The wind whispered through the towering skyline of Rome, carrying the scent of the distant sea and the weight of unseen power. Inside Vasco Tower, Vincent von Casserio Cassan Virkel Vasco stood in contemplative silence, his piercing gaze locked onto the vast cityscape before him. The world below moved in ignorance, unaware that the tides of power were shifting. Tonight marked the beginning of something greater—an era that would soon bear his mark.
The communicator in his hand was still warm from the call. His grandfather's words echoed in his mind: The others have started moving.
Vincent exhaled slowly, setting the device down on the marble surface beside him. The room, vast and adorned with subtle opulence, felt momentarily still—like the world itself was holding its breath. His fingers traced the rim of his glass, the deep red of the wine reflecting the quiet fire in his eyes.
The other families.
For centuries, the Twelve Families had operated in the shadows, wielding influence that transcended governments and economies. Each of them bore a legacy of cultivation, hidden from the world, their power dictating the very course of human civilization. While the masses fought for wealth, technology, and status, the true rulers had already surpassed those mundane struggles, commanding forces beyond mortal comprehension.
But among them, the Vasco Family stood at the pinnacle.
Vincent was not merely another successor—he was an anomaly, a being who had long surpassed even the limits of cultivation itself. The so-called Systems, artificial constructs that granted lesser beings a semblance of power, were nothing more than a joke to him. He had no need for guided evolution, for his path had been carved through raw will, relentless mastery, and an inheritance of bloodlines older than recorded history.
And now, the balance of power was shifting.
A soft knock echoed through the silence, precise and deliberate. Without turning, Vincent spoke.
"Enter."
The door opened soundlessly, revealing a tall figure draped in a tailored black coat. Lucien Dantes, the Vasco Family's chief intelligence officer, stepped forward with the calculated precision of a man who had spent his entire existence in the underbelly of power. His slicked-back silver hair and sharp, calculating eyes reflected a mind that saw the world as nothing more than a vast chessboard.
"My Lord," Lucien inclined his head slightly, his voice smooth but edged with urgency. "It has begun."
Vincent's gaze did not waver from the city. "Details."
Lucien took another step forward, placing a sleek tablet onto the desk before him. A holographic projection emerged, revealing a global network of shifting lines, moving indicators, and encrypted reports flowing in real time.
"The Kael Family has made their first move in London. Their operatives have begun mobilizing under the guise of a corporate acquisition, but we've intercepted a deeper pattern—cultivators hidden among their ranks."
Vincent's fingers tapped against the glass, his expression unreadable.
Lucien continued. "Meanwhile, the Sang Family in Beijing has tightened security around their territories. Our sources indicate they've detected an abnormal energy fluctuation in their sector—possibly linked to an artifact."
Vincent's eyes narrowed slightly. An artifact? If the Sang Family had found something worthy of their attention, it was no mere relic.
"And the others?"
Lucien's expression darkened. "The Navarro Family in Madrid has gone silent. No activity. No movements. Almost as if they're waiting."
A calculated move. The Navarro Family had always been known for their patience, preferring to let their enemies move first before striking with devastating precision. Vincent admired such methods—but he was no mere player in their games. He was the architect of their demise.
"Any word from the Wexlers?" Vincent asked, referring to the powerful American dynasty known for their ruthlessness in both the corporate and cultivation worlds.
Lucien exhaled. "They're watching, but they haven't committed yet. Their hesitation suggests they're still gauging your response."
Vincent let out a quiet chuckle, low and sharp. "Then let's give them something to see."
He turned, his presence like a force of nature. The air around him seemed to shift, the room itself bending to the weight of his aura. Lucien, despite his years of discipline, felt the slightest pressure—a reminder of the gap between them.
Vincent reached for his coat, slipping it over his tailored suit with effortless precision. "Prepare the jet."
Lucien's brows lifted ever so slightly. "Destination?"
"Beijing."
Lucien hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. "Understood. I'll have everything arranged within the hour."
Vincent stepped past him, his footsteps echoing in the vast room. "And Lucien," he said without turning.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Let the other families know." His voice was calm, yet it carried an undeniable authority. "The Vasco Family is done watching."
Lucien smirked slightly, understanding the implications. A storm was coming, and its first winds had already begun to stir.
As Vincent strode toward the elevator, the city outside seemed to shimmer beneath the night sky, oblivious to the war that was about to unfold.
This was no longer a game of influence.
This was conquest.