Lilith
Enoch Mansion, Enoch estate
Thornhill, Vanker Island
Northern Isles
Kingdom of Ashtarium
North American continent
December 6th 6414
As Aeternum tried to transmit the information about Laplace into my mind, a sharp jolt of resistance surged through the Library. It felt like a psychic backlash—something blocking the knowledge from taking root. Not just a rejection—more like a metaphysical barrier snapping shut the moment contact was made.
A thin stream of blood trickled from my nose, splattering softly onto the floor. Aeternum materialized in a silhouette of radiant light, its ethereal form flickering into a more solid presence.
"What the hell?" I muttered, pressing my hand against my nose. I could already feel the tissue knitting itself back together.
"It appears that even with your recent advancement, certain restrictions remain in place," Aeternum said, its voice calm but curious. "I had hoped you might have gained clearance to access more of the data in my repertoire."
"Wait—you're telling me that just like the sealed weapons, there are books in here I can't even read?" I asked, casting a Tier One water spell with a flick of my fingers. The blood vanished in a clean sweep of magic.
"It seems so," Aeternum replied evenly.
"Then how the hell am I supposed to learn about Laplace?" I snapped, frustration crackling through my voice. Anger surged in my chest, tension rippling through every muscle as I fought to keep it contained. Images of Jen flooded my mind, unbidden and overwhelming. My emotions were running wild—too wild to suppress easily.
Now that I was a fully Awakened Kain Vampire, everything about me—my strength, my senses, my emotions—had been amplified tenfold. And that included the fury bubbling beneath the surface.
"You could ask Ariella," Aeternum suggested calmly.
I blinked. "What does Ella have to do with Laplace?"
"She's well-versed in the history of Balthazar Morningstar," Aeternum said.
"You mean the one who created you?" I asked, trying to refocus. "The... uh, father of cultivation. What does he have to do with Laplace?"
Aeternum's glow pulsed faintly. "Everything."
"I don't want to involve Ella in this," I said quietly, turning away. I reached for a book on one of the nearby shelves and flipped it open, probing its contents with a light mental scan. Nothing resisted me. No backlash. No barrier. It was just a mundane text—one I had access to. I sighed and placed it back on the shelf.
"Take me to the Simulation Room," I muttered. "A battle might help me clear my head."
"As you wish," Aeternum replied, its voice low and resonant.
The pocket dimension shimmered into place around me, and I spent the next few hours submerged in battle simulations—testing, adapting, learning to manage the surging strength of my newly Awakened Kain Vampire body. Every movement felt heavier, sharper, more instinctive. I had to retrain my body not to overreact. Not to break everything I touched.
By the time I finished, my limbs ached—not from fatigue, but from restraint. I used the facility's cleansing chamber to wash away the blood and sweat, letting the scalding water ground me.
Once back in the physical world, I allowed my internal senses to unfurl through the Enoch mansion like a net of fine threads. I carefully controlled the mental energy within me, not letting it flare too far. My star core had evolved since my Awakening—more rings had formed around it, stabilizing and deepening its radiance. Stronger. More efficient.
I swept the grounds with my mind.
Sanders was in the reading room, immersed in something scholarly. Hector, as always, was tending to chores. Ariella—
I froze.
There was someone else with her. A presence I hadn't sensed before. A resonance that didn't belong in the mansion. Eduardo Gomez. What the hell was he doing here?
As I stepped out of my room, I caught sight of Ella and Eduardo descending the grand staircase. Ella froze the moment our eyes met, her expression flickering with surprise—maybe even concern. My gaze swept over her, and I noticed the glow beneath her skin—her soul core had reached its saturation point, pulsing with spirit essence. She was on the verge of breaking through to the next realm. Impressive... and dangerous, if disrupted.
Then my eyes locked with Eduardo's. He stiffened at the sight of me, his composure faltering for just a second.
"Eduardo," I said flatly.
"Lilith," he replied, voice tight.
"How did you get here? And what exactly are you doing in my home?" I asked, stepping forward. Thankfully, I'd burned off most of the excess rage during the simulations, or his sudden presence might have triggered something far worse.
Eduardo didn't flinch. He held his ground.
"I've come to the North to offer my aid to the true queen of Ashtarium," he said without hesitation. My eyes narrowed. He was serious and bold. Too bold.
"Something's different about you," I murmured, studying him more closely. "You're not the same."
"It's been two years since we last saw each other," he said with a half-smile. "People change."
"Not vampires. Not in such a short time," I replied, tone cool. "Your kind doesn't evolve like that—unless something happened to push it."
"Seems more like our kind than just mine," Eduardo met my gaze evenly. "And looks like you've also changed as well. An Ascendant Vampire now, huh, Lilith?"
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
Ella stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Lil, Eduardo's been through a lot. Maybe we should—"
Ella hesitated, her words caught in her throat as her attention shifted. She turned toward the staircase just as Hector appeared, ascending with his usual quiet poise. His gaze swept across each of us—me, Ella, Eduardo—measuring the tension in the air. Then he cleared his throat.
"Master Sanders would like to see you all," he said calmly.
Without a word, we followed him. The reading room was larger than I remembered—spacious, cathedral-like, with high ceilings and towering shelves lined with tomes, scrolls, and ancient codices. Soft light filtered in from arched windows, bathing the space in a golden glow. The air smelled faintly of aged paper and mana ink. I hadn't truly noticed it before, but the enchantments woven into the walls and shelves hummed with subtle power. Protective wards. Preservation runes. Even dimensional seals.
In truth, this room might have surpassed the library within Aeternum's pocket dimension—at least in terms of scale and arcane safeguarding.
"The Kain Bloodline has existed since before the Age of Eternal Night," Aeternum's voice murmured in my mind, "long before the first cultivators ever drew spirit essence into their cores. They've accumulated millennia of knowledge. It makes sense their archives would exceed even mine in some ways." I kept my expression neutral, but the thought struck hard. Maybe they have something on Laplace...
Sanders sat in a high-backed chair near the center of the room, surrounded by a semi-circle of open books and glowing scrolls. He looked up as we entered, his gaze sharp beneath the auburn fringe of his hair.
"Ah," he said, folding a parchment with deliberate care. "So it seems Lilith and Eduardo have finally reunited."
I said nothing, but Eduardo offered a slight, respectful nod.
Sanders gestured for us to sit, his expression unreadable. "Good. We have much to discuss—and not a great deal of time to waste."
Before we could even settle into the chairs, the mansion's doorbell echoed through the halls—sharp, abrupt.
My internal senses were already sweeping toward the source. I froze when I recognized the signature.
Ben.
He was alive.
A flicker of relief stirred in my chest, sharp and brief, before it was swallowed by the ever-present darkness coiling in my heart. Survival was no balm. Not anymore. But still, he was alive.
"I'll get it," I said quickly.
I moved before Sanders could stop me, vanishing in a blur of speed and reappearing at the front door, just ahead of Hector.
When I pulled it open, Ben was there, gazing up at the overcast sky, lost in thought. He blinked in surprise when his eyes met mine.
"You're awake," he said, eyebrows lifting. "I thought you were still out."
"Woke up today," I replied. "How have you been?"
"Good," he said, though the word landed hollow. "Just came from Neil's place."
A beat passed.
"How... how's his family?" I asked softly. Ella and I had never met Neil's family. Despite being teammates, he had been a stranger in many ways. I wondered what that said about me—about us.
"They're grieving," Ben said, voice low. "That's all they can do right now."
"I—"
I didn't get to finish.
A pillar of golden light blazed into the courtyard behind Ben, slamming into the earth with divine precision. The aura struck me instantly—familiar and commanding.
As the light dissipated, a tall figure emerged from its heart.
Mary Avrams.
Daughter of Levi and Leah Avrams.My aunt.
She rose from her landing position—one knee bent, head bowed—then straightened, eyes locking onto mine with unmistakable urgency. Her golden robes shimmered faintly with residual mana as she ascended the porch steps, her presence radiating divine authority.
She stopped beside Ben, her gaze fixed on me.
"Lilith," she said, voice unwavering, "I see you've finally manifested the Mark."
So the Avrams did know. Of course they did. The truth of my bloodline wasn't hidden from them—only from me.
My hands curled into fists at my sides.
"What are you doing here, Mary?" I asked, not bothering to mask the edge in my voice. "Now's not the time for pleasantries."
I didn't trust her or the Avrams. They had known about Loridien Kael. They had known about his attempt to destroy Thornhill. They had known about the thing sealed in the Dungeon. And they said nothing.
"I know you're angry at me—and at my parents," Mary said, her tone clipped. "Frankly, I don't care. I'm only here to deliver the warning my mother asked me to pass along."
I folded my arms. "What warning does Leah want to give me?" I asked pointedly, using my grandmother's name on purpose.
Mary's jaw tightened, and I caught the flicker in her indigo eyes—she wanted to knock me through the nearest wall. But she held her composure.
"It's R.E.T.U," she said. "They're en route to Thornhill as we speak."
My heart stilled.
"They've dispatched the Royal Executors," Mary continued, voice grim. "They're coming for Ariella."
_
District Fractisus
Pandemonium city
Hudsonia Region
Kingdom of Ashtarium
November 5th, 6410
Lilith moved quietly through the remnants of the slum building, now little more than a charred skeleton of what it once was. Days had passed since that fateful night—the night she fought the Poison user and pulled Ariella from the brink. But echoes of that battle still lingered in the air, thick with the scent of ash and ruin.
The damage was catastrophic. Most of the structure had collapsed inward, the interior gutted by fire. The walls, once covered in peeling paint and fading graffiti, now stood blackened and crumbling. Entire sections of the upper floors had fallen, creating jagged mounds of rubble that jutted out like the bones of a dead beast.
Lilith stepped over broken beams and scorched bricks, her boots crunching against shattered glass and fragments of scorched wood. She paused where the roof had caved in—right at the heart of the battle—tracing the faint outline of the destruction she'd caused with her power. A blast mark scorched into the floor. Melted steel where her rage had burned too hot. The air still carried traces of venom, like a warning that the poison had never truly left.
The building was uninhabitable now.
The former residents—families barely getting by—had been forced to flee. Displaced. Scattered. The guilt gnawed at her, though she kept her face emotionless.
She knelt near a pile of scorched debris and sifted through it. Ash drifted through her fingers like dust from a forgotten world. This was where Ariella had been lying—bound and gagged—before Lilith had released her from it. She remembered the way her chest had been pierced from behind by the poison user.
Too close. That was too close...
Lilith stood, brushing soot from her gloves, her expression hardening. She hadn't come back just to reflect. She was searching for something—anything the Poison user might have left behind. A trace. A clue. A residue of energy. Anything that would tell her who they were and why they'd targeted Ariella.
Because she knew—this wasn't random.
It was personal.
While local law enforcement had initially stepped in, their jurisdiction was quickly revoked. Orders came down from the Royal Court itself: the case would be turned over to the R.E.T.U.—the Royal Enforcement and Tactical Union.
Whenever a matter involved the royal family, especially one as significant as an attack on the First Princess of Ashtarium, the chain of command shifted instantly. The Royal Guard took over, and the entire weight of the Crown's investigative machinery turned toward justice—or retribution.
The R.E.T.U. was not merely a law enforcement agency; it was the backbone of Ashtarium's Justice Department—a centralized, elite organization tasked with upholding Royal Law across the entire kingdom. Where civilian police enforced common law, R.E.T.U. operated above them, investigating threats to the monarchy, national security, and the sanctity of royal-given rights.
They dealt in high-level crimes: terrorism, cybercrime, illegal cultivation, royal treason, and violations of sacred bloodline protocols. If a law had its roots in the Crown, R.E.T.U. enforced it.
The agency was divided into three highly specialized divisions: The Royal Guard: The most visible arm of R.E.T.U., tasked with protecting members of the royal family—especially those of the Ashtarmel bloodline. But their role extended far beyond mere bodyguard duty. They investigated crimes directly involving royals, whether as victims or perpetrators. Lilith herself was a Royal Guard, and her position granted her the authority to act in both protective and investigative capacities under the Crown's mandate.
The Royal Enforcement Unit: Often referred to as the "Shield of the People," this division maintained the balance between nobility and commoners by enforcing royal-given rights. They monitored the aristocracy, investigated systemic corruption, oversaw the use of mana and cultivation practices among civilians, and pursued high-profile criminals. Their authority was vast, but strictly regulated, meant to maintain order, not inspire fear.
The Royal Execution Unit: Known only in whispers, they were the Kingdom's sanctioned shadows. Composed of elite operatives trained to eliminate Rogue Ascendants, this unit specialized in high-risk extermination and black-ops-level subjugation. Once someone was marked by the Executioners, it meant they had committed crimes beyond redemption—usually Ascendants who had gone mad, turned traitor, or threatened the metaphysical balance of the Kingdom itself.
Lilith paused, her boots crunching to a halt atop a patch of scorched rubble. Something hung in the air—faint, but unmistakable. A residue. A lingering imprint of energy.
It was his.
The Poison user.
Zohan Amadi—the leader of the kidnappers. A human, yes, but not an ordinary one. He had been Ascendant and dangerously strong. Strong enough that their battle had pushed Lilith to the brink. Strong enough that in the heat of their clash, something within her had snapped back into place—a fragment of memory long buried.
Her father's teachings. The lost battle art he had once passed down to her, now awakened mid-combat like a blade drawn from mist. It had come back in the moment she needed it most, allowing her to unleash the full expression of her Ability Factor in a style that was both brutal and refined.
Had Zohan been a Master realm Vampire instead of a human Ascendant, Lilith knew she wouldn't have stood a chance. She would've died before her mind even had time to remember who she was. Luck, it seemed, had been on her side that night.
She lifted her hand, focusing her intent on the residue in the air. The energy trembled in response. That battle had also brought something else into focus—her growing command over her Ability Factor: Primal Harmonics. Once, she could only absorb and transfer energy in raw, unstable waves. But now... something deeper had emerged. She had learned to harmonize with the vibrational frequency of energy itself—attune to its rhythm, read its echo, resonate with its origin. And through that resonance came insight.
By syncing with the frequency of residual energy, Lilith could now access embedded memories—the fragmented impressions left behind by powerful beings in moments of intense emotion or violent death. Especially when it came to the energy of death, Lilith had discovered a disturbing gift: she could peer into the echoes of suffering. Witness the remnants of pain, hatred, and fear imprinted into the very aether of the world. She closed her eyes and let her will extend into the residue.
Show me what you remember, Zohan.
The moment Lilith's consciousness harmonized with the residual energy, the world around her shifted.
The ruined slums melted away, replaced by shadow and mist. Colors dulled. Sound distorted. She stood as a silent observer in the echo of a memory, watching it unfold through Zohan Amadi's perspective—his senses, his thoughts, his intentions. It was like slipping into the skin of a ghost.
The scene settled into focus.
Zohan entered a dilapidated stone building, tucked into the heart of some unnamed backwater district. The windows were shuttered, the doors reinforced, and the air stank of wet rust and damp earth. The inside was dimly lit by flickering amber lamps that cast long shadows across the cracked walls.
At the center of the room stood a figure cloaked in layered black robes—the broker. Face hidden beneath a smooth silver mask etched with flowing arcane sigils. A data scroll floated beside him, spinning lazily as it projected encrypted sigil contracts in the air.
Zohan approached, tension hidden behind a practiced swagger. His cultivation aura, though veiled, pulsed with restless poison. He was on edge. Desperate. Hungry.
"You came alone," the broker said, voice filtered through the mask with a mechanical rasp.
"You said to," Zohan replied. "I'm not in the mood for games. You said you had a job worth my time."
"I have more than a job. I have an opportunity." The broker gestured, and the data scroll projected an image—blurry but unmistakable.
Ariella Ashtarmel.
Zohan's breath hitched in the memory. Lilith felt it through his body—the spike of disbelief, followed immediately by greed.
"The first princess?" he asked.
"Aye," the broker confirmed. "Alive. She is the mission."
"Let me guess, you want me to kidnap her?" Zohan asked, eyes gleaming.
"That, and more. She must be delivered to the drop point alive. No damage—physical or spiritual. You'll be well compensated. Twenty-four Astur stone, access to a Tier 3 cultivation array, and we'll even provide you with a month-long contract with a support team of skilled freelancers. Enough to help you with the job. Think about it. The price is enough to push you into the next realm—maybe two, if you're clever."
Zohan hesitated. "That's... a king's ransom. What's the catch?"
The broker leaned forward slightly. "The catch is failure. If you succeed, your rise is inevitable. If you fail—well, let's just say others have been sent before you. None of them returned."
Zohan's voice in the memory was low, but determined. "Then I won't fail."
Lilith felt the moment the deal was sealed. A surge of energy from Zohan's hand as he pressed his palm against the sigil contract. The pact locked into place.
Then the memory began to fracture. Light bled through the edges. The sound warped, and the image dissolved like sand in water. With a gasp, Lilith snapped back to the present. Dust swirled around her feet as the echo vanished.
Someone paid for Ariella's capture—and they'd paid well.
But more troubling than the price... was the implication that multiple attempts had already been made. Which was troubling since Lilith had no idea of any previous attempt to kidnapp Ariella.