Chapter 38: A former Count.

The cool, biting night wind of Border City swept through the abandoned courtyard behind their rented apartment, rustling the overgrown weeds that pushed through the cracked cobblestones.

The high stone walls surrounding the secluded space offered them the absolute privacy they desperately needed.

Lucious stood completely still in the shadows, his broad shoulders leaning casually against a towering stone pillar. His arms were folded neatly across his chest, and his eyes tacked every single violent movement happening in the center of the yard.

A sharp, echoing crack rang out across the courtyard.

Dori moved with the terrifying, fluid speed.

Her midnight-blue tunic blurred as she launched herself forward, her leather boots kicking up a cloud of dust. She swung a heavy, blunt wooden training sword in a devastating horizontal arc, aiming directly for Guinevere’s ribs.

The sheer force behind the blow was enough to shatter solid bone, driven by Dori’s S-rank vampire physiology.

Guinevere did not have the raw physical strength to block it. She was breathing heavily, her dark traveling clothes clinging to her sweat-slicked skin, her purple hair plastered against her pale cheeks.

But she did not try to block.

A split second before Dori even began the swing, Guinevere’s bright eyes flared with a strange, ethereal violet light. Her upgraded A-rank talent, which had once only allowed her to vaguely sense wandering spirits and read the baseline auras of humans, had evolved drastically under the dark blessing of the God Mark.

She could now physically see the flow of intent. A faint, ghostly trail illuminated the exact trajectory of Dori’s wooden blade before the feral girl even swung it.

Guinevere dropped her weight instantly, bending her knees and letting the heavy wooden sword whistle mere inches above her head.

The wind of the missed strike ruffled her hair.

Using the downward momentum, Guinevere pivoted on her heel, her eyes locking onto a small, glowing fracture of light hovering right above Dori’s exposed left knee. It was a structural weakness, a tiny gap in the feral girl’s aggressive stance.

Guinevere thrust her own wooden practice blade upward with a sharp, calculated precision, tapping the exact center of that glowing weak point.

Dori let out a surprised gasp as her leg buckled slightly, her perfect balance entirely disrupted for a fraction of a second.

However, Dori was far too experienced in pure survival to be put down by a simple tap.

Her feral instincts instantly took over. She abandoned her weapon, dropping the wooden sword and spinning her body around with terrifying agility.

She tackled Guinevere straight to the ground, pinning the noblewoman flat against the cold cobblestones with a heavy thud, her small hands firmly gripping Guinevere’s wrists.

"I win again!" Dori announced proudly, her raspy voice echoing in the quiet courtyard. A wide, competitive grin stretched across her pale face as she looked down at the panting noblewoman.

Guinevere let out a long, exhausted sigh, allowing her head to fall back against the stone.

"Yes, you win," Guinevere admitted, her voice lacking its usual haughty edge. She was completely drained, her newly turned vampire body still struggling to adapt to the heavy influx of dark mana. "Your raw speed is just too much to keep up with in a direct clash."

Lucious uncrossed his arms and pushed himself away from the stone pillar. His heavy boots crunched against the loose gravel as he walked toward the center of the yard, looking down at the two girls.

"Let her up, Dori," Lucious commanded smoothly, his deep voice carrying an effortless authority.

Dori immediately obeyed, releasing Guinevere’s wrists and hopping quickly to her feet. She dusted off her tunic and moved to stand right beside her master, looking up at him with expectant, adoring red eyes.

Guinevere groaned softly as she pushed herself off the ground, rubbing the dirt from her dark pants. She looked at Lucious, a flicker of nervous anticipation in her gaze, silently waiting for his harsh judgment.

"Your direct combat skills are severely lacking," Lucious stated coldly, offering absolutely no comfort. "If you were caught in an open battlefield, you would be slaughtered in a matter of minutes."

Guinevere lowered her head, her pale hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"However," Lucious continued, his analytical mind rapidly processing the sparring match he had just witnessed. "You did not try to fight her with brute strength. I saw exactly what you did right before she swung. You predicted her movement, and you targeted a structural weakness in her stance that even she was entirely unaware of."

Guinevere raised her head, blinking in surprise. "I... I can see things now. Before, the spirits only gave me feelings and whispers. But now, with this blood running through my veins, I can see the direct flow of energy. I can see the exact moment a muscle tenses, and I can see the weakest point in a person’s defense glowing right in front of me."

’I see,’ Lucious thought, piecing the tactical puzzle together.’ She is not a front-line warrior like Dori. She is a surgical instrument. With her ability to track energy, predict movements, and identify fatal weaknesses, she is the ultimate assassin. She just needs the right environment to strike from the shadows.’

"You have a highly specialized utility, Guinevere," Lucious said, giving her a slow, calculating nod. "We will adjust your training to focus entirely on stealth and precision."

A small, grateful smile formed on Guinevere’s lips.

The lingering shame of her physical defeat melted away, replaced by a dark, hardening resolve. She was a vampire now, and she was going to use this curse to carve out the hearts of her enemies.

"Take a rest," Lucious instructed, waving a pale hand toward the wooden benches lining the edge of the courtyard. "Both of you. I need to check something."

As the two girls walked over to the benches, Dori immediately pulling out a water skin to drink, Lucious directed his focus to the empty space directly in front of him.

The ethereal blue glow of the system flared to life in his vision, casting a cool, unnatural light over his sharp, stoic features.

He had not yet properly reviewed the rewards he had gained from officially bringing Guinevere into his Faction Grid. Turning an A-rank magic conduit into a Willing Blood Kin was a massive milestone, and the system had been silently hoarding the harvested data in the background until he had the quiet moment to access it.

[System Update: Faction Grid Expanded.]

[Willing Blood Kin Capacity: 2 / 5.]

[Host has successfully converted a high-tier magical conduit. A portion of the target’s unique spiritual resonance has been integrated into the Supreme System.]

[Two new unique skills have been generated from the conversion process.]

Lucious kept his glowing red eyes locked on the floating text as new brackets expanded across his vision.

[Skill Unlocked: Obeisance Sight.]

[Function: By channeling necrotic mana into the eyes, the host can detach their perspective, allowing them to view distant locations, look around solid corners, and peer through physical obstacles within a hundred-meter radius.]

[Skill Unlocked: Sitag.]

[Function: A localized spatial manipulation. The host can instantly pull targeted, inanimate objects directly toward their open hand from a distance. The heavier the object, the higher the mana exertion.]

A slow, deeply predatory smile curved the corner of Lucious’s pale lips.

The sheer utility of these two new abilities was staggering. Obeisance Sight completely eliminated the risk of blind spots, allowing him to scout heavily fortified enemy compounds without ever having to rely on his Mindless Bloods or risk physical exposure. And Sitag offered a level of telekinetic control that could disarm opponents or retrieve vital items in the blink of an eye.

The system text shifted again, bringing up his overall currency.

[Blood Points: 145.]

He had accumulated a massive reserve from his constant farming in the outer forests and the milestone rewards. Since he was already looking at his interface, he decided it was time to further solidify his own raw destructive power.

’Open the Elemental Capsule,’ Lucious commanded in his mind.

The cascading tree of the Fire Element appeared before him. He had already purchased Tier 1, Fire Manipulation. Now, the next bracket was glowing, waiting to be unlocked.

[Fire Capsule - Tier 2: Water manipulation.]

[Function: Allows the host to command water however way they want. Cost: 50 Blood Points.]

’Unlock it,’ he decided without hesitation.

[60 Blood Points have been deducted. Tier 2 has been obtained.]

A sudden, intense rush of water bloomed deep within his chest, spreading rapidly outward to his fingertips. The knowledge of how to weave and compress calm water nto solid matter slotted perfectly into his brain, adding yet another lethal tool to his growing arsenal.

Lucious casually swiped his pale hand to the side, dismissing the glowing blue screen. The courtyard plunged back into the natural, dim lighting of the night.

He turned around and walked over to where Dori and Guinevere were resting.

He looked at their clothes, which were torn and coated in a thick layer of dust from the sparring session. Even his own reinforced leather armor had seen better days, carrying the lingering damage from the goblin camps and the bandit ambush on the dirt road.

"We cannot proceed with our current equipment," Lucious announced, his tone shifting into a strict, business-like cadence. "If we are going to wage a shadow war against Duke Gregory and his elite assassins back in the capital, we need far better gear. Weapons, enchanted cloaks, and proper armor. We will head out into the city markets tomorrow morning to buy what we need before making the long journey back to Uranik."

Guinevere slowly lowered the water skin from her lips. She stared down at the cobblestones for a long, heavy moment, a complex mixture of grief and calculated thought flashing across her bright purple eyes.

"We do not need to go to the public markets," Guinevere said, her voice dropping into a quiet, serious register.

Lucious raised a pale brow, silently prompting her to explain.

Guinevere took a deep breath, her hands tightening around the leather water skin.

"The merchants in the city squares only sell mass-produced garbage to wandering adventurers. If you want true, high-tier enchanted gear, weapons forged from rare metals, and enough raw funds to fund a small army, we need to go to my family estate."

Dori tilted her head to the side, looking at the noblewoman with a clear look of confusion. "But I thought your father was just a traveling merchant? Do merchants have giant estates filled with weapons?"

Guinevere shook her head, her purple hair swaying in the night wind. She looked directly at Lucious, completely dropping the facade she had been forced to maintain during their entire journey.

"My father was not a merchant," Guinevere confessed, the heavy weight of the truth finally spilling from her lips. "He was the Count of Border City."

The silence that followed her statement was absolute. Even Dori, who barely understood the intricate political hierarchy of the human world, realized that a Count was an incredibly powerful figure.

"A Count," Lucious repeated slowly.

"Yes," Guinevere nodded, her eyes burning with a fresh, vengeful fire.

"The merchant persona, the cheap transport carriage, traveling without a heavy guard detail... it was all a desperate disguise as i told you. The artifact he was carrying, the one that supposedly grants extended life, was far too dangerous to transport openly. He thought that by traveling as a lowly, wealthy merchant, he could bypass the spies of the rival noble houses and deliver the item safely."

She let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "It was a foolish plan. Duke Gregory saw right through it. The Duke knew exactly who my father was, and he hired those red-clad assassins to slaughter him in the streets and steal the artifact to ensure his own house gained the absolute favor of the King."

Lucious stared down at her, his mind calculating the massive potential resting right in front of him.

If her father was the Count of this entire city, that meant his estate was a literal goldmine of resources, political influence, and heavily guarded secrets.

"If your father was the Count," Lucious began, his voice cold and precise, "then his death leaves a massive power vacuum in this city. Who controls the estate right now?"

"Nobody," Guinevere stated firmly. "With my father dead, the estate and all of its hidden armories officially belong to me. But because of the sudden assassination, the city guard and the rival nobles will be swarming the manor by tomorrow afternoon to try and claim the assets for themselves under the guise of an investigation."

She stood up from the wooden bench, closing the distance between herself and Lucious. She looked up into his glowing crimson eyes, her own expression completely devoid of fear, replaced entirely by a dark, unyielding resolve to see her enemies burn.

"We need to go to my family estate tonight, before the vultures arrive," Guinevere declared, her voice ringing with aristocratic authority.

Lucious looked down at the newly turned vampire. She was no longer a terrified, grieving girl crying in the dirt.

A slow, calculated smile formed on his pale face.