. Soon, your injuries will relapse, and your time will be short.”
Zhang Zao, even more shocked, realized, “You, it was you!”
Before he could finish, he coughed up blood, collapsing. He recalled Song Zining’s pats, understanding too late.
Song Zining opened the door, calling, “Guards! General Zhang’s injuries have relapsed, get medical help!”
Several guards rushed in, carrying Zhang Zao out.
Moments later, a guard returned, “Sir, General Zhang’s injuries were too severe; he has passed away.”
Song Zining asked, “Did he say anything before he died?”
“General Zhang was incoherent, only repeating, ‘Wolves, so many wolves!’ Nothing else.”
Song Zining said, “General Zhang traveled far, with a crucial mission. Sadly, he died before he could speak. This is a serious matter. Report everything to the military, no omissions. Understood?”
The guard obeyed, leaving to carry out the order.
Alone, Song Zining sighed, knowing one more worry was settled. Next, he awaited detailed reports from Yonglu and the military’s response.
Zhang Zao was utterly incompetent, a poor negotiator. Song Zining wished for a smarter envoy next time.
Since the Empire’s Emperor broke through the Heavenly Gate, he only led from the rear. Those so-called loyalists, if they were his original guards, would be at least seventy or eighty years old, too old to wield swords. If they were new recruits, they would be ceremonial guards, with a limit of fifteen hundred. A newly retired Marshal like the Qingyang Duke had a complete elite division, with a light guard battalion of two thousand. Counting the number of veterans, a private army of three thousand was barely assembled. If they were former imperial guards, losing a thousand in Yonglu would be a fascinating and shocking event.
Song Zining was not in a hurry to uncover the truth. He was in a good position, with enemies bringing themselves to him, saving him the trouble of investigation. Meanwhile, the upper lands of the Wolf People seemed restless. The title of Emperor, whether real or fake, would serve him well.
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