In another part of the Blood Valley, someone in black was walking such that each step was the same as the other; he stopped when he came to the high gate appearing in front of him. This gate, formed by iron bars lined up side by side, was joining the high walls coming from two sides. The concave detail at the top and the elegant embroideries on the bars were saying that the gate was a product of high taste.
He extended his hand and pushed the gate slowly; the two-winged gate began to open, letting out a thin whine. Five steps away from the person entering, another was waiting for him. The gaze of the man dressed in black from head to toe was dull.
"This is private property; leave immediately!"
"I want to see your master!"
Two emotionless voices went back and forth, but they couldn't reach an agreement apparently. thereupon, the person in the area where the gate opened drew his sword. While the moonlight illuminated its cutting edge, the target of the weapon was none other than Jashua.
"I don't want to get into an unnecessary fight; inform your master that I have arrived. If he doesn't want to meet, I will leave, but if you intend to use force, I won't hold back either!"
The Young Count brought the giant weapon appearing in his hand in front of him; he and the metal weapon resembling a long stick were almost the same height.
"My master hasn't stooped so low as to meet with the likes of you. I am saying for the last time; leave this place!"
This became the last conversation between the duo; now tongues would be silent, weapons would clash. As the sword of the man in black was wrapped in blood energy, it turned red; it resembled a torch burning in the bosom of the night.
Unlike him, the Young Count's weapon disappeared into the darkness; in their first clash, such an image formed that it was as if the sword was trying to cut the darkness but couldn't succeed.
Weapons continued to meet; Jashua hadn't transferred his energy to his metallic stick, but he didn't refrain from using another technique. He was attacking with sonic booms; his opponent's blood energy dispersed with every blow, which allowed the Young Count to have the upper hand in the fight as time passed.
Half an hour later, one knee of the man pointing his broken sword at Jashua was on the ground. Someone else might have stopped here, but the Young Count didn't; lifting his weapon, he delivered the final blow. When the man, flying like a kite whose string was cut, fell ten steps away, his consciousness was no longer with him.
Jashua, lifting his head, started advancing towards the structure visible from afar. He needed to travel a bit more to reach the mansion with all its lights on.
"Stop!"
Before a hundred breaths passed, another stood in front of him; the gaze of the woman wearing a black battle suit was on the weapon in Jashua's hand.
"Leave this place immediately!"
This time the Young Count didn't speak; taking the initiative, he carried out his attack, but his opponent seemed to be expecting this too. While the daggers creating sparks as they slid over his long weapon headed towards his throat, Jashua pushed the woman back taking a step forward.
Against the opponent using her speed and agility, the Young Count maintained his stance at the center. Although he seemed to retreat into defense, he was looking for an opening to attack. He found this after a long time too; while a new one was added to the cuts on his clothes, Jashua dropped his weapon and ruthlessly slammed the woman he caught with both hands to the ground.
With the effect of the sonic boom added to his brute strength, the crack forming on the ground spread to a distance of five steps. If her ragged breaths weren't heard, it wouldn't be difficult to think the woman was dead. Jashua continued without looking back; although his clothes became miserable after the second battle, there was no injury on his body.
Ten minutes later another came, after passing him another one. When Jashua arrived at the mansion's door, he had fought with six people and managed to defeat them all. The blood splashing on him mixed with his own; his worn-out body was far from its best state.
When he knocked the heavy metal knocker on the rosewood door, he prepared his weapon; whatever came his way, he wouldn't turn back from this path and would fight to the death.
"Welcome, Jashua!"
A woman complementing the light emitted by the white hair adorning her shoulders with her smile opened the door. This person, looking in her fifties, invited the Young Count into the mansion. Jashua's hands and feet were trembling; his body, concentrated on the battle with all its cells, suddenly emptied.
"I know what is passing through your mind, but have no worries. He wants to see you too!"
Jashua and the old woman, proceeding from the steps starting as separate stairs and meeting on the second floor, opened the winged door of the first room appearing before them and entered. The long dining table was waiting for them; the eyes of the old man sitting at the end met the Young Count's eyes.
The man looked as if he was standing one step behind death; the air added by the deep lines on his face gave a dignified yet sad feeling. The old woman pointed to the empty chair at the other end with her hand; the steaming food seemed to be waiting for Jashua.
Jashua didn't sit; after the old woman moved next to the man, he advanced towards them and fell to his knees. His forehead was touching the ground; while the old man's eyes became moist, two words spilled from Jashua's mouth.
"Founding Sheikh!"
Bowing his head three times and touching his forehead to the ground, Jashua then got up and sat in his place at the table; he had found the person calling him here. It was impossible not to find him; a place inside him was dragging him here, he was like fireflies running to the light.
The Founding Sheikh didn't speak. It was very obvious he didn't speak not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't have the strength to do so. The old woman took out the spoon she dipped into the soup and put it into the man's mouth; he was being fed even his food by someone else.
Despite this, the woman wasn't complaining at all; her energy was shining like someone living the happiest moments of her life. Jashua, starting his meal without asking questions, held himself back despite the sadness settling in his heart; he knew the answers would come to him.
The meal didn't last long; everyone was finished before ten minutes passed, and now it was time for the Young Count to get answers to his questions. Before he could speak, the old woman started talking; she knew Jashua's purpose.
"You are wondering about this state of the person who founded the Holy Blood Sect, aren't you? I can't give you a satisfying answer; what you need to know is that a wound received from a very powerful enemy caused all this."
Since a part of the Founding Sheikh's power was inside him, Jashua was aware of his might; well then, who was this powerful enemy?
"You came to receive the Area Master's grace, but you have one last test to pass. After completing this too, your wish will come true!"
After the old woman's words, silence reigned in the dining room for ten breaths; immediately after, Jashua attempted to speak, but the sound coming from the garden lined the words up in his throat.
"Lowborn called Jashua, come out!"
The woman throwing her white hair towards her neck with a graceful hand movement slowly got up and grabbed the handles behind the Founding Sheikh's chair. After Jashua understood what was going on, he stood up, opened the window of the dining room, and let himself down.
When he fell to the ground, he saw hundreds of people in front of him; two people stood in front of the crowd. A long-haired man wearing a robe with fur collars and a girl shining with her snow-white skin were leading the others.
"Bloody Star Norte, Bloody River Corriente!"
Jashua knew the arrivals very well; how could someone looking forward to encountering his enemies not know who they were? In these moments, the old woman pushed the Founding Sheikh's wheelchair and went out the door; they were watching what happened from Jashua's right rear.
"Who are these two geezers? After I finish my business with you, I will take care of them too!"
Norte continued speaking in a high tone, but the old woman's laughter echoed in the whole area. She was laughing such that tones of pain, hatred, anger, and disdain were intertwined, scratching the ears.
"Since I haven't seen the outside world, insects started talking, rats started speaking. I wonder very much if you can do what you said!"
The old woman lifted her hands from the handle of the wheelchair and started drawing shapes in the void; at first moments, those inside the crowd thought she was crazy, but a few breaths later, seeing the blood-colored formation surrounding them, they started fleeing in panic.