With the unsettling encounter behind him, Cedar made his way back to the supply room, where his new uniform and staff awaited.
Along with these essentials was a set of gear tailored to his rank. The capital's armory spared no expense for field sergeants, providing him with enchanted equipment crafted for both durability and efficiency.
The new military uniform was a testament to the Union's blend of functionality and magic. The field sergeant's jacket, tailored from durable, mana-infused fabric, fit snugly to allow freedom of movement while offering protection.
Its deep gray color gave it a sleek, commanding presence, and faint rune-like patterns stitched along the seams provided basic resistance against elemental magic.
Underneath, a light chest plate was concealed, crafted from a magically reinforced alloy. Though thin and flexible, it was tough enough to deflect most shrapnel or stray spells.
The trousers, made from the same material as the jacket, were reinforced at the knees and lined with subtle charms to ward off fatigue during prolonged marches or battles.
The highlight of the ensemble, however, was the staff issued to officers.
It was a sleek, polished weapon—crafted from a combination of magical imbued metal—that felt perfectly balanced in the hand. At its tip was a glowing crimson mana crystal, faintly pulsing like a heartbeat.
When he stepped out, Ivan was already waiting for him. The talkative mage gave him a wry smile, his sharp eyes immediately noticing the subtle change in Cedar's demeanor. "Looks like someone's ready to take on the world," Ivan remarked, crossing his arms.
Cedar smirked faintly but remained silent, his newfound confidence radiating in his expression. This was what he had always strived for.
"This calls for a celebration!" Ivan exclaimed, his grin stretching even wider. "I know a family restaurant that serves the best meat ham you'll ever have. It's on me."
"Sounds good. Lead the way," Cedar replied, his smile softening. Without hesitation, the two followed the call of their rumbling stomachs, the prospect of a hearty meal fueling their steps.
…
Meanwhile, far away, deep within the labyrinthine corridors of an underground castle hidden beneath the grand halls of an ancient mansion, tension hung thick in the air.
Asher strode into the shadowy main hall, his expression grim. The flickering light of the torches lining the walls cast long shadows across the room, illuminating a figure leaning lazily against a pillar—a boy with jet-black hair and mischievous eyes.
Krieger, despite his youthful appearance, radiated the same predatory aura as Asher. His smirk was as mocking as ever.
"Asher, my dear, you look dreadful," he teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Shut up, Krieger," Asher snapped, his sharp glare silencing the boy. "I need to speak with Master Orcus."
The smirk disappeared immediately, replaced by a serious expression on his face.
Both understood the risk of waking their master from his slumber. For centuries, an unspoken rule had kept them cautious. If Asher was willing to take that risk, it could only mean one thing: the situation was dire.
Falling into step beside him, Krieger asked in a low voice, "What happened?"
Asher's jaw tightened, his eyes shadowed with frustration and a flicker of fear. "It's Len," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's here."
Krieger froze mid-step, disbelief washing over his face. "Len? Impossible! After the injuries he sustained in the Dusk War, it's a miracle he survived at all. How could he have regained enough strength to return so soon?"
"I don't know," Asher admitted, his tone grim. "But it's not just that—he's training a bloody vessel. A new one. And he's planning to use our war to hone his weapon."
Krieger's eyes widened, shock replacing his usual cocky demeanor. "A bloody vessel? That's… impossible. Every bloody vessel from Len's era has long since perished, and any new ones are strictly monitored by the Council from birth."
"And yet," Asher said darkly, "he has one. I've seen it with my own eyes. Len's preparing for The Game, and this vessel is his newest pawn. We need to inform Master Orcus. Now."
Their conversation ended as they arrived before a massive set of iron doors. The towering black surface was intricately engraved with carvings of a monstrous beast, each line thrumming faintly with magic older than the castle itself. The weight of the air grew heavier, as if warning them to reconsider.
Krieger hesitated, his voice trembling slightly. "Are you sure about this? Do you really think he'll want to wake for this?"
Asher didn't hesitate. "Len's return demands it. Whatever Master Orcus decides, we need his guidance."
With a groan of ancient metal, the massive doors creaked open, revealing the icy darkness within. The frigid air sent shivers through their undead bodies, a harbinger of the power that slumbered within.
As the doors shut behind them, they approached the centerpiece of the chamber—a colossal blood pool, glowing with an ominous crimson light. Magical rune lines extended from the pool like veins, pulsating with life.
Without hesitation, Asher and Krieger raised their hands, digging deep into their flesh. Rivers of dark red, gleaming blood streamed down their arms, spilling directly into the pool.
A suffocating pressure suddenly descended upon the room, forcing both vampires to their knees. From the depths of the blood pool, a figure began to emerge.
Muscular and imposing, the being's body was etched with black, glowing tattoos of ancient magic circles. Crimson eyes burned with unrelenting intensity, and his dark yellow hair glistened with an eerie, unnatural sheen.
Asher and Krieger immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in submission.
"Why do you awaken me?" Orcus asked, his deep voice calm yet laced with unmistakable authority.
"Master Orcus," Asher began, his voice steady despite the pressure weighing him down. "Len has entered the area."
Orcus raised a brow, his crimson gaze narrowing slightly. "Continue."
"One of our baits in the capital was taken, so I investigated myself. That's when I encountered a wild bloody vessel, unregistered by the Council. But upon closer inspection, I realized it wasn't a stray—Len has trained it."
"So, Len has awakened from his slumber," Orcus murmured, his fingers brushing his chin as he fell into thought.
"What should we do, Master?" Krieger asked, his voice betraying a hint of unease.
"Has he shown any hostility?" Orcus inquired.
"No, Master," Asher reported, carefully omitting the part where Len had humiliated him. Among vampires, such dominance games were commonplace, and the strong always had the right to suppress and humiliate the weak. "He mentioned wanting to speak with you directly."
Orcus's eyes narrowed further. "I will report this to the other members of the Council myself. For now, keep a close eye on him and his bloody vessel—but do not provoke him."
"Should we inform the others and place the Dominion on high alert?" Krieger asked.
"Inform them, yes. But there is no need for heightened security," Orcus replied. "Without 'L' and the other members of the Circus, Len is harmless. Remember, he is a vampire first and foremost. Emperor or not, we, the Crimson Dominion, are his most reliable allies in this new world."
"It's likely that he intends to use the mortal war and Amelia's Rose Arena to sharpen his pawn. We'll let him play his games—for now."
"Understood, Master," Asher and Krieger said in unison, bowing once more.
The faint crimson glow of the blood pool flared brighter, casting their bowed forms in a deep, foreboding light. Orcus's presence loomed over them like an unspoken warning, his gaze distant but calculating.
…
Back in the military training grounds, Cedar and Ivan wasted no time diving back into their rigorous regimen after finishing their meal.
Cedar's third circle had reached a remarkable level of stability, far surpassing its strength when he had first broken through.
"We're making great progress," Ivan remarked, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as their training session drew to a close. "At this pace, the fourth circle might be closer than we anticipated."
Cedar nodded, feeling the surge of power resonating within his mana core. It was steady, relentless, and brimming with potential.
With Len's plan beginning to take shape, Cedar couldn't help but notice how much faster his progress had become—far surpassing anything he had achieved before.
Unlike others, he didn't need to spend endless time perfecting and mastering a single type of complex magic for the fourth circle ritual. He had already gained the knowledge of Black Storm Magic from the vision of August Zar.