Somewhere on a world called Earth, nestled deep within a sprawling metropolis, there exists a hematology lab. Not just any lab, but a sanctuary for science—a temple of glass and steel buried beneath a university hospital. It hummed with sterile intensity and the sharp scent of disinfectant, a place where the secrets of blood were not just studied, but dissected, challenged, and perhaps even conquered.
Inside, the atmosphere thrummed with purpose. Research stations flickered with holographic blueprints and glowing graphs. Test tubes clinked, centrifuges whirred, and conversations fluttered through the air like moths to flame. Dozens of researchers leaned over their microscopes, clicked away at data tablets, and compared results on smartboards.
"Did you see the stability in Sample 9?"
"That anomaly in the hemoglobin clusters? Absolutely wild."
"If Mercer's model holds up, this could rewrite the foundational literature."
"I heard he hasn't slept in three days."
In the eye of this intellectual storm stood a singular figure—Alex Mercer.
At just twenty-four, Alex had already earned a dozen nicknames: The Blood Whisperer, The Crimson Prodigy, The Surgeon of Secrets. Raven-black hair framed his angular features, and his crimson eyes gleamed beneath the bright lab lights—eyes that saw what others missed.
His hands moved with elegant precision, pipetting samples with fluid grace. His workstation was immaculate, yet dense with information. Rows of labeled vials, notebooks scribbled with equations, and a sleek molecular analyzer blinked like a sentinel.
He stared into the blood sample before him, his thoughts as sharp as a scalpel.
The cellular behavior... it's abnormal. No degradation at high oxygen levels, no clotting where there should be. It defies logic. It defies mortality.
Around him, several coworkers had gradually clustered, magnetized by his movements.
"He's doing something new. You can feel it," whispered one.
"I heard he's working on cellular rejuvenation. Like, full DNA repair."
"He's already gone further than we dreamed."
Alex didn't acknowledge them. He was deep in a trance. The blood under his microscope held a mesmerizing pattern.
It's not just blood. It's a language. A map. And I'm close to decoding it.
He reached for a secondary analysis screen, pulling up longitudinal samples from the past five years. Comparing structure, testing reactions.
"It's too smooth," he muttered. "Too stable. What are you hiding?"
One researcher gasped, "Is he talking to the blood?"
Another chuckled nervously. "He always does that when he's about to discover something."
Alex finally looked up. His voice was casual. "Hey guys, can you give me some room?"
Stunned silence.
"Did... did he just talk to us?" one murmured.
"He spoke!"
Alex smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a genius, but even geniuses need space to breathe."
Laughter broke out, lightening the mood.
"Right! Sorry, boss."
"Back to our stations, people. Let the man work his magic."
They drifted away like shadows at sunrise, and once again, Alex was alone. He leaned in, whispering to the vial:
"You and I, we've come a long way. Five years of isolation, failures, self-experimentation. You better give me something tonight."
Time passed. The lab dimmed as motion-sensors shut down unused zones. Researchers left in ones and twos, offering brief goodbyes.
"Night, Alex."
"You going home soon?"
He didn't respond.
Eventually, the last lights flicked off behind the last departing technician. The lab was his alone.
Hours passed.
Alex remained, pouring over graphs, injecting proteins into suspended samples, observing reactions in live simulations. He calibrated the analyzer again and again, each time tweaking the blood cocktail just slightly.
Finally, he set the vial into the DNA sequencer.
"Come on... just a spark."
Minutes ticked by. Then—
BEEP.
Alex's eyes snapped open. The machine blinked. The strands began forming—double helices unwinding, recombining.
He leaned closer. "No way."
The readout began to stabilize. A red glow pulsed on the screen. A new strand had formed—unlike anything in known human biology.
"This... this isn't human," he whispered. "It's something else. Perfectly stable. It resists entropy."
He shot to his feet.
"I found it!" he shouted. "It's real. The immortal sequence—it's here!"
He danced, laughing like a madman.
"Five years. Five years, and I found the damn thing!"
He forced himself to calm down, trembling as he organized his notes, cataloged samples, and encrypted the findings.
"I need to get out. Just... breathe."
He stored the vial with reverence, almost like it was holy.
He turned off the machines one by one. The clicks and hums slowed into silence. He shut drawers, flipped switches, turned off lights.
Each action felt ceremonial—as if he were closing the temple after a sacred rite.
Finally, he stood at the exit.
"Tomorrow, the world changes."
He stepped into the night.
The city was alive. Neon lights bathed the streets in electric glow. Horns blared. Music pulsed from hidden speakers. People laughed in sidewalk cafes.
Alex walked in a daze.
Immortality. In my hand. I'm not just a researcher. I'm the reaper's rival.
He smirked. "Damn, I should celebrate. Find a bar. Maybe even try something human. Like joy."
As he walked, a young couple passed him. They were laughing, arms wrapped around each other.
Alex slowed, watching them.
Beautiful. That's what humans are. Fragile, stupid, but beautiful.
But something was wrong.
Behind them, a shadow moved.
A hooded man. Twitching. Whispering. Eyes wild. A glint of metal in his hand.
Knife.
Alex's heart jumped.
The man picked up speed.
"Watch out!" Alex shouted, running.
The couple gasped—but Alex was faster.
He shoved them aside.
The blade pierced his chest.
The world froze.
The hooded man stepped back, eyes wide. "I—I didn't mean—"
He dropped the knife and ran.
Alex staggered.
He looked down. Blood poured from his chest, hot and thick.
Voices screamed.
"Someone help him!"
"Call 911!"
Alex fell to his knees, then to the ground. He reached for the wound. Blood stained his hands.
So warm… so much of it.
I was supposed to live forever... not die like this.
His vision faded.
He heard voices... then nothing.
Darkness took him.
Then—light.
Alex opened his eyes slowly, blinking against a soft crimson glow. He realized he was floating—suspended in an ocean of thick, warm, shimmering liquid.
"Blood..." he whispered, staring at his hand as the crimson fluid dripped slowly from his fingertips.
He turned his gaze upward and gasped.
Above him stretched an endless sky painted in hues of scarlet and gold, where stars gleamed like rubies and planets hovered like ornaments in a divine cathedral. Nebulas twisted like blooming arteries, and comets streaked through the heavens trailing crimson smoke. The air was silent but alive with cosmic majesty.
Where... what is this place?
He sat upright within the liquid, but it held him like glass. When he tried to stand, the surface beneath him solidified just enough to support his feet. He stood atop the ocean, the ripples underfoot gleaming with red luminescence.
He looked around. The silence was deep. Ancient. Alive.
"This place..." he murmured. "It's isolated... empty... silent."
He turned in every direction.
"Hello?" he called, louder now. "Anybody here?"
His voice echoed into the vastness. For a long, breathless moment, there was no reply.
Then—
"Hello."
The word was soft, almost melodic, as if spoken from within his mind. He spun around.
"Who's there?!"
He scanned the horizon. Nothing but blood and stars.
Then, the ocean below began to bubble.
"What the hell...?"
The surface churned violently. Waves of crimson rolled outward. The center of the disturbance swirled, forming a spiral column of blood.
From the center, a shape began to rise. A humanoid form, sculpted first from liquid, then slowly solidifying.
A woman.
She rose higher and higher, the blood cascading off her like molten silk. Her body was impossibly graceful, towering, divine. Her skin was pale ivory, veins of glowing crimson pulsing beneath its surface like living light. Her hair, a cascading river of blood and black-red silk, moved with a mind of its own, flowing and twisting like sentient ink.
Her eyes opened.
Crimson irises, lined with swirling rings of power and mystery, met his.
She smiled, the curve of her lips both elegant and haunting.
Might love him in a way that terrifies even her.
"Hello, my Crimson Star," she said.
Alex's breath caught.
He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the surreal beauty standing before him.
"What... who are you?" he stammered.
The woman stepped forward, the hem of her gown floating above the blood, her crown of crystalline sigils orbiting her head like ancient relics.
"Me?" she said with a voice like warm wine. "I am Velmora. Goddess of Blood—Crimson Matron of Veins and Vows."
Alex took a step back, eyes wide, heart pounding.
"A goddess of blood?" he gasped. "What the hell...?"
Velmora's smile widened, enigmatic and almost... fond.
Alex Mercer stood ankle-deep in the crimson ocean, its surface rippling with slow pulses like the beat of a planetary heart. Above him, a sky of black velvet swirled with red stars—blood constellations that spun in eerie silence. No wind. No warmth. No time.
His chest still ached—wounds from the knife that ended him. But the blood wasn't spilling anymore. It was all around him, holding him, preserving him.
He stared at the tall, impossibly elegant woman emerging from the sea. Her presence pressed into him like gravity, like memory, like a fever he couldn't wake from.
She stood poised—six-foot-six of divinity wrapped in shadow silk. Her voice, still echoing in the back of his mind, said: "Hello, my Crimson Star."
Alex staggered, thoughts spiraling.
What… what is this place? Is this death? A dream? Why am I talking to a goddess of blood, of all things? Why not God? Or nothing? Or oblivion?
His heart pounded again, though it wasn't flesh anymore. It beat with a strange rhythm—ancient, alien. He narrowed his eyes.
"…'My Crimson Star?'" he muttered aloud. "What the hell does that even mean?"
The woman giggled—low, rich, like dark wine poured in a cathedral. It echoed unnaturally across the sea.
"Oh, this is real, my Crimson Star," she said. "Realer than that body you left behind. Realer than all your little cells and pretty theories."
Alex clenched his fists. "Why am I here?! Are you really… a goddess of blood?"
She stepped forward slowly. The ocean parted for her gown like it was alive, reverent to her presence.
"Yes," she said, with quiet pride. "I am Velmora. The Crimson Matron of Veins and Vows. The first to bleed, the last to drink. Goddess of all that pulses and flows."
She gazed at him with a gentleness that belied the dread she inspired.
"And I've been watching you, Alex. So brilliant. So alone. So desperate to trap time inside a single drop."
Alex's crimson eyes widened.
How… how does she know?
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"You wanted to reverse the DNA spiral. Rewrite life's clock. Escape the decay written in your blood."
He took a slow step back, blinking.
"…How do you know that? Am… am I in trouble?" he whispered.
She tilted her head, smiling again.
"No, love. You're in transition. I watched your research bloom. I saw your hunger. The way you dissected blood not to harm, but to become more."
He looked down. The blood beneath his feet reflected his face—pale, breathless, half-dead.
"I didn't want to die of old age," he murmured. "Not in some hospital bed. I didn't want to fade… like everyone else. I wanted to live. Forever. For something."
Velmora's voice softened, yet carried the weight of mountains.
"And you shall. Everything will be fine, Alex."
His head snapped up. "How can you say that? I'm dead. My life's over. I'll never finish my work. I'll never publish. I'll never know—"
"Not over, my star," she interrupted. "Just… beginning."
She raised a hand. Red sigils drifted behind her fingers like whispers.
"I offer you a second life. A new body. A world that bleeds with magic… and a power that was forbidden long before men named it."
Alex froze.
A second chance…? A power… called blood magic?
Velmora smiled.
"Now I have your full attention, don't I?"
He swallowed hard as she approached. Her height loomed over him—her eyes gleaming like crimson galaxies. He stepped back, but she raised a hand, lifting his chin gently.
Her touch… cold. But not dead. More like… memory.
He stared directly into her swirling, red-ringed eyes.
"I will send you to another world," she said. "One where magic is carved from blood, and life is won in wounds. And in that world… you, Alex Mercer, will be reborn. As a Blood Mage."
"A new world?" he whispered, shaken. "A second life? To live again… and bleed for something greater?"
He looked at his reflection again.
"I'll… live again? Start over?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes. But not as you were. I gift you the Forbidden Art of Blood Magic—powerful… feared… outlawed. But also… cursed."
"Blood Magic…?" he murmured. "Cursed…?"
"Blood Mages use the very essence of life to alter fate," she said. "They bind, they heal, they rend, they command. Power drawn not from the stars—but from veins. From sacrifice. From loss. From desire."
His hands trembled. Then, slowly… his lips curled into a smile.
Immortality… power… purpose… I didn't die. I evolved.
Velmora leaned closer, her lips just inches from his ear.
"So, my Crimson Star… what do you think? Will you take the power of the Blood Mage? Will you bleed again—but this time, not for science… but for purpose?"
Alex stood bare-chested, the wound in his chest still burning faintly.
He didn't think of glory. Or vengeance. He thought of his abandoned work. His unfinished purpose. His future. His name.
He looked up. His voice was calm. Final. Alive.
"…Yes," he said. "I want to do it."
Her smile deepened—like the surface of a lake cracking to reveal a star beneath.
"Good…" she whispered.
Velmora's hand rose, graceful and deadly. She extended a single finger—pale ivory veined with divine crimson light. From its tip, a drop of glowing blood formed. It hovered—thick, radiant, luminous with centuries of power—and pulsed like a heart.
Time slowed. The stars above dimmed. The crimson ocean stilled.
"Drink," she said, her voice like wine in a cathedral. "Accept the price. Embrace the blood."
Alex did not flinch. He did not step back. He just opened his mouth, breath steady.
The drop fell.
It hit his tongue.
Silence.
Then—
AGONY.
Alex's eyes flew wide open—glowing red from within, searing like suns beneath glass. His body arched violently, muscles spasming. A scream ripped from his throat—raw, guttural, endless—but was devoured by the blood around him.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
It hurts! It's burning me alive! Why does it feel like I'm being unraveled and rewritten at once?! he thought, writhing.
His veins lit up—every capillary, every vessel igniting with molten ruby light that danced like wildfire under his skin.
Power burst outward—violent, primal. Crimson energy surged across the domain in shockwaves that distorted reality. The ocean exploded upward in spiraling columns, geysers of blood reaching toward the starless sky.
"MAKE IT STOP!" he roared.
His muscles reformed—fiber by fiber—becoming denser, stronger. Sigils traced themselves across his flesh, burning with knowledge.
His skin darkened slightly, a hue kissed by Velmora's ancient magic, and glowing with faint, rhythmic red markings that shimmered like breath.
His bones cracked, loud and sharp, then mended anew—infused with divine marrow.
His heart stopped… and silence returned for a heartbeat.
Then—BOOM.
His heart restarted with thunder, now synchronized with the pulsing of the Crimson Sea. From his back, ghostly tendrils of living vein-shaped energy unfurled in arcs before vanishing into mist.
Suddenly, crimson glyphs erupted around him in a swirling helix. Ancient blood runes danced in the air, rotating, burning, branding themselves into his soul.
The atmosphere itself twisted, air warping. Even Velmora's gown recoiled and fluttered as if the world feared his rebirth.
"AAAAAAAAARRRGHHHHH!" Alex screamed again, but it was no longer pain—it was power tearing through him.
Then a deafening shockwave shattered the silence.
A tidal ring of blood surged from where he stood, carving a circular canyon into the crimson ocean.
His scream became a roar.
"RRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!"
A final, blinding burst of bloodlight erupted from his chest, launching into the heavens. A pillar of crimson power pierced the sky, linking ocean to stars, mortal to divine.
Then—stillness.
Alex collapsed to one knee, breath ragged. Steam rolled from his skin. The glow ebbed, receding like a tide.
His eyes—still crimson—now shimmered with four concentric rings, alive with divine purpose.
Velmora stepped forward, hands clasped before her, equal parts mother, queen, and executioner.
She gazed at him with reverence.
"Beautiful…" she whispered.
Alex looked up, blinking sweat—or blood—from his brow.
"…What… am I now?" he asked, breathless.
She knelt, lowering her voice to a whisper near his ear.
"You are Blood Incarnate. The first mortal since the Forgotten War to carry my full gift. Blood Magic—unfiltered, unbound, unleashed."
She touched his chest.
"The world you're going to… it fears what you now are."
Alex grinned.
It's happening. My dream… my purpose… I will become a blood immortal.
He could feel it—power humming in his bones, ancient energy pulsing with each breath. The agony of transformation was over. In its place? Purpose. Drive. Ecstasy.
Behind him… the mask grinned. Not a literal mask, but the echo of his past self, now cracked and discarded.
He turned to Velmora.
She stood like a scarlet monument against the endless crimson sea, her eyes glowing with divine pride.
"Are you ready for the new world?" she asked, voice smooth as velvet, powerful as a storm.
Alex looked up, steady and calm.
"Yes," he said with a confident grin. "I'm ready to see what this new world has to offer. I'm ready to master my blood magic."
Then his eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"But… before I go—what kind of magic system does this world use? What am I stepping into, exactly?"
Velmora's expression shifted from proud to thoughtful. Her aura pulsed, slow and deep, as if tapping into a vast, ancient knowledge.
"The world you're going to," she said slowly, "is one born of primal forces. Magic there is not an academic construct—it is living essence, raw and unruly. There are five dominant currents of magic, each one tied to a living principle: Flame, Stone, Sky, Spirit… and Blood."
She stepped closer, her voice like a drumbeat in his chest.
"Flame consumes. Stone endures. Sky reveals. Spirit binds. But Blood… Blood transforms."
Alex blinked, absorbing every word.
"So, blood magic is… different?"
Velmora nodded.
"Blood Magic is feared. Outlawed. Misunderstood. It is not taught—it is felt. It comes at a price. You give to receive. You suffer to gain. It reshapes the world not through command… but through sacrifice."
It's alchemical, Alex thought. Transactional. Dangerous. Perfect.
"And this world," he asked. "What's its name?"
Velmora's eyes darkened briefly, shimmering like storm clouds filled with wine.
"Velrath," she said. "A fractured continent of old gods and newer wars. A place where kings fall to mages, and where blood, even now, whispers beneath the soil. The people of Velrath revere the elements… but they fear the veins."
Alex smirked.
"Sounds like home already."
Velmora smiled, amused.
"Then go, my Crimson Star."
She lifted her hand, and the air trembled. A crimson aura coiled around her fingers like sentient mist. The ocean stilled. Above, the red stars flared.
A glowing magic circle ignited beneath Alex's feet—etched with blood sigils and radiant veins of energy. It spun slowly, gaining speed.
Alex looked to her one last time. "See you around, Goddess."
Velmora nodded, her voice a whisper of prophecy. "Make the world yours… and devour it, my Crimson Star."
The light intensified, engulfing him.
Then—
He vanished.
A few minutes later…
A magic circle flared to life in the heart of a dense forest—lush, green, breathtaking in its wild serenity. Sunlight streamed through towering canopies. Mist clung to emerald moss. Flowers pulsed with soft bioluminescence, their petals catching the light like living jewels. Strange birds chirped from high branches, and distant animal calls echoed across the foliage.
Then—
Alex appeared in the center of the circle, his form gradually phasing into reality as crimson light poured away from him like fog being pulled back.
He stood tall, still shirtless, the blood markings faint on his skin, glowing softly in rhythm with his heartbeat. His crimson eyes scanned the treetops, the canopy, the forest floor.
The magic circle beneath him spun a final time and vanished without a trace.
He took a breath. The air was fresh, ancient, and alive.
"…Velrath," he whispered. "So this is the world that fears the veins."
He turned in a slow circle, taking in every detail—the shimmering flora, the distant murmur of water, the otherworldly beauty of it all.
"It's perfect," he murmured. "Let's begin my new adventure."
His feet moved forward, steps deliberate, as if claiming the land beneath him.
And with that, Alex walked into the unknown.
The forest whispered with ancient life as Alex Mercer walked beneath its towering emerald canopy. Shafts of sunlight pierced the leaves in golden columns, lighting his blood-marked skin as he moved forward through mossy underbrush and winding roots.
Birdsong danced above, and distant rustling hinted at creatures unseen. The world felt alive, magical, mysterious.
Alex breathed in deep.
This place… it's more vivid than any dream I've ever had. I can feel the magic in the air—like pressure under my skin. But what exactly did I gain? I need to figure out what I'm working with.
He stopped walking, looking around cautiously before muttering under his breath.
"When I was a kid," he said, chuckling softly, "I read so many damn isekai manga. The protagonists would always shout… 'Open status.'"
He raised a brow and, half-joking, mumbled, "Open status."
Suddenly—
A chime echoed in the air.
A shimmering red screen, tinged with pulsating veins of blood, bloomed before his eyes. Words glowed in crimson script, neatly organized in living veins of energy.
Alex stared.
"…Holy shit. It worked."
STATUS
Name: Alex Mercer
Age: 24
Race: Human (Blood-Touched)
Level: 1
Class: Blood Mage
Titles: Crimson Star, Chosen of Velmora, One Who Bled for Power, Forbidden Heir to the Veincraft
Health Points: 180 / 180
Magic Points: 420 / 420
Strength: 14
Agility: 18
Endurance: 15
Mana: 430
Luck: 11
Charm: 22
Blood Resonance: 35% (Hidden Stat – Increases with certain actions)
Normal Skills:
Field Awareness – Mild sensory boost to movement and direction in natural terrain.
Blood Instinct (Passive) – Can sense lifeforms with active blood within a 20-meter radius.
Appraisal – Analyze and identify targets, items, monsters, and magical effects. Can reveal hidden stats at higher levels.
Survivor's Instinct – Boosts reflexes and defense when HP is below 30%.
Blood Sense (Passive) – Detects heartbeats and life sources within 20 meters.
Ability Skills:
Hemokinesis – Manipulate external blood to form shapes or weapons.
Vital Drain – Convert enemy HP into MP or healing through contact or ranged tether.
Blood Coagulate – Solidify blood instantly into armor or terrain spikes.
Blood Echo Step – Teleport a short distance using a trail of spilled blood.
Crimson Strike – Channel blood energy into your next melee attack, dealing magic-infused damage.
Blood Bind – Harden spilled blood into bindings to restrain enemies.
Magic Blood Skills:
Blood Shield – Defensive spell forming a barrier of swirling blood.
Blood Needle – Fire pressurized crimson spikes from mid-air.
Red Chain Bind – Conjure ethereal chains of blood to immobilize or choke targets.
Vein Echo – Sense hidden enemies, traps, and weak points via magical blood pulses.
Scarlet Shardstorm – Launches a spray of blood fragments in a cone-shaped blast.
Blood Mirror – Reflects one projectile or spell by instantly forming a reflective blood shield.
Hemorrhage Curse – Inflicts magical wound that causes the target to bleed profusely over time.
Unique Skills:
Velmora's Blessing (Passive) – All blood magic cast by Alex gains +20% efficiency.
Overblood (Active – 1/day) – For 30 seconds, magic costs are halved, and blood spells ignore resistance.
Living Grimoire (Passive) – Automatically records, mutates, and upgrades spells based on emotional intensity and battle exposure.
Sacrificial Rewrite (Locked) – Can rewrite one skill or stat by sacrificing HP or permanent memory (???).
Scarlet Anomaly (Hidden) – Immune to detection-type divination magic. Status screens of others display false readings when scanned.
Weapons:
Bloodforged Dagger (Cursed – Bound) – A ritual blade gifted by Velmora.
Adds blood affinity to basic attacks
Can store blood to power spells
Whispers in the user's mind…
Items:
Beginner's Satchel (Dimensional Pocket)
Alex blinked. "Okay… wow. That's a hell of a skill list."
He scanned the screen again, slowly nodding.
Blood Instinct. Hemokinesis. Vital Drain. Mirror spells? Cursed dagger? Living Grimoire? This isn't just power—it's evolution. Adaptation. It's… me.
He smirked.
"Yeah… I'm not the same scientist poking cells under a microscope anymore."
With a flick of thought, the screen faded into crimson mist.
Alex glanced up at the sunlit forest path ahead.
"Let's begin," he said.
And he walked forward—into fate, into danger, into the unknown.
To be continued...