‘Will Von Mortis.’

The thought etched itself into the marrow of my soul. It was not just a name—it was identity. Essence. A truth as old as the blood that birthed me. My first true awareness since my awakening.

Then—something stirred above.

A presence. Warm breath brushing my skin. The scent of blood and fear. My mind reached for it, but before I could act on it, a deluge of knowledge surged into my mind like a crashing tide.

The Birth Cities—the ancient capitals sculpted in my image—awakened with me. They pulsed with old magic and stone memory, syncing with my blood like long-lost limbs reattaching. I felt their beating hearts, their hidden crypts, their crimson-lit cathedrals—all mine again.

And still… that presence remained above me. Alive. Close. Intent.

When the final thread snapped into place and my mind locked with my cities, I sensed them: others standing in a wide circle around my coffin. Silent. Breath held. Waiting. More lurked in the shadows beyond. I could hear their hearts—racing or too steady to be human.

Then—the figure moved.

A whisper of fabric. The gleam of steel caught the red glow of ritual candles. The knife tilted toward my heart.

Instinct erupted through me like wildfire.

My hand shot up and caught her wrist. The metal of the blade trembled in her grip. Before a thought could rise, I sank my fangs into her neck.

Hot blood rushed into my mouth, thick with vitality. It was warm like sunlight and yet tasted of shadows—nostalgia, almost. Like a song I had once known.

She went limp, muscles paralyzed by the venom in my bite. Her pulse slowed. In the breathless silence, I cast my will into her mind, my thoughts echoing with ancient weight.

『Who are you?』
『And who are these strangers who dare surround my coffin? Why would you attempt to pierce my heart?』

No reply. Just trembling lips and wide, glassy eyes.

『You may speak in thought. I will hear it.』

Her voice came, unsure, a whisper echoing across the link we now shared.

『I was told to. It was supposed to be part of the ritual. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t have the right to question it.』

『Is that so?』

I didn’t have time to probe deeper.

Her blood—familiar, potent—triggered a deeper reaction. My power recognized and welcomed her. She was becoming something more.

She was changing.

A Blood Consort.

And with her transformation came the memories—hers, not mine—bleeding into me like ink in water.

A man’s laughter. A mother’s lullaby. Steam rising from dinner bowls. Lilya.

Then—screams.

The crash of a door. Splintering wood. A scuffle in the dark. Her father’s shout was cut short. Her mother’s arms were around her, fleeing through a narrow hallway. A door creaked open into the cold night. One last embrace. “Run.”

And she did.

Years blurred—hunger, fear, wandering.

Then—light.

A small circle of girls. New friendships. Hope stitched together from scraps.

Only for it to unravel again.

Chains. A cold cage. The smell of damp earth. The taste of tears. Sold to a vampire like cattle.

Years underground. Then… here.

My city.

My coffin.

Me.

Our minds synchronized completely. Her agony was mine. Her memories, mine.

I opened my eyes.

She lay atop me—blonde hair tangled and wet, blood smeared across pale skin. Her eyes were red now. Not human. The Bond had taken.

Then—I felt the sharp kiss of fangs on my neck.

A gasp tore from me as she drank, pressed flush to me. Through our link, I felt the others around us stir in alarm. I extended my power with a single pulse.

The chamber was sealed.

Stone groaned as the walls tightened. The scent of ancient iron and dried blood filled the air. No escape. Not for them. Not now.

I spotted them—six human girls huddled together, wide-eyed. Lilya’s companions.

I whispered into her mind again.

『These girls—do you wish to make them Blood Attendants?』

Shock flashed through our bond.

『When we bonded, I saw your memories. Your pain. Their kindness. Their loyalty. They belong to you.』

『Do you still wish to turn them?』

A heartbeat of silence. Then—

『Yes. I do.』

『Then, when you’ve fed enough, await my signal. I must dispose of those who taint this sacred chamber.』

『How do I turn them?』

[Bite them and will it. Instinct will carry the rest. If you feel lost, speak to me.]

『Okay.』

She pulled away. Blood trailed down her lips. Her breath came fast.

『Ready?』

『Yes. Just say when.』

『Begin.』

She vanished from my vision in a blink, a blur of speed. Her footfalls thudded against the ground—raw power she hadn’t yet mastered.

I turned from her to face the threat.

Eight vampires.

One True Vampire—old, confident, radiating menace like heat from coals. The rest: Peerage Knights, their bloodlines noble, their auras honed to blades.

I was newly awakened. No combat finesse. No practice.

But I was a Progenitor. And this was my city.

They began to close in. Methodical. Measured. Calculating.

I needed time.

Through the link, I felt Lilya moving between her friends. One down. Two.

『Lilya. Tell me when you're done. When the moment comes, we overwhelm them together.』

『Almost. Three are done.』

Their circle tightened.

One aura was dim. Unstable. A new Knight. Weak.

I feinted toward the True Vampire. He raised a hand to parry, confident in his dominance.

Fool.

I shifted direction mid-step—speed, ferocity, precision. My fist struck the fledgling Knight’s chest with the force of a battering ram. Armor buckled. Ribs snapped. I tore out his heart and crushed it like fruit.

Another lunged—blade whistling for my neck. I twisted. A second sword sliced clean through my arm.

Pain was brief.

I ducked, rolled. My arm regrew before my feet stopped moving. The True Vampire’s expression tightened.

They shifted tactics.

Their eyes fell on my coffin.

I felt cold dread grip me.

They knew. If they shattered it, they would sever my bond to the city—dulling my strength. Unmaking me.

They struck.

The stone cracked. A groan echoed through the chamber. Dust rained from above.

I fought harder. Blood sprayed. Another Knight fell—then another. But I could not be everywhere. I could not protect everything.

A jagged line split down the coffin’s surface.

I snarled.

And then—

『I’m finished!』

Thus, the Progenitor awakened. A god reborn not through prophecy or priest, but through choice—hers.
And yet, before that moment of crimson eyes and ancient power, there was another story.
A girl.
A cage.
A choice that would shape the fate of all that followed.

Two years earlier…