By The Blood

Seeing Windsor make a run for it, Aurelian swiftly activated his shadow component. His form instantly dissolved into a pool of darkness, gliding across the walls. This was the power of his component, Shadowed, and like all components, there was an intuitive understanding of how it worked once it became part of him. It felt like controlling an extra limb.

Windsor moved quickly, but Aurelian was right behind him. They raced through the dark red alleys and mist-shrouded streets until Windsor stopped in front of an old, dilapidated apartment.

As a shadow, Aurelian watched from the size of a small pool as Windsor climbed the building’s walls. Impressive climbing ability, he observed. Windsor leaped through an open window on the second floor and disappeared inside.

Aurelian waited a few breaths before reemerging from the shadow, his body forming from a pool of sticky black goo. Tendrils of darkness clung to him before finally letting go.

The component is still active? Even though he knew potion components functioned differently from natural ones—they didn’t experience cooldowns and could be used repeatedly until they faded—he hadn’t expected it to last this long. Many preferred becoming potion alchemists rather than true Sanguines due to the flexibility of potion components.

After a few more breaths, Aurelian uncapped another bottle and drank the potion inside. This one tasted oddly like water, not the metallic taste he had grown accustomed to in the regiment.

As he drank, his hands began to pale and turn translucent, as though the mist was passing through them. He looked at the label—Invisibility.

So this is true invisibility, he thought. Not like the Mind Worm’s ability, which mainly erases your presence from the mind or exploits psychological blind spots. He paused, musing over the last word—psychology. The royal family’s ancestors certainly had a knack for creating unique terms. He told himself this to calm down.

After stashing the empty bottle, Aurelian pulled out another potion. He groaned slightly—drinking so many potions at once was not something he was used to. Normally, he wouldn’t stall this much during a mission, making so many preparations. But the Pure White commands it, he reminded himself with a sigh.

He downed three more potions, with the last one catching his attention. It was labeled Dragon's Breath.

Dragon's Breath? Aurelian tensed. Is this real? The public thinks of dragons as fire-breathing giants, but that’s not what they are at all. Dragons grant wishes, not fire. He hesitated before shaking off the thought. I’ll think about it later. With that, he drank the potion.

After consuming the Dragon’s Breath, Aurelian resisted the urge to summon his soul Face to inspect the stars. His focus returned to the apartment where Windsor had entered. He took a deep breath, approached the wall, and slapped his hands against it.

Instead of falling, his fingers adhered to the surface like those of a spider. Spider Hands! He crawled up the wall, his hands, legs, and knees sticking firmly with each movement, creating soft thuds as he climbed.

The window appeared unguarded, so Aurelian slipped inside, kneeling beside a bench. Then, he remembered—he was invisible. With that realization, he stood up, moving to the left corner of the average Canenese bedroom.

A bed was positioned near the center, slightly off to the left. A desk sat by the window, and a few shelves lined the wall. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the room, except for the mist seeping through the open window.

Just then, a door across from him opened. The slender Windsor stepped into the room, draped in a white towel. Aurelian’s gaze locked on Windsor, feeling something strange. It wasn’t the seductive allure of a Vixen’s charms, but something more familiar...It felt like...he was looking at his mother.

Aurelian tensed.

Windsor’s stomach suddenly began to swell, taking on a curved, oval shape. He caressed his abdomen, a warm smile crossing his lips—a familiar smile. Aurelian’s mind flashed back to a black-haired woman who had once brought her lips close to his. He shook his head, refocusing on the task at hand.

Windsor smiled and moved toward the bed, climbing onto it and laboriously parting his legs. He looked like a mother preparing to give birth. No! Aurelian clenched his fists. I won’t watch this! He tapped his chest, causing the mist to swirl around his hand, forming the Mist Blade—water droplets ran down its glass-like surface.

Suddenly, a creaking sound echoed through the room. Windsor froze, and so did Aurelian. The Ministry didn’t mention anything about a subordinate. Could they have been unaware? Aurelian found that hard to believe.

The door to Windsor's apartment swung open. It was the main entrance, and on the other side stood a woman. She wore a puffy white dress adorned with several accessories around her neck and arms. Her face looked as though it had been painted with white makeup, but from her white hair and colorless eyes, it was clear she was a Sanguine.

Who is she? She doesn’t seem like Windsor... Could she be from a different faction? Aurelian hesitated, unsure whether to attack. Just then, the woman raised her hand, a constant smile on her oval face. A brilliant white beam of light surged from her hand, filling the room with blinding brightness. Blades of pure white light hurtled toward Windsor.

She’s attacking him? Unsure if the woman was part of the Pure White Ministry or merely a Sanguine who had gained access to the sacred branch, Aurelian reacted. He opened his mouth, releasing a ball of searing red flames.

Boom!

The flames collided with the white blades, slamming into Windsor. The apartment quaked as the force of the explosion sent the bed flying, shattering it into pieces. A miniature shockwave swept through the room, toppling the desk near the window. Even the swirling mist was momentarily pushed back. Aurelian shielded his face from the debris, though his invisibility caused the dust to cling to the air around him, forming faint outlines of dirt. So it was dragon fire.

As the chaos cleared, Aurelian saw Windsor pinned against the wall. Blood and viscera oozed down from his abdomen as if something had forced its way out. Aurelian’s mind flashed back to the image of the pregnant Windsor, and a sense of dread crept over him. But before he could focus, Windsor’s mangled body twitched.

What? How can anyone survive this? Aurelian knew Windsor wasn’t a special class, and even if he were, the perks of healing wouldn’t account for this. Then, to his shock, Windsor’s grotesquely splattered body opened its eyes.

Wha— Before Aurelian could react, the room suddenly blazed with a pure white light. A strange sensation overtook him—it felt as though his components were being torn apart, forcefully ripped from his spirit. He doubled over, his body buckling under the intense pain. It was searing, overwhelming, far worse than anything he had ever experienced. His gaze locked onto the white-painted face lady, as he decided to call her.

The brilliant white light radiated from her body as if the hidden sun had descended into the misty night. Aurelian had heard of this phenomenon before, and realization dawned on him: I’m being purified. But this was no ordinary purification—it wasn’t purging sin or cleansing his spirit. This was a purification of his very components. His mystical abilities were being ripped from him, causing agony far greater than the usual pain of mana usage.

Don’t give in! She’s from the Pure White Ministry—she won’t kill me. She’s here for Windsor! Aurelian repeated this mantra in his mind, clinging to it. If he allowed himself to succumb to the pain, his body would break down, and death would follow. He couldn’t afford to give up—not now, not when his penance had just begun.

As he endured the maddening pain, a soft cry echoed through the room. The pure white light began to fade as if responding to the crying voice. Gasping for breath, Aurelian looked up. Floating in the air, before Windsor’s splattered corpse, was a baby, covered in blood. Its tiny fists were clenched, and a pained expression twisted its face.

The baby’s gaze swept across the room, finally landing on the painted lady. But the woman appeared indifferent to the child. Instead, she raised her hand again, summoning another surge of brilliant white light!

What? Didn’t she just use that ability? Aurelian’s eyes widened. He knew that ability could only be used once—the cooldown was long. He had seen it during his time as a guardsman. Then, a realization struck him. Passive gaze... strange features... components with no cooldowns! He froze in shock. She’s a Sealed Sanguine! What grade is she? Was she sent by the Ministry?

As Aurelian understood it, Sealed Sanguines were strange beings—Sanguines who had somehow become soulless, their bodies moving according to their established personalities. It never made sense to him. Some Sealed Sanguines followed this pattern, but others acted in erratic, chaotic ways, using their powers to cause pain and destruction. He had a theory that their class correlated with their mentality—the higher the class, the more intelligence a Sealed Sanguine retained. Despite their nature, these beings were often controlled by ministries, bonded to specific users, much like shard armor was to legionnaires. However, Sealed Sanguines wasn’t only used by ministries; some evil factions had also found ways to use them. Worse, there were rumors of Sealed Sanguines escaping control.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Aurelian realized the gravity of the situation. What if this Sealed Sanguine doesn’t belong to the Ministry? What if it’s tied to an evil faction? Or worse, what if it’s a rogue, drawn here by... the vortex?

Gritting his teeth through the pain, Aurelian forced himself to stand, though it was a struggle. The room was bathed in blinding white light, and the baby’s soft cries still echoed. Worse, he could feel it—two of the four potions he had taken had already been purged from his system. Since they were temporary, the backlash wasn’t too severe. But if his core components from his evolution were to be purged the same way? He would certainly die. And he wasn’t ready for that—not until Putray was dead and his penance complete.

He summoned his Mist Blade, feeling its instability as it quivered in his hand. It’s also being affected by the light? His eyes darted between the two figures: the baby and the white-faced woman. The light was so intense he could barely make out their forms, but he knew he had to act. If he didn’t, he would be the one to die.

Groaning, Aurelian pressed his left hand against his knee as he struggled to stand upright. The pain from using mana merged with the existing agony—at this point, he couldn’t tell the difference anymore. He tried to turn into mist, but as soon as he attempted, his body slammed to the ground. His mist form had been forcefully canceled, purified before he could fully activate it. He grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed himself back up. His eyes were wide with torment, but the pain was too overwhelming for him to even scream. Instead, he moved. If his mystical components wouldn’t work, he would rely on his physical strength.

Step by step, he approached the two figures: the Sealed Sanguine, who radiated brilliant white light, and the grotesque baby, floating in the air, covered in blood and moaning strange cries. He was being crushed by the opposing powers, both of which suppressed his components. Still, he forced himself forward, heading toward the baby. To him, it was an abomination—something created by heretics following a profane, evil branch. Anything born from such blasphemy had no place in this world.

As he drew closer, the baby’s cries intensified. His mind became a muddled mess—he couldn’t think, couldn’t strategize, couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. There was only one thing left: his will, his strength, and his penance. For the Pure, for the Sovereign, and for the Empire! The thought surfaced, a remnant of the pledge he had made when he joined the guardsmen, and later, the Black Sand in the Chaos Hunter Legion. With that resolve, he pressed on. He was performing a sacred duty. Yes, this was for the Pure.

Now just inches away from the baby, he saw its round, blood-smeared face twist into a distorted, mad expression. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of black teeth. It lunged at him, but with a swift and silent swipe, Aurelian’s Mist Blade cut clean through the child.