House of Blood

My sister’s arms were like iron bands around my small chest.

She held me so tightly I could hear the erratic, thunderous beat of her heart echoing through her silver chestplate.

”Sister...” I gasped, my small voice muffled against her armor. ”Can’t... breathe.”

”Ah! Forgive me!”

She pulled back instantly, her large crimson eyes swimming with panic as she checked my arms and neck for injuries.

This was Lady Vespera Prim Sanguis. The eldest daughter of our house. The Death Mistress.

To the rest of the continent, she was a cold, unyielding calamity who executed enemies without a second thought.

Right now, she was fretting over me like a mother hen.

”What is this cloth on your eyes, Valerian?” Her voice dropped, sharp and dangerous. ”Did someone hurt you? Who gave you this blindfold?!”

”No one, Sister,” I said quickly, placing my small hands over hers to steady them. ”My eyes... they burn when light touches them. I put it on to stop the pain.”

Not a complete lie.

If she removed this silk right now and looked into my eyes, her own buried guilt would crush her soul.

I had no control over the technique yet.

Unleashing it now would destroy the very people I swore to protect.

Vespera stared at me, her brow furrowing in deep suspicion.

She reached out, her calloused thumb brushing gently against my cheek.

”The strange, black weight that used to choke your bloodline... it’s quiet,” she murmured softly.

A rare, faint smile touched her lips before her expression hardened again.

”Good. You rest today. The elders of the Sec family requested a clan council this afternoon. They claim your ’weakness’ is a liability to the Prim name.”

My fists clenched under the silk blanket.

The Sec Sanguis elders.

In my past life, they used my lack of Death Aura to strip my core family of our authority, bit by bit, until they finally framed me for high treason.

”Are you going to the meeting?” I asked.

Vespera reached down, casually picking up her massive black scythe with one hand as if it were a wooden toy.

”Of course,” she said coldly, her crimson eyes flashing with lethal intent. ”They need to be reminded who rules this estate.”

She turned toward the shattered doorway, stopping briefly to cast a warm, protective glance back at me.

”Stay in bed, Valerian. Let your elder sister handle the snakes.”

As soon as her heavy footfalls faded down the corridor, a low voice chimed inside my mind.

’She’s scary,’ Wren purred, her spirit form manifesting from the fabric of my blindfold to perch on my knee as a tiny black crow.

’I like her. She smells like blood and steel.’

”She’s the strongest of us,” I whispered, sliding my small legs out of bed. ”And in my past life, she died trying to save me.”

’Where do you think you’re going, kid? You heard her. Your body is weak, and your dragon eyes are a volatile mess. If you pull off that cloth right now without training your soul-core, your own brain will melt before you break anyone else.’

”I know,” I said, my teeth grinding together.

Wren was right.

Raw vengeance without a foundation was suicide.

I had the power of the Blood Dragon inside me, but right now, I was still ten years old.

My physical vessel was frail.

My eyes were an uncontrollable weapon.

If I rushed out and exposed my power, the Sec elders wouldn’t just sit back—they would bring down the full might of their shadow network, including the Medeis mages, before I was strong enough to face them.

”I don’t need to destroy them today,” I muttered, grabbing a dark tunic from the wardrobe.

”I just need to know what they’re planning.”

---

The Great Hall of the Prim Sanguis estate was built like a fortress.

Massive obsidian pillars held up a vaulted ceiling, and down the center ran a long table cut from a single block of dark stone.

I stood on the upper gallery, hidden behind the heavy velvet drapes, looking down at the gathering.

The hall was divided.

On the left sat my six elder siblings, radiating a heavy, suffocating pressure.

On the right sat the Sec Sanguis elders, led by Elder Garren—a snake of a man with graying hair and sharp, greedy eyes.

”Lady Vespera,” Garren’s oily voice echoed through the hall. ”We do not wish to disrespect the core family. But the boy is ten years old now. He has yet to manifest even a single droplet of Death Aura.”

”And?” Vespera’s voice was smooth ice, her battle scythe resting against her chair.

”And the Medeis family pushes against our eastern borders!” Garren slammed his hand on the stone table.

”Their mages carve spells into their souls to cast at triple speed! We cannot afford to harbor a dud in the main family! He should be sent to the Ter family estate in the outer rings!”

Exile to the outer commoners.

Just like in my past life.

Beside Vespera, my second elder brother—a battle-crazed giant named Caelum—leaned forward, his muscles bulging as his red aura flared violently.

”Say that again, old man,” Caelum snarled, his hand gripping his broadsword. ”I dare you.”

”Calm yourself, Nephew,” Garren sneered, undeterred. ”The boy’s blood is stagnant. He is a disgrace to the Blood Dragon.”

From behind the curtain, I felt a pulse of dark heat ignite in my chest.

’Careful,’ Wren warned in my mind.

’Don’t let your aura leak. That snake has two high-tier bodyguards hiding in the shadows behind him.’

I took a slow, deep breath, forcing the boiling dragon blood back down into my core.

Wren was right.

I looked closely at the shadows near Garren’s chair.

Even with my vision obscured by the blindfold, my newly awakened eyes picked up the faint, silver outline of soul-carved mana lurking in the dark corners of the pillars.

Medeis mages.

Garren hadn’t just come to ask for my exile.

He brought hidden Medeis assassins into the heart of the Prim estate, waiting for an opportunity.

If I revealed myself and tried to fight now, I would be a liability to my siblings.

They would have to protect me while fighting off an ambush.

Not yet.

Let them think I’m weak.

Let them think I’m a dud.

”Valerian stays where he is,” Vespera’s voice boomed below, echoing like thunder through the obsidian hall.

Her scythe vibrated with a terrifying crimson light, cracking the stone floor beneath her feet.

”If any elder of the Sec family speaks his name again, I will personally harvest your head.”

Garren paled, biting his lip as he slowly backed down, hiding his venomous glare behind a bow.

”As the Death Mistress commands.”

I watched from above as the meeting dispersed.

Garren thought he was playing the long game, slowly carving away at my family until he could strike.

He had no idea that the ”dud” he wanted to exile was watching his every move from the dark.

---

’So,’ Wren chimed, her spirit fluttering around my shoulder as I walked back toward my quarters.

’What’s the plan, partner? You aren’t going to just sit in your room and eat soup, are you?’

”No,” I said, my hand touching the silk covering my eyes.

”First, I learn to control these eyes so I don’t kill my own family by looking at them.”

I paused at the window, looking out toward the mountain ranges beyond the estate where the family’s ancient training grounds lay.

”Then, I master the first stage of the Blood Weapon Art.”

”I’m going to build my strength step by step... and tear Garren’s network apart from the roots up.”

---

Later that evening, the deep crimson sky turned into a pitch-black night.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, focusing my inner breath to circulate the faint dragon blood flow.

’Hey, kid,’ Wren suddenly whispered, her voice tightening inside my head.

’Don’t move. Look down at your floor.’

I kept my body completely still and shifted my crimson-tinted vision downward.

Sliding silently beneath the crack of my bedroom door was a thin, thread-like shadow.

It didn’t belong to any light source in the room.

It crawled along the floorboards like a living snake, creeping straight toward the side of my bed.

” WARNING: FOREIGN SOUL-MANA DETECTED ”

” ENTITY: LEVEL 3 SOUL-CARVED SHADOW PROBE ”

It wasn’t just a tracking spell on Vespera’s shadow.

Garren had already sent a soul-carved scout straight into my personal bedchamber while those in the manor slept.

The black shadow-thread began to coil around the foot of my bedpost, rising slowly toward my throat.