Darian Bancroft mmed his fist onto the ornate table, causing the crystal decanter to rattle precariously.


    "Six of my best men. Six!" His voice echoed through the chamber, reflecting the fury in his eyes. "Strung up likemon criminals at our own gates!"


    Emerson Holmes stood a careful distance away, his posture rigid with tension. "The ck-Robed Reaper is bing more brazen, sir."


    "Reaper?" Bancroft spat the word. "Don''t use that ridiculous name. It only feeds the legend."


    I pressed closer to the venttion shaft, careful to mask my spiritual energy. After my disyst night, security had tightened throughout the Guild headquarters, but they still hadn''t discovered all my listening posts.


    "What do our intelligence reports say?" Bancroft demanded, pouring himself a generous measure of amber liquid.


    Emerson cleared his throat. "Our analysts believe he''s specifically targeting the Blood Heir program. The timing of his attacks coincides with—"


    "I know what he''s after," Bancroft interrupted, draining his ss in one swallow. "He wants the Ashworth girl."


    "That would suggest it really is Liam Knight, sir."


    Bancroft''s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Knight is dead."


    "With respect, sir," Emerson ventured carefully, "we never recovered a body."


    "Because there was nothing left to recover!" Bancroft hurled his empty ss against the wall, where it shattered spectacrly. "What are you suggesting, Holmes? That a lowly Third-Circle cultivator survived abined attack from three Martial Marquises and somehow, in mere months, gained enough power to ughter our elite forces?"


    Emerson remained silent, wisely choosing not to argue.


    "Whoever this impostor is," Bancroft continued, "he''s well-informed about our operations. That means we have a leak."


    I smiled beneath my mask. Let them waste time hunting for traitors within their ranks.


    "What''s our next move, sir?" Emerson asked.


    Bancroft paced the length of the room. "Set a trap. Use the new Blood Heir as bait."


    "The Warren girl? But sir, she''s scheduled for initial extraction tonight."


    "Perfect timing. Leak the information. Make sure our ck-robed friend learns exactly when and where the transfer will happen."


    Emerson frowned. "With respect, are we prepared for such a confrontation? If this attacker could eliminate six of our best—"


    "We''ll be ready this time," Bancroft interrupted. "I''ll personally oversee the security arrangements."


    I''d heard enough. Slipping away from my hiding spot, I made my way through the narrow maintenance tunnels that honebed the Guildplex. Bancroft was nning a trap, which meant I needed to adjust my strategy.


    The obvious move would be to rescue Eliza Warren during transport. They would expect that. But what they wouldn''t expect was for me to be in two ces at once.


    ---


    Hourster, I stood in a dimly lit chamber deep beneath the Guild headquarters, watching as Dominic Ashworth was led into the room by two stone-faced attendants.


    "Everything is prepared, Young Master Ashworth," one said with a deferential bow.


    Dominic''s eyes gleamed with anticipation as they settled on therge, ornate bathtub in the center of the room. Steam rose from its surface, carrying a distinctly metallic smell that turned my stomach.


    The door opened again, and Darian Bancroft entered.


    "Ah, right on time," he said, nodding to Dominic. "Are you prepared for the procedure?"


    "I''ve been ready for weeks," Dominic replied, already removing his outer robe. "How fresh is the supply?"


    My jaw clenched as Bancroft smiled. "Extracted this morning. The Ashworth girl remains our most potent source."


    Isabelle. My Isabelle. I fought to control my rage, focusing on my mission. I couldn''t save her yet—not until I knew exactly where they were keeping her. But soon.


    "Excellent," Dominic said, stepping toward the tub. "I want maximum potency."


    "Remember," Bancroft cautioned, "the process will be painful. The more concentrated the blood, the more intense the reaction."


    Dominic sneered. "Pain is temporary. Power is forever."


    First published on *.


    As he disrobedpletely, I noted the cultivation marks already visible on his skin—evidence of previous "treatments." He lowered himself into the tub, and I couldn''t suppress a shudder at the sight of him immersing himself in what I knew was Isabelle''s blood.


    The moment his body was fully submerged, Dominic''s expression twisted in agony. A scream tore from his throat as his body convulsed violently, sending crimson waves sloshing over the tub''s edge.


    "Hold him steady!" Bancroft ordered the attendants, who rushed forward to restrain Dominic''s thrashing limbs.


    I watched in horrified fascination as Dominic''s skin began to absorb the blood, taking on a reddish hue. Veins bulged across his body, glowing with an unnatural light as the powerful blood integrated with his system.


    His screams continued for nearly twenty minutes before subsiding into ragged gasps. By then, the tub was nearly empty, its contents absorbed into Dominic''s transformed body.


    "How do you feel?" Bancroft asked, leaning over him with clinical interest.


    Dominic''s eyes snapped open, revealing irises that now held a distinct crimson tint. "Powerful," he whispered, flexing his fingers. "More powerful than ever before."


    Bancroft helped him from the tub. "The integration appears sessful. Your body has epted approximately sixty percent of the Ashworth bloodline properties."


    "Sixty percent?" Dominic frowned. "Why not more? Why not the full power like Isabelle has?"


    "Naturalpatibility limitations," Bancroft exined, helping Dominic into a waiting robe. "Your body can only assimte so much of the foreign bloodline before rejection sets in. Sixty percent is actually remarkable—most subjects achieve less than forty."


    "Will I need more treatments?"


    Bancroft nodded. "To maintain and potentially increase the integration, yes. But for now, you possess more of the Ashworth bloodline power than anyone outside Isabelle herself."


    Dominic''s frown deepened. "If she''s so special, why keep her locked away? Why not use her in the field?"


    "Because she''s the source," Bancroft replied. "We can''t risk losing her. Besides, her will is too strong. Even after months of conditioning, she refuses to cooperate."


    My heart swelled with pride at those words. My Isabelle, defiant to the end.


    "Let me speak with her," Dominic suggested. "I could convince her."


    "You''ve tried before," Bancroft reminded him. "She spat in your face, as I recall."


    Dominic''s expression darkened at the memory. "Things are different now. I''m stronger."


    "Focus on mastering your new abilities first," Bancroft advised. "The Ashworth girl isn''t going anywhere."


    Dominic rose from the tub, and I was struck by the transformation. His muscles appeared denser, more defined. His movements held a fluid grace that hadn''t been there before. The blood ritual had clearly enhanced more than just his spiritual energy.


    "How long before I can test these new powers?" he asked, examining his hands with fascination.


    "Take the rest of today to limate," Bancroft instructed. "Tomorrow, you can join the operation to capture the ck-Robed Reaper."


    Dominic''s eyes lit up. "You think he''ll take the bait?"


    "He''s been striking at every aspect of the Blood Heir program. He won''t be able to resist trying to save the Warren girl."


    I continued watching as they discussed tactical details. Dominic''s newfound confidence was concerning. If the blood bath had truly enhanced his abilities as dramatically as it appeared, he could pose a significant threat to my ns.


    As the meeting concluded, Dominic flexed his arms experimentally, a cruel smile spreading across his face.


    "Right now, I feel great. In fact, I''d really like to see what that ck-robed man is capable of..."


    Bancroftughed. "Patience, Dominic. You''ll get your chance tomorrow night."


    "And when I defeat him," Dominic continued, his eyes gleaming with malice, "I want him kept alive long enough to witness what we''ve done with his precious Isabelle."


    My fingers instinctively tightened around my de''s hilt. Soon, very soon, I would make them all pay for what they''d done to her. But first, I needed to ensure Eliza Warren didn''t suffer the same fate.


    As I slipped away from my hiding ce, one thing became abundantly clear: tomorrow night would determine everything. Not just for me and Isabelle, but for Eliza Warren and every other potential Blood Heir in Veridia City.


    I had to seed. Failure wasn''t an option.