The Death Forest was unnervingly silent. The only sound breaking through the mist was Andrew's ragged breathing, heavy and uneven.

David frowned, stepping closer. He placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder.

"You okay? Want to rest for a bit?"

Andrew turned slightly, his face pale under the moonlight. He shook his head quickly.

"I'm fine. We need to keep moving. I'm… worried about everyone."

He didn't want to talk about it further, so he changed the subject.

"How's the situation in Bork, Lulu?"

"Uh, stable for now," Lulu replied, her tone short and focused.

"The Wolves are helping us. All the scavengers have been cleared out."

Andrew blinked, surprised. "The Wolves? You mean the Draemir?"

"Yeah."

"Why the hell are they here? Their territory's far south—"

Before he could finish, he doubled over, coughing violently. The sound tore through the still forest: raw, wet, and painful, like his lungs were being shredded from the inside.

"Hey, you're not fine at all."

David moved to support him, patting his back gently but when he pulled his hand away, there was blood on his palm.

"Oi, you're in bad shape, Andrew. This is from that high-rank Vitalis Core, isn't it? I heard the side effects can be brutal if you use it too long."

"Shut up…"

Andrew muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth. He straightened his back, trying to look composed.

"I'm not sick. I'll be fine."

He lied. His whole body felt like it was being crushed under a giant boulder. It always happened after using that cursed Core for too long.

'Damn it… If I keep falling apart like this, how the hell am I supposed to save my son?'

He rubbed his temple, forcing himself to focus.

The moment Seamus had fainted—with Diane and Maria beside him—Andrew had known something was wrong.

He knows Seamus has a power to control the dream realm based on his confession of getting revenge against his bully. Also fact that Isolde told him about the power of Crimson Nectar.

But entering a dream realm without the host's consent was impossible. All he could do was guard their bodies in the meantime.

Then the mist had rolled in. His vision had flickered, the air turning heavy and distorted. He recognized it immediately. An illusion.

But before he could react, the Crow had struck, moving faster than lightning. When the mist cleared, the bodies were gone.

'Elle only wanted Seamus… and apparently, his companions too.' He frowned, the thought gnawing at him.

'If it were just Seamus, I'd understand, they're after his blood. But the rest? What does she want with them?'

A cold chill ran down his spine. He had a bad feeling about this, an instinct honed from years of surviving worse odds.

The Corvane family was not known for mercy. Even the Seven Great Covenant avoided crossing paths with them.

A fallen house: rotted, and ruthless.

The trees began to move strangely, branches creaking as though the forest itself held its breath.

David drew his blade, the steel glinting faintly under the moonlight, while Andrew pulled a bone sword out from his palm, his expression calm, but his body was tense.

Lulu, trembling behind them, looked as though she wished she could vanish entirely.

The aura from this vampire was different from that children experiment after all.

Then, from the dead trees ahead, bark and roots twisted together, forming the vague shape of a person.

The rough brown texture began to fade, bleeding into pale grey tones until an elderly woman stood there, glasses perched on her sharp nose, her butler's uniform immaculate.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Corvane territory," she said with a graceful bow. "My name is—"

"I know who you are, Sarah."

Andrew's voice cut through her greeting like a blade. "Has your curse not been lifted yet?"

Sarah flinched, barely perceptible, though her smile never faltered. "Oh, if it isn't Mr. Da—"

"I'm not that man anymore," he interrupted again, tone cold. "And my name isn't important. Take me to my son."

A flicker of something passed through her eyes—annoyance, perhaps—but she masked it instantly, straightening her posture.

Her golden irises glimmered faintly in the dim light as she inclined her head.

"Of course, sir. I shall escort you to our… majestic manor."

"WHAT?!"

David and Lulu spoke in unison, disbelief painting their faces.

"This is a trap, Andrew!" David snapped. "We should end her right here before she tries anything."

The two men locked eyes, tension humming like a live wire between them.

"Ugh, David's right!" Lulu added, gripping her staff nervously.

"I hate fighting, but this is way too suspicious. That woman, she's…"

David glanced at her. "You know her?"

Lulu nodded, voice dropping to a whisper. "She's cursed by the Emblem of Enigma. Betrayed her covenant and nearly destroyed her own house."

David frowned. He'd heard the rumors before, Corvane's reputation as a rotten house was well-earned.

They consumed weaker covenants, assimilating or destroying them entirely.

And Sarah… she'd once been one of the most beautiful vampires of her age and part of proud member of one of the Seven Great Covenants, before the Emblem's punishment twisted her into this pale, hollow form.

It said she was gone for almost two decades. Hiding herself in a secret place, too ashamed to showed her own face.

And here she was... Becoming Corvane's maid?

Andrew stepped forward before anyone could stop him.

"We'll start a Blood Pact," he declared.

David's eyes widened. "Are you insane?! Don't do that! If either of you violates the vow, it'll kill those who defy it!"

Andrew's gaze didn't waver. "I'm already a dead man, David."

David froze. The words hit like a blow. He looked at his old friend: his frail frame, the pallor of his skin, the slowness in every motion. The hollow look in those once-bright eyes.

He was dying.

"Do you really want to die like this?" David asked quietly.

But Andrew didn't answer.

Sarah, meanwhile, tilted her head slightly, smile still fixed and unreadable. "Very well," she said softly.

"State your terms."

Something was unnerving in her confidence. That old woman was plotting something.

For reasons none of them yet understood, they were walking right into it.

Both of them sliced open their palms and clasped hands, blood mingling between their fingers. Andrew was the first to speak.

"In the name of the False God of All Undead," he said, voice low but steady, "the darkness and crimson within Him, I state my agreement, Corvane shall not harm me, nor the companions behind me not even a single blood fall between us."

The statement was deliberate and singular. In a Blood Pact, simplicity meant survival; two promises could tilt the balance and invite exploitation. Both sides had to stand on equal ground.

The blood on Andrew's hand began to writhe like a serpent, coiling and twisting before slithering toward Sarah's palm.

Between them appeared a spectral scale, its pendulum heavy on Andrew's side.

Sarah cleared her throat softly, her tone smooth, reverent.

"The False God of Undead," she echoed, "as your most faithful servant and creation, I state my agreement with this human named…"

"Andrew," he interrupted.

"Yes, Andrew."

Her lips curved into a sharper smile. "He and his companions shall not speak of what occurs within the manor. Not to their sons or daughters. Not to their parents or wives."

The grin that followed was wicked, far too pleased. Her blood reached toward Andrew's, and the scales balanced.

Thin threads of blood extended from their palms, weaving together into a glowing sigil: a crescent moon stitched into their flesh.

When it sealed, the air around them went still. The vow was complete.

David and Lulu stood frozen. Neither spoke, though the dread in their eyes said everything. Whatever Corvane had planned, it reeked of deceit.

"Come," Sarah said, turning gracefully toward the mist. "I shall guide you to the manor."

The fog ahead parted like a curtain, revealing a towering fortress of black stone. Its spires pierced the moonlight, windows glowing faintly red. The three swallowed hard, stepping forward into enemy ground.

***

Seamus exhaled deeply and pressed a quick kiss to Diane's temple before pulling on his shirt and trousers fast, but neatly.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, still smeared with stains from their earlier chaos, and decided not to think about it.

"I'm ready, Madeline. Bring me back."

Her voice resonated through the mark on his hand.

'Alright. I'll disable the bracelet temporarily. I'll open a breach into Corvane territory, just enough to get you inside their manor.'

She paused before adding, her tone darkening,

'But listen, Seamus. Roanna is unforgiving. If they catch you, they won't kill you. They'll make you wish they had. You'll be treated as less than a beast.'

"Great," he muttered.

"Are all vampires allergic to sanity, or does it just evaporate after the transformation?"

'Shhh, I'm concentrating!'

The floor beneath him began to glow, a perfect circle sketching itself in molten red like someone drawing with a pencil made of lava.

In its center, the serpent emblem of Velstrath appeared, hissing faintly as the light flared.

Then, without sound or warning, the world folded in on itself.

Seamus was swallowed by darkness.

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