THE DARK SIDE OF BLOOD
The mechanical clock on my bedside table read 4:00 AM. The sun would rise in exactly ninety minutes. I had precisely that much time before the capital woke up.
Princess Quina was currently trapped in her chambers, undoubtedly plagued by violent, suffocating nightmares. Before I left her, I had explicitly commanded her not to utter a single word about what we saw until our delegation safely returned to the Krane Kingdom. She had been utterly terrified, her eyes bloodshot, but she managed to whisper a desperate counter-proposal: the moment we reach Krane, she will take the absolute blame. I’ll tell the High Council that she forced me to act as her private bodyguard for a midnight stroll.
Reckless, but useful, I thought. It kept the spotlight off the House of Gurberr.
BZZZZT.
A sharp mechanical hum buzzed near my window. One of Grim’s miniature eagle drones hovered outside the frame.
“Are you seriously going back out there?” Grim’s raspy voice crackled quietly through the comms lens inside my mask.
“Yes. I have to go,” I replied, my eyes fixed on the dark horizon. “If Quina hadn't been with me to drag me down, I could have eliminated all sixteen of those test subjects tonight. If they lose their living human weapons, the Blood Kingdom will be forced to withdraw from the border entirely.”
“I see. Take this,” Grim grunted.
The eagle drone flew inside, dropping a heavy leather bundle onto my bed. Gripped tightly in its mechanical claws was the fated sword of that mystery man, heavily upgraded and modified by Grim's genius smithing.
I reached up, gently touching the silver surface of the disguise locket. The artifact flared with a brilliant, blinding light. The 6'4" blonde frame of Will Gurberr dissolved into my true, agile silhouette. I willed my internal imagination to manifest an entirely new, terrifying aesthetic.
The light faded, revealing a sharp, tailored crimson suit over a matching crimson shirt, trousers, gloves, and leather boots. I strapped a sleek, dark crimson mask over my features, completely concealing my identity. I strapped the twin black-alloy blades firmly to my waist.
The Crimson Card was officially ready.
Slipping past the vanguard guard through the high window, I caught a passing dark-market cab, blending seamlessly into the shadows of the backseat. The way Grim’s drones operated required a continuous input of internal magical energy to maintain their spatial tether. Because of their current operational limits, the drone couldn't cross the heavily blockaded border line on its own—it required me to feed it a constant stream of mana.
I extended a localized, invisible thread of pure mana from my fingertips, linking it to the drone flying high above the carriage.
“Grim,” I whispered into the radio interface, my voice distorted with a terrifying, dual resonance. “I am going to slaughter all sixteen of those test subjects, along with every single researcher inside that facility. If you aren't prepared to witness an absolute massacre... just close your eyes.”
“I don't give a single damn about their lives,” Grim’s cold voice crackled back instantly. “Just ensure you bring me back pure biological samples of their blood.”
I arrived at the coordinate coordinates of the southern slums, dropping from the cab into the dark alleyways. But the moment I reached the courtyard, my breath caught.
The horrifying pool of blood and the mountain of mangled corpses were entirely gone. The cobblestones were spotless. The local cleaners had scrubbed the entire sector clean before dawn.
Sensing a trap, I cautiously slipped through the iron panel of the main warehouse. Inside, the entire room had been completely hollowed out. The blood stains, the research equipment, the iron chair where the naked man had been melted into ash—everything had vanished. There wasn't a single trace of evidence left behind.
They found out about us because of Quina's panic, I thought, my blood running cold. They scrubbed the entire site.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Without a microsecond of warning, the entire warehouse exploded into a colossal pillar of orange fire and shattering iron debris.
Thanks to my explosive phantom reflexes, I had already initiated a backward vault before the blast wave could touch my cloak. Propelling myself upward through the shattered roof, I landed smoothly on the stone tiles of an adjacent building.
Standing on the roof directly opposite me were five cloaked figures. Four of them wore tightly fitting, full-body armor that completely hid their features. But the man standing at the center wore an expensive, aristocratic noble suit. His long, vibrant red hair caught the residual wind of the explosion, and the sheer volume of his dark mana confirmed he was their superior.
“You actually came back, intruder,” the red-haired noble laughed, his voice dripping with malice. “We knew you’d return to the scene of the crime. You must have been so thoroughly terrified after witnessing our research that you vomited in the corner, leaving your distinct biological traces behind.”
I stood completely silent behind my crimson mask, resting my hand on the hilt of my sword. They tracked us through Quina's sickness.
“Looks like you discovered our little project,” the noble smirked, entirely unfazed by my silence. “Then you must already know about the ultimate weapons we’ve constructed here. We prefer to call them... the Chosen Stones. And standing right before you are four of those very stones.”
The four armored monsters stepped forward, their muscles bulging as a heavy, suffocating pressure radiated from their frames.
“Now, get ready for your slaughter,” the red-haired boss sneered.
I closed my eyes, opening the spectral deck within my mind to place my thirty-second countdown wager.
🃏 [DEATH’S GAMBIT: PLACING BET]
Ace of Spades:All five targets will strike simultaneously in a unified assault.
Jack of Spades:The targets will stall to wait for incoming reinforcements.
Queen of Spades:The red-haired commander will charge me alone to test my strength.
King of Spades:The four armored Stones will launch the initial physical attack.
There was no absolute certainty in chaos, but based on strategy, the boss wouldn't dirty his hands first. He would deploy his expensive weapons to crush the bug.
“Kill him, boys,” the red-haired noble commanded, waving his hand.
Flash.
The brilliant King of Spades materialized before my eyes and shattered into a million black sparks.
The four armored Stones blurred into motion, rushing across the rooftop gap with an explosive, high-captain-level speed. But because they were genetically engineered weapons driven by raw power, they lacked proper military cohesion. They weren't moving in a tactical formation—they were simply charging blindly like ferocious beasts.
My internal phantom mana violently busted outward from my core. I didn't even activate the King's card suppression magic; they were far too strong to be knocked unconscious by simple pressure. I needed raw execution.
I drew my fated blade in a single, blinding flash of matte-black light.
SLASH!
A horizontal arc of black physical air pressure sheared through the dark air. Before the first Stone could even raise his guard, the blade cleanly severed his neck. His helmeted head flew straight into the sky, trailing a geyser of dark fluid as his massive body collapsed heavily onto the tiles.
“In a single strike?! No way!” the red-haired boss shrieked, his arrogant expression completely shattering. “Everyone, fall back into a three-man triangle formation immediately!”
The remaining three Stones rapidly adjusted, forming a tight, synchronized triangle array around my crimson suit. One of them lunged forward to draw my attention with a heavy vertical slash, while the remaining two hovered in my blind spot, waiting for the exact millisecond my posture overextended to deliver the killing blow.
A classic vanguard pinning strategy.
In a standard one-on-one exchange, our steel clashed violently. Clang! Sparks flew as the Stone did everything in his power to grind my blade down and create an opening for his comrades.
“I admire your effort,” I whispered behind my crimson mask. “But it's time to free you from your suffering.”
Shifting my weight effortlessly, I twisted my wrist, slipping my blade past his guard and cleanly slicing his head off in a single fluid rotation.
The remaining two Stones didn't hesitate. Capitalizing on the microsecond my back was turned, they both sprinted forward, their blades flaring with a massive, high-captain-level mana output. Their raw power rivaled the absolute authority of Lord Drake, but their technical swordsmanship was completely unrefined—nothing but brute force.
I didn't even need to trigger the King's card magic to break the stalemate.
Drawing my second modified black blade with my left hand, I crossed both weapons over my shoulders.
CLANG!!!
I flawlessly blocked both incoming strikes simultaneously, the sheer impact cracking the stone roof beneath my boots. It was an absolute two-versus-one deadlock, but my phantom strength was monstrous. With a single, explosive flex of my arms, I parried their weapons away, spun through the center of their guard, and effortlessly slashed them both in half across the torso.
The four legendary human weapons lay dead at my feet in less than a minute.
The red-haired noble’s eyes were wide, his skin completely drained of all color as he stared at the carnage. He was violently trembling.
“W-What... WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?!” he stammered, backing away toward the edge of the roof.
I slowly stood up straight, sheathing my left blade while my right sword blazed with a towering, ominous pillar of black phantom fire.
“I am the Crimson Card,” I spoke, my voice echoing with a terrifying dual resonance through the smoke. “And I am here to burn your darkness in the crimson flames.”
The noble’s breath hitched, a sudden, horrifying realization hitting his brain. “The... the masked anomaly who fought Sage Rigger at the Krane Palace?! You're real?! The Krane High Council wasn't fabricating political bullshit?! What the hell are you doing here in the Blood Kingdom?!”
“I am here to burn the darkness of Blood,” I repeated, stepping over the corpses.
“Wha—”
Before the syllable could fully leave his mouth, I unleashed a massive, localized surge of the King's supreme mana flare. The raw weight of the black energy slammed into his mind. His eyes went wide with pure terror as he realized the sheer, unbridgeable chasm in power between us.
Realizing he was facing a literal god of death, the red-haired noble triggered a desperate, blood-teleportation talisman. In a flash of crimson light, his physical form vanished from the rooftop, leaving behind nothing but a lingering scent of ozone.
I didn't bother chasing him. I reached into my crimson trousers, pulled out a small glass collection vessel Grim had provided, and knelt beside one of the fallen "Stones." I carefully collected a pure sample of the dark, mutated biological fluid dripping from the corpse, sealing it tightly before sliding it back into my pocket.
The first four weapons were dead. The message had been sent. And the underworld of the Blood Kingdom was finally about to learn what happens when you play with fire.
lay flat on my back in my assigned bed, staring blankly up at the polished marble ceiling as the dim morning light filtered through the heavy curtains.
My physical wounds had been completely closed by my phantom bloodline, but the questions in my mind were only growing more chaotic.
Why is this blockaded kingdom so prosperous? Why do they keep mass-producing 'Stones' to fight a border war when they clearly have no rational economic reason to keep fighting it? How does the Blood Tyrant’s flesh grant human test subjects the raw destructive capability of a High Captain? And who, or what, is the Blood Tyrant really?
Knock. Knock.
A sharp, polite wrapping on my door shattered my thoughts. The mechanical clock on the wall read exactly 8:00 AM.
I opened the lock, finding Lord Gurberr standing in the corridor. He looked stiff, but he managed to nod firmly at my 6'4" blonde disguise. “It is time to report to the Grand Summit, Will. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Father,” I replied, my deep, disguised voice dropping flawlessly into my fanatical, brainwashed tone. “Thanks to your supreme, unmatched guidance, I am completely ready to represent our house.”
Gurberr’s eye subtly twitched, but he quickly turned on his heel to lead the way.
When we arrived at the primary diplomatic receiving hall, the entire Krane delegation had already assembled. Lord Drake stood imposing near the front, while Prince Erwin carried himself with calm, royal dignity. Erina stood rigidly as Quina's personal shield.
I looked over at Princess Quina. She was deathly pale, dark circles bruising the delicate skin beneath her eyes. She was actively trembling, her gaze refusing to meet anyone else's. Her mind was still completely fractured by the horrors we had witnessed in the warehouse.
Before Prince Erwin could formally request the opening of the summit gates, the heavy double doors slid open, and a contingent of elite guards marched out.
At the front stood the exact same red-haired noble from the rooftop ambush. He had ditched his ruined aristocratic suit for the high-grade, black-and-gold plate armor of the state.
“My deepest apologies, gentlemen,” the red-haired noble spoke, his voice completely smooth and dripping with diplomatic courtesy. “But His Majesty's formal summit meeting must be indefinitely postponed.”
Prince Erwin’s brows furrowed, stepping forward. “Explain yourself. And state your identity, sir.”
“I am Kenon,” the red-haired man replied, bowing with a flawless, practiced elegance. “I am the Grand Commander of the Blood Throne’s Knight Order. Regrettably, the Blood Tyrant is currently indisposed with urgent state affairs, so he cannot grant an audience today. Therefore, you are all officially free to explore our beautiful capital. I was informed you were unable to sightsee yesterday due to your arduous journey.”
“I see,” Prince Erwin murmured, exhaling a soft sigh of frustration. “Well... it cannot be helped if your sovereign ruler is busy.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness,” Kenon smiled politely, before gesturing for his elite captains to fall back into the eastern corner of the hall to allow our delegation to disperse.
As Erwin and Drake began guiding our group back toward the lounge, I intentionally lingered in the back of the line. I focused my focus entirely, activating my phantom ears to eavesdrop on the hushed whispers traveling between Kenon and his hidden sentries across the room.
“Did any of the Krane envoys leave their private quarters last night?” Kenon hissed, his diplomatic smile completely vanishing into a vicious, low growl. “Was anyone acting suspiciously?”
“No, Grand Commander,” a sentinel whispered back frantically. “Our vanguard guards monitored the corridors perfectly. More than half of the Krane delegation are kids who just ran around playing card games inside their rooms for the entire night. They are completely harmless.”
Kenon gritted his teeth. “Well... it can't be helped then.”
“What exactly happened last night, my Lord?” the sentinel dared to ask.
“A lone intruder attacked our southern processing facility,” Kenon whispered, a trace of lingering terror cracking his voice. “He was monstrously strong. He slaughtered four of our Chosen Stones in less than a minute... but his internal mana output was still entirely weaker than the absolute authority of the Blood Tyrant. So whoever that masked anomaly is, he won't be a catastrophic problem for our state.”
The sentinel gasped. “Understood, my Lord”
“But right now, the primary issue is that the Blood Tyrant himself is completely missing again,” Kenon commanded sharply, his eyes darting across the room. “Report to me instantly if you notice even a single microsecond of suspicious activity anywhere in the capital.”
“Yes, Grand Commander!”
I deactivated my sensory aura, my blonde bangs shadowing the sudden, freezing shock that rippled through my chest core.
My King’s mana... was weaker than the Blood Tyrant?
I stared out of the tall glass windows at the sprawling, prosperous capital below. I had assumed the Death’s Gambit deck given to me by a literal devil of the underworld made me the ultimate predator on the surface. But Kenon, a man who had felt my full, unbridled King of Spades mana flare, honestly believed the Blood Tyrant was a completely superior monster.
A dark, racing thrill shot through my veins. The chessboard had just expanded into absolute madness.
I have to find out every single thing about this missing ruler. And I have to do it quickly—before he finds me first.