By The Blood

Not knowing much about evolutions or possessing deep knowledge of the Sanguine, Karl had no real way of comprehending what she had just said. Instead of asking for clarification, he chose to stay silent, waiting for the woman to speak again.

"Since you're still too weak to accomplish anything, we need to prepare you in other ways," Anette's voice echoed within Karl.

Does she plan to control my body and use it? Like some puppet? he wondered, a frown forming on his lips.

"Let us go, master."

Karl's legs betrayed him, each step bringing him closer to the edge. Startled, he wondered if she intended for him to fall. As if in answer to his unspoken question, his body leaped from the building.

What? he thought, as the mist swirled around him. His hands moved swiftly, shattering the glass in his grip into hundreds of tiny shards. He stuffed most of them into his pockets, holding only a few in his hand.

An idea quickly formed in his mind regarding the woman’s intentions. The dark, mist-covered ground rushed to meet him almost as fast as his hands moved. He grabbed a couple of shards and flung them into the air. His body moved in an unnatural way, and the world warped around him. Suddenly, the city reappeared before his eyes, and he found himself at a greater height than before.

Did I teleport? Karl, still not in control of his body, had a moment to process the situation. A shard of glass caught the moonlight before falling toward the mist-covered ground.

He recognized it—this was one of the shards he had thrown, or perhaps it was the one the woman had.

He landed on the roof of a building directly across from where he had jumped. His feet lightly touched the wooden peak of the roof as he paused in the darkness, turning his head to survey the city. After a moment, he jumped again, tossing another shard of glass into the distance. He soon disappeared, reappearing beside the slowly descending shard.

He landed on a flat roof and, with a stronger throw, sent another shard soaring high and far. This time, he didn't move right away, watching the shard as it flew. Nonetheless, he soon vanished from the roof, leaving the mist to swirl where he once stood.

A towering old cathedral loomed before him. In stark contrast to the simpler structures of the city, the cathedral, though aged and dark, boasted intricate designs that stood out. It resembled a giant spear, with three to five spires so closely connected that they appeared as one massive spire.

The cathedral was a pale gray, shrouded in faint mist. The moon cast both silvery and reddish light on it. However, the walls were cracked and weathered, with green moss creeping up certain areas and grass sprouting from corners. The structure seemed to be made of perfectly cut stone, giving its walls a slick, mirror-like appearance.

This was likely a cathedral of the Pure White Ministry. Was this their destination? Could an evil faction really make its base here? Karl found the idea absurd. Any faction foolish enough to camp at an enemy’s stronghold—whether former or not—was clearly asking for trouble. Never antagonize the enemy!

"There are several people there, but none of them seem to be at a special class," Anette’s voice echoed in Karl’s mind. "You should prepare yourself, master. Watch what I do and learn from it."

So you plan to use my body to fight? Karl understood the implication, though he had no strong objections. While he disliked losing control of his body, survival and the hope of future freedom outweighed the cost.

Taking out a few shards, Karl tossed them toward the cathedral. Some shattered against its walls, while others fell softly to the ground.

He vanished, reappearing mid-air, and landed feet-first against the slick stone wall. Thankfully, he landed gently enough to avoid breaking any bones—at least, he didn't feel anything broken. Whether that was true would only be clear once Anette left his body. Still, he had the unsettling thought that he wouldn't be the same afterward.

One of the shards glinted under the reddish moonlight as it plummeted toward the ground. Below it stood a man, his expression frightened but determined.

Karl’s momentum slowed, and he began to slide down the wall. He—or rather, she—used this moment to disappear, reappearing directly above the man.

Startled by the sudden appearance of an intruder, the guard instinctively reached for a small bell to sound the alarm, but it never rang. Karl’s body moved swiftly, his hand grabbing the man’s head, and his knee smashing into the guard's face.

The guard’s head snapped back, blood spraying from his shattered nose. The bell slipped from his hand, moments from hitting the ground. But Karl vanished once again, reappearing on the ground just in time to catch the bell before it made a sound. A shard of glass lay beside him on the cobblestones.

The guard, regaining his composure, drew a small sickle from his clothing and swung it at the strange intruder. What kind of beastman doesn't have a tail? the guard must have wondered.

Karl tossed another shard over the guard’s head and disappeared again, reappearing behind him. His hands wrapped around the man’s neck, and with a swift, muffled crack, the guard collapsed with a broken neck. Karl bent down, retrieving the sickle, and paused for a moment, as if listening for any sound.

There was none.

Did he die that easily? For a brief moment, Karl reflected on the insignificance of life. But only for a moment.

Karl crouched and picked up a glass shard, hurling it into the air with all his strength. He vanished from the spot, reappearing mid-air, and threw another shard. He repeated this process until he found a balcony on the upper level of the cathedral. Unlike most, the Pure White cathedrals had two stories. The balcony was likely where the priest or head bishop would stand to overlook the city. However, now it was occupied by two cloaked guards.

Is she planning to take them out? Doesn’t she realize that could make some noise? Karl questioned the woman’s intentions, finding her approach somewhat reckless.

As he descended steadily from the great height, Karl's body was enveloped by the night mist. Just as he anticipated, his feet landed on the ledge between the guards. Without hesitation, he slashed at the guard on the right with the sickle, leaving a deep gash across the man’s face. Blood sprayed out!

The man screamed in pain from the sudden attack. The other guard, although shocked, quickly extended his palms toward Karl. "Invigilator!" he shouted, sending a green ray of light at the intruder.

Disappearing immediately, Karl briefly wondered whether he wore a monocle—something invigilators were known for. He threw another shard over the guard, reappeared behind him, and slashed the sickle across his neck. Blood spurted from the fatal wound.

Wasting no time, Karl lunged at both guards, exploiting their disorientation and pain to shove them over the balcony’s edge.

Their screams echoed as they fell. So, the method doesn’t matter as long as you have overwhelming strength. Despite this thought, it was clear that part of the success was due to the woman’s skill. Karl opened the balcony doors, letting the mist flood into the room, its tendrils creeping through the darkness.

"The Newmans have developed their own evolutionary branch," Anette’s booming voice resonated in his mind.

Evolutionary branch? Is that what explains the green light? he pondered as he stepped inside.

"That light comes from the green-faced starfish. It creates a green ray that can either reduce an object’s weight, making it float, or increase it, forcing it down. The creature also has one more power," Anette explained.

The room was empty, as expected but covered in gray cobwebs. The walls, already old and deteriorating, showed signs of decay.

Green-faced starfish? That’s not one of the major races. Karl mused. He knew other races existed in this world, like the gu worms that fed on emotions, and he suspected their existence was somehow linked to the Sanguines’ source of power. But he didn't fully understand how it worked. However, it wasn’t for lack of curiosity; beastmen had limited knowledge on such matters, and the humans in the manor would sooner beat him than answer his questions.

Leaving the room, Karl moved quickly, passing several doors but spotting no guards. After a while, he came upon a door outlined with light. He slid a glass shard under it, positioning it halfway in and halfway out.

He vanished from his spot, reappearing inside the lit room, blinking in the brightness, sickle in hand. The room was crowded with sleeping beastmen, huddled together on the ground, mostly naked and shivering from the cold. The light came from an eternal lamp encased in glass, illuminating each wall. Near the opposite door, a robed man stared wide-eyed at Karl.

Startled, the man began to raise his hands, but before he could react, Karl threw the sickle into his chest. Blood spurted from the man’s mouth as he stared at the weapon embedded in him. But Karl didn’t stop there—he ran and pushed the sickle deeper until the man fell back into his seat, dead.

Karl, still not in control of his own body, watched the scene unfold. Death no longer repulsed him; he had witnessed it many times before. But as he looked at the sleeping beastmen, a thought crossed his mind: Should I set them free?

The idea quickly faded. He lacked the power or authority to protect them, and the woman inside him was powerful enough to quash any request he might make. Still, he hoped that one day he could help the race that had unknowingly sheltered him for two years. He was determined to build a utopia for them.

Retrieving the glass shard, he quietly opened the door and slipped out. Not long after, one of the beastmen woke up, sniffing the air. His eyes widened as he saw the lifeless body of the man who had tortured and killed many of their kind. The beastmen, who had slept in misery, awoke to find their captor dead. How?

Luckily, it seems no one has detected my presence. At least, not yet, Karl thought.

He opened another door, and immediately numerous eyes turned toward him.

The room was circular, with multiple doors lining the walls. The floor had a spiral design that led to the center, where an iron ladder likely descended to the floor below. A glass ceiling above let in the bluish-white moonlight, casting an eerie glow over everything.

The room was filled with people, all dressed in hooded robes. One of them, seemingly the leader, wore a dark reddish robe with strange protrusions. His face was grotesque, with large horns that spiraled around his skull like a crown. His cheeks and neck were also covered with smaller horns, giving him a bizarre appearance. His skin was a dark, woody brown.

The man held a knife in one hand and a dead beastboy in the other, blood still streaming from the boy’s neck. The boy’s eyes were wide with terror, his face drenched in sweat, and his pants stained with evidence of his fear.

The horned figure tossed the lifeless body aside, his voice filled with fury. "He’s not an invigilator! We’re under attack by another faction! Don’t be afraid. He likely has no backup. Even if he’s advanced class, we can kill him and offer his soul to God." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sphere with a netted surface, glowing faintly with white light.

"Soul bomb," Anette’s voice echoed in Karl’s mind.

A soul bomb? Isn’t that the same one she used against those swordsmen? Karl frowned, recalling the incident. Are soul bombs a valuable commodity? Even the cognizer wants one.

"Those bombs are created by collecting souls, and the explosion’s strength is proportional to the number of souls it contains," Anette explained. "But I doubt this group has one with more than twenty souls. He probably just intends to use it as a threat."