Chapter 435: A Far Away Tale – The Progenitor, Elder and Blood

Dogo and Erzsebet, the two Elders who had arrived under the Progenitor’s command, walked at a leisurely pace.

They brushed off suspicious gazes like a couple out for a stroll, heading straight for the Lightning Tower.

Though unfamiliar with Claudia’s geography, predators like vampires could always sense where blood flowed.

Especially when the scent was this thick.

Staring at the tip soaked with blood, Erzsebet spoke.

“Dogo. Can you feel it now?”

“…”

Dogo gave no reply.

Erzsebet, used to his silence, answered her own question.

“Let’s stop with the cherry act, shall we? I won’t say anything about your vow never to speak to a woman, even in death. It’s still better than swearing to flirt with them until the grave.”

Even after becoming a vampire, Dogo treated asceticism as a part of his path.

He abstained from food, refrained from speaking to women, and never slept on soft bedding.

Even in death, he clung to the teachings of life.

Since vampires lacked hunger, lust, or sleep, this was more of a ritual than a hardship.

The Progenitor was the only exception to his vow.

Looking at him upholding his vow of silence, Erzsebet sighed quietly behind her fan.

“But if your stubbornness in life keeps you from fulfilling the Progenitor’s command properly… I might come to despise you.”

Noblewoman Erzsebet, a powerful blood sorceress who claimed the blood of a thousand, had earned her fame even before becoming a vampire.

Excluding the Progenitor, no one could command as much blood at once.

She had also been versed in white magic before death, making her a master of both control and destruction via Bloodcraft.

Even Dogo couldn’t take her lightly.

If she were a man, he would’ve replied formally or thrashed her outright, but since she was a woman, neither option was available.

“…The reverence I once felt toward the Progenitor… is no longer there. I do not know why. I’ve meditated alone in contemplation, yet found no answer.”

Dogo murmured as if talking to himself.

It was clear he was just trying to preserve his vow with this workaround.

Erzsebet covered her mouth with her fan and replied.

“The Progenitor, too, must have felt the change, but her dominion has somewhat remained intact.”

“What scheme or insight must I gain to reach understanding? My shallow wisdom cannot grasp it.”

“It’s simple. Even when I exerted my full strength, her Primordial Essence didn’t budge a speck.”

Flowers bore thorns.

The dangerous scent behind her hidden lips made even Dogo flinch.

Trying to control the Progenitor’s blood—had she succeeded, it would’ve been outright treason.

If the Progenitor had sensed her attempt, she might have been annihilated instantly.

Dogo kept silent, not out of a vow, but because he was genuinely speechless.

Pulling her hat low to hide her expression, Erzsebet smiled behind her fan.

“Still, it’s clear the Progenitor has changed a little. In the past, I wouldn’t have dared… wouldn’t have even had the will to try.”

“…”

“If your curiosity has been satisfied, shall we go? I wish to fulfill the Progenitor’s will without delay. Who knows, perhaps we’ll encounter something… precious along the way.”

Just as Erzsebet was about to walk again, she spotted Shei descending and murmured.

“Ah, our escort has come out to greet us.”

Shei landed with a crouch, ready to strike if necessary.

Her killing intent was detected immediately and Dogo was the first to respond.

Before Shei even touched down, he had clasped his hands together, ready for battle.

“Dogo. Erzsebet. You’re Elders from the Mist Duchy, right?”

Such impudence—from a whelp, mere livestock, no less!

Sparks flared in Dogo’s eyes.

An old man even in life, now bound by death and doctrine, he could not tolerate such disrespect from a youngster.

He prepared to rebuke her—

“—Mmm!”

Or he would have, had an odd resistance not caught in his throat.

Shei glanced at him with curiosity.

She had poked for a reaction and expected an outburst—but what came instead was… a grunt, as if something tried to emerge but failed.

Her brows raised slightly.

“Did Tyrkanzyaka send you? What are two Elders doing here?”

Provoking an Elder was easy.

They were all fossilized relics from a thousand years ago and zealous devotees who twitched at the Progenitor’s name.

If you wanted a fight, all you had to do was prod the Progenitor.

Or so she thought.

Erzsebet, instead of flaring up, brushed her lips with a closed fan as if savoring a flavor.

“Oho… such a juicy-looking cherry.”

“W-what?”

Before Shei could react further, Erzsebet appeared right before her.

A technique known as the Bloodpath—gliding on a path of blood without moving her hands or feet.

Not only was it fast, it was creepily silent, like a phantom.

Shei instinctively leaped back in terror using her Heavenly Counter Domain.

Erzsebet wistfully traced the space Shei had just vacated.

“Fair skin, a youthful face. Androgynous charm with that little mole by your eye. Your scent and appearance are exactly my type. You’d be delightful to bite.”

Vampires didn’t hunger, but they did have preferences for blood.

Some Elders even took pleasure in savoring particular humans as if they were fine cuisine.

The most extreme example of this… was a consort.

Erzsebet fluttered her fan again and added.

“Pure and healthy too. The Progenitor would surely covet such blood. Ah… so there is still joy left in this world—”

“I’m not here to be some snack. Cut the crap and get to the point.”

“Oh dear~ You’re right. We do have a task.”

-Snap.

Erzsebet snapped her fan shut and spoke with dangerous poise.

“By the will of the great and eternal Progenitor, we’re here to deliver a command to Lyre Nightingale. She is to return immediately.”

“Just here to deliver a command? You’re not here to take her by force?”

“Is there a difference? No vampire refuses a direct command from the Progenitor.”

Not entirely true. Shei knew Lyre had broken her Shackles.

If she wished, she could ignore even the Progenitor’s decree.

And as long as there were patients here, Lyre would remain.

What choice she’d make, Shei didn’t know.

But…

“If you think of another woman in front of me, I’ll pout, my sweet cherry.”

“Who the hell’s your sweet cherry?! I’m not giving you a drop of my blood!”

Snapping back, Shei hesitated.

In the end, the choice was Lyre’s.

If Lyre wished to leave, Shei had no reason to stop her.

But if she wished to stay, Shei would support her.

“…Fine. I’ll go tell her.”

“Hm? Tell her?”

“Yeah, literally. She’s inside tending to a patient. I’ll go ask—”

“- -Mmm!”

– Boom.

A powerful force reverberated through the earth.

Shei instinctively fell into a defensive stance as an overwhelming presence radiated from Dogo.

Though his face remained unchanged, the pressure alone conveyed his fury.

“The Progenitor’s command is absolute! Any vampire must run barefoot to kneel before her! How dare she not appear at once—!”

Whether he was speaking to someone or not was unclear—but under the pressure of that overwhelming presence, it hardly mattered.

Shei tightened her grip on Jizan and began quietly compressing Chun-aeng behind her.

The one inherent weakness of immortal vampires was their dulled senses.

With death so distant, their sense of danger naturally faded, leading to a sluggishness in perception.

“Don’t cause a scene. Just think for a second, you should think of your position. Unless you want all of Claudia as your enemy…”

“For one who walks the path of asceticism, the most vital thing is resolve! No matter what obstacles life may throw, one must endure and press forward!”

Again, the ground trembled.

Echoes of Agony.

His movement technique, named after the thorn-covered paths we walked through all his life, shook the earth and left crimson prints in its wake.

If you were to weigh the frail old monk on a scale, he might not even match the nearest brick, but somehow, his footsteps held enough force to shake the earth.

His technique, born of the same Bloodcraft as Erzsebet’s Bloodpath, had evolved in an entirely different direction.

Where Erzsebet’s was majestic and elegant, Dogo’s was rugged and crude—so much so that it was hard to believe they were both vampires.

“I am both the ascetic and the hardship that mortals must face!”

This was how vampires survived even against the Sanctum. Dogo set his sights on the Lightning Tower and began a march that nothing could stop.

“Very well. Come forth!”

Facing his growing approach, Shei also drew Jizan.

Carefully, she hid the power she had been preparing within the blade’s shadow.

Blood Monk Dogo.

He was powerful, but he had one weakness.

Not physical weakness, but an ideological one.

Shei had no intention of blocking or dodging. Instead, she poured all her strength and Qi into her strike.

Dogo was an ascetic.

He inflicted pain on himself in pursuit of enlightenment.

Becoming a vampire had not altered that belief.

To him, life was suffering, and vampiric immortality was an endless trial.

That’s why he wore a simple hemp robe, exposing much of his skin to the sunlight so that he could feel pain and discomfort.

To him, pain was not something to avoid, it was something to embrace.

Thus, Dogo never dodged attacks.

He endured them.

Unlike someone like Lunken, who relied on regeneration to brute-force through, Dogo’s way of taking hits was itself a refined technique and philosophy.

He was fully prepared to take Shei’s strike.

And Shei had already experienced this.

That was different from just knowing.

We call those who can immediately apply what they know geniuses.

Those who learn through experience are called talented.

And those who learn only after repeated failure are called mediocre.

Shei was a mediocre talent.

What set her apart was that she had failed countless times, and came back each time.

“Haaaahhh!”

Shei poured even her Defensive Qi Art, Heavenly Counter Domain, into the attack.

Normally used to prepare for defense and reaction, she now channeled it into Jizan.

She had always lacked that one edge—that final paper-thin sliver separating life and death.

Her strikes were blunt, her finish was sloppy.

Despite her immense power, she often let enemies slip away due to her unpolished technique.

But once in her life—just once—she had landed a blow worthy of being remembered.

Like most without talent, her problem wasn’t pulling it off, but recreating it at will.

The Sword Empress had taken pity on her and rewrote part of her technique into an offensive form.

So she could call upon that one brilliant moment whenever she needed it.

It was embedded into her body’s memory, into her Qi itself.

Heavenly Counter Domain: Offensive Form.

Not graceful, sure, but it guaranteed power.

Shei called upon the strike that had once succeeded.

Aerith Blade Supreme, Duality!

The tip of Jizan traced a subtle curve.

The heavily compressed Chun-aeng within acted like a bottled storm, vibrating even the blade itself with tremendous power.

Condensing sky and earth into a single point, Shei extended her full body and unleashed the tempest upon Dogo—

And Dogo faced it head-on, fully prepared to absorb the blow.

His dry, bony frame didn’t resist or yield to the typhoon within the blade, it simply melted into the flow and became one with it.

Demonic Martial Arts: Tempest.

Shei and Dogo collided.

Blood and flesh were whipped into the swirling storm, painting Claudia in a literal crimson gale.