The vehicles generated a series of cracking sounds as they passed over the fallen leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. The golden hues of the autumn foliage, now turning to shades of amber and russet, blanketed the ground in a mesmerizing display.
The dense forest amplified the sense of isolation, broken only by the rumble of engines and the occasional snap of brittle twigs.
Halfway through the morning, Cedar sat at the back of the troop carrier alongside the rest of his squad.
His attention was focused inward, on his mana spiral, when an unexpected sensation jolted through him. His heartbeat quickened for a fleeting moment, a feeling he couldn't ignore.
Ivan, sitting nearby, froze as well. He felt it too—a strange and powerful connection, eerily similar to the sensation they had experienced when Len had bound them with his magic.
But this time, it was different. This connection reached far higher, linking them to a vast, unfathomable existence.
From this bond, they both felt an energy—a steady, unyielding flow coursing directly into their mana cores from an unknown source.
For Cedar, who had struggled with his breakthrough for days, the moment was transformative. He felt a sudden clarity as if a veil had been lifted. His spiral formed naturally, harmonizing with the influx of mana now filling his core.
Cedar's and Ivan's gazes met, their expressions a mirror of shock and realization. They spoke in unison, their voices trembling:
"The Lord!"
"The Lord!"
As the energy continued to flow, so did information. It was a revelation, a flood of knowledge about the true king of all vampires—the Crimson Overlord, Willhem. The invisible bond they shared with Len branched further, stretching toward a dim and distant fragment of Willhem himself.
The connection felt faint, blurred as if the great entity barely existed in the present world.
Then the reason for the dimness became clear.
A figure materialized before them, not in the flesh, but as a projection.
His long black hair fell past his shoulders, and his pale skin gleamed faintly under an unseen light. His crimson eyes, sharp and commanding, gazed down at them with an undeniable authority. It was Len.
"Change of plans, servants," Len said calmly, his voice steady yet firm. "I've rejoined the Crimson Dominion and established a connection to the Bloody Heart—Willhem's heart, as you may now understand his existence."
He paused briefly, his expression unwavering. "I will be away for some time. I've made arrangements with the Dominion for your next steps after you return from the transportation mission. Continue your training as I've instructed and planned, and do not, under any circumstances, tamper with the grimoire. There's maybe more to it that I didn't realize."
Before they could respond, the projection vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. No questions answered, no explanations offered—only the lingering weight of his words.
Cedar and Ivan exchanged a meaningful glance. They nodded silently, an unspoken agreement to discuss this later, in private.
Later that night, the soldiers were cleaning up after dinner. Not very surprising, the meal—a ration soup—offered little to discuss. The concoction of dried rations and boiled water, barely seasoned, served its purpose and little else.
"What do you make of all this?" Ivan asked, breaking the silence.
Cedar, rinsing bowls under a stream of water, glanced at him. "We're part of the Crimson Dominion now, like it or not. But don't get too attached. Len warned us—this Dominion isn't just another faction. They're an ancient force from the Old Magic era. If anyone's behind the chaos of this war, it's them."
Ivan nodded. "Agreed. I wouldn't trust Len either if not for the contract magic binding us to him. And then there's the grimoire…"
Cedar frowned. "Yeah, him bringing it up out of nowhere was… odd. Think it's tied to your ancestor somehow? He did say it's used to belong to an elf."
"Probably," Ivan muttered, scratching his head. "Still, I'd rather not mess with the old creepy thing. Knowing our luck, it might explode."
Cedar chuckled. "It's a book, Ivan, not a bomb."
Their banter was cut short by an irritated voice. "Could you two stop chattering and finish your part already? You're taking ages to wash a few bowls." Lugh scowled, arms crossed as he waited impatiently.
"Right, right. My bad," Cedar replied, hurriedly rinsing the bowls.
Once finished, the two returned to the tent. Most of the squad had already settled in for the night. Campell and Anabelle were reclining in their sleeping bags, chatting quietly, while Rogan was on night watch and Lugh was finishing his tasks outside.
"I didn't realize we were hosting a girls' night," Ivan teased, tossing himself into his sleeping bag.
"What's the topic?" Cedar asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Little Campell here was about to share some insight of his love story," Anabelle grinned, clearly enjoying the conversation. "But first, you two have to swear to keep it secret. Like I did."
"Oh, sign me up!" Ivan declared dramatically, raising a hand. "I, Ivan the Grand Ultimate Supreme Mage, solemnly swear to carry this dark secret to my grave."
Cedar smirked, mimicking him. "And I, Cedar the Great Omnipotent True King, do hereby vow to guard this information with my life until…" He jabbed his finger toward the ground. "THE GRAVE!"
The group erupted in laughter, Anabelle shaking her head as Cedar's theatrics mimicked Ivan's earlier antics.
"Come on now," she said, suppressing her giggles. "Don't overdo it, or you'll make him too shy to talk."
Campell's cheeks flushed crimson as he fidgeted with the edge of his sleeping bag. "It's not really a love story... more like... uh, something embarrassing."
Anabelle leaned in closer, her eyes alight with excitement. "Oh, come on, Campell. You can't stop now. You've already got us hooked!"
Campell sighed, glancing hesitantly at the others. "Fine... but promise not to laugh too much."
Cedar chuckled, raising a hand. "Scout's honor."
Ivan smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. "Sworn to secrecy. Totally."
Campell took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Back in school, when I was in my second year, there was this first-year girl. I noticed her on the first day—she wasn't just pretty; she was... something else."
"I bet it wasn't just you," Ivan interjected knowingly. "Probably half the school had their eyes on her."
Campell nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, she was popular. Even the older students tried to hit on her."
Anabelle clapped her hands together, practically bouncing in place. "And? What happened next?"
Campell looked down, his voice barely audible. "One day, I was passing by, too busy staring at her to watch where I was going... and I tripped. Face first. Into a puddle. Right in front of her."
The tent exploded with laughter. Even Cedar, who had sworn not to mock, couldn't hold back. Ivan laughed so hard he nearly rolled out of his sleeping bag.
Campell buried his face in his hands, groaning. "I knew this was a bad idea."
Anabelle wiped a tear from her eye, her grin wide. "Oh, Campell, that's adorable! What did she say after that?"
Campell peeked out from between his fingers. "She helped me up... and laughed, of course, but not in a mean way. She actually apologized, saying she wasn't trying to insult me. Then, to my shock, she asked if I wanted to go for a walk with her."
"Lucky boy," Anabelle teased, her tone light.
Campell's expression softened, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. "We grew close after that. She'd drag me along for shopping trips, insist we grab coffee together, and even showed up at one of my football games to cheer me on. I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship, so I never confessed. But before I left for the army, she gave me this for luck."
He reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out a small, well-worn trinket—a silver pendant shaped like a pigeon. "I carry it with me everywhere."
For a moment, the group fell quiet. The earlier laughter faded, replaced by warm, contemplative smiles as they absorbed the weight of Campell's words.
Cedar was the first to break the silence, his tone filled with admiration. "You've got guts, Campell. Not everyone can get that close to someone like her. That says a lot about you."
Ivan chuckled softly, a knowing grin playing on his lips. "Yeah, and with charm like that? Maybe she was into you too, just too shy to admit it. Ever think of that possibility?"
Cedar raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but playful. "Why would that be? Isn't it the guy's job to confess first?"
Ivan smirked, leaning back casually. "Come on, Cedar, don't be so old-fashioned. Times have changed. But still, you're the one who's gotta take the lead here, Campell. We're all rooting for you on this."
Campell's face turned crimson, his shy smile struggling against the embarrassment of the attention. "Thanks, guys. That means a lot."
Anabelle, as if unable to tolerate the growing sentimentality, clapped her hands together with a burst of her usual energy. "Alright, who's next? Someone else has to have a story worth sharing! Don't let Campell hog all the spotlight!"
Cedar and Ivan exchanged a quick glance before Ivan shook his head. "Not me. My life's been... complicated. Romance wasn't exactly on the agenda."
Cedar opened his mouth to speak but stopped, his hand trembling ever so slightly before he grinned mischievously, deflecting. "Same here. No time for romance when you're busy being the Great Omnipotent All-Knowing Grand Supreme True King, you know."
Anabelle rolled her eyes. "You're both hopeless. No fun at all!"
But instead of laughter, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Liar."
"What?!" Cedar whipped his head around, startled. Emerging from the shadows was Lugh, smirking like a fox who'd cornered its prey.
"Come on," Lugh said, crossing his arms. "It's too obvious. You think we haven't noticed your sad puppy eyes? Campell shared his part, so now it's your turn."
"Hey! How long have you been listening?" Ivan questioned, narrowing his eyes.
"The whole time," Lugh replied smugly. "And lucky for me, I didn't promise secrecy which would only make me half a jerk when I tell everyone about this. Imagine what would happen if everyone at school found out little Campell here was dating Alicia Heartfell. You'd be torn apart by the boys."
Campell's face turned pale at the name, while Cedar sputtered. "What?! That's not—"
"Save it," Lugh cut him off, his smirk widening. "If you're truly innocent, then there's no reason to stop me from talking, right?"
"I-I..." Campell faltered, completely speechless.
Anabelle rolled her eyes. "You two are impossible. Leave the poor guy alone. Storytime isn't over." She turned to Campell with mock seriousness. "Although, if you ever want to ambush Lugh in the forest and leave him for the bears, I won't stop you."
But before she could start pushing Cedar, a sharp whistle pierced the air outside the tent. Everyone stiffened, their relaxed demeanor vanishing in an instant. Cedar was the first to grab his boots, slipping them on with practiced speed.
The group exchanged quick glances. Lugh's smirk faded as his expression turned serious. "That's Rogan's alarm signal."