The carriage door opened wide, releasing a stifling stench amid the line of carriages along the old brick road in the vast hall beneath the ancient site.
All around, people collapsed in grotesque fashion.
Many writhed and clawed at the hard ground, scraping it in uncontrollable spasms, their screams echoing curses of agony.
Victor ascended the small metal steps and let himself sink against the patterned velvet seat.
Despite the lavish interior—the bright glow of crystal lamps without direction, the foldable dining table, the animal-skin rug cushioning each step, every detail meant to satisfy extravagance—
—the opposite seat carried only a solemn air that drew his focus to the pair sitting there.
Two young women in elegant dresses sat with reserved grace.
The gaze of Princess Retina locked with Victor's shadowed eyes. Within her deep stare, reaching even to the faint neural twitches of her ocular muscles, there gleamed a fractured, unnatural reflection, as though in broken glass. She smiled when she noticed Victor's careful scrutiny after taking his seat.
"Welcome, Lord Victor Weber. At my side sits my blood sister, Ratina Verndirith."
Victor's face stiffened.
The woman from that night… Impossible. She cannot be her blood sister, not from what was spoken then… Or is this the notion of a pure bloodline?
Yet acts between the same sex cannot count, for they bear no offspring…
Loneliness… obsession… whatever it is, those eyes…
Victor realized Ratina's gaze had not wavered once. It was not the forced consequence of seating arrangements—it was deliberate, piercing directly into his own eyes.
The carriage began to move, yet both women's presence denied him peace of mind.
"How do you feel about today's festival? Do you have any questions? It seems you pay particular attention to Ratina's face," Retina asked lightly.
"My deepest apologies, Your Highness. It is common for men to be impolite, overcome by admiration toward women, perhaps even to the point of discomfort."
His throat tightened as he swallowed hard. Muscles tensed, prepared to reach for his gun if need be.
But first—one question burned in his mind.
"Why was the name of the First Blood Emperor not spoken in the closing ceremony?"
"A covenant," Retina replied. "The bloodline of the Blood Empire is forbidden to utter it. That is all that can be said."
Victor fell silent, an old memory surfacing. He recalled searching the Emperor's desk and finding stacks of preserved papers.
One of them—The Blood Dragon Covenant. Surely there were more, binding the Empire with countless obligations.
It showed the evolution of blood miracles. While the common folk treated blood as something tangible—crafted into objects, substances to be held—the Emperor had broken that boundary, ascending into the realm of the profound.
Victor theorized: a covenant of blood. If interpreted through the lens of a world of vast knowledge, where education was a fundamental right, the conclusion was chilling.
Perhaps the Emperor could feed on lives without lifting a hand.
Perhaps he could command broken armies, drive them mad in blood-fueled frenzy, stripping citizens of will, thought, and freedom itself—through the blood of the Empire.
That was all Victor could infer.
"Forgive me," Retina said, her tone soft yet pointed. "I am curious—how were you able to recover so quickly from what just happened?"
Victor smirked, interlacing his fingers with feigned confidence.
"Because the Republic of Venn never yields when it comes to miracles. It breaks every boundary, fuels its industries, and reshapes mankind toward perfection in every direction."
Ratina clapped lightly, smiling with genuine warmth. Her eyes shone with sincerity, lashes fanning open, lips gleaming crimson under the light, her voice gentle, deliberate, unhurried.
The response left Victor unsettled.
But Retina herself remained impassive. Her expression was blank, absent of deceit—her hand resting calmly on Ratina's thigh.
It was a stark contrast. In every other conversation with her, her face had been painted with smiles and feigned spirit.
"That was well said," Retina continued. "But who exactly are you, Lord Victor?"
The wheels jolted, shadows flickered as the flame in the crystal lamp extinguished in an instant.
In that silence, only a few minutes later, the weight of her question lingered.
"…So you won't answer."