Reincarnated in a novel: I am the villain!-Chapter 276: Vampires

With the end of that battle, the smoke from the battle still curled into the bruised purple sky of Layer 4.

Damien stood on the edge of the Black Bridge, wiping a smudge of dirt rom his gloved hand.

Around him, the Vane soldiers were regrouping, but there was no cheering.

The victory against Warlord Gorr felt less like a triumph and more like a reprieve.

"You don’t look like people who just won a battle," Damien noted, his voice distorted by the mask.

Captain Vesper walked up to him. The Knight Commander’s silver armor was scorched, and his helmet was removed, revealing a pale face with sharp features and eyes that glowed with a faint, crimson luminescence.

"What we won was but a skirmish, Baron," Vesper said, his voice grim.

He looked out toward the grey horizon where the Iron-Blood territory began.

"Truth be told, there’s still a mountain to clim."

Damien followed his gaze. The landscape beyond the bridge was a desolate expanse of jagged metal shards jutting from the earth like broken teeth.

"Warlord Gorr was indeed nuisance," Vesper admitted, kicking a piece of the destroyed mech.

"But he was just a finger. The hand... that is a different matter."

"Speak plainly, Captain," Damien said.

"Who is the hand?"

Vesper hesitated, then sighed. "You have guessed by now what we are, haven’t you?"

"Red eyes. Blood arts. An affinity for night," Damien listed lazily.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d say House Vane is a lineage of Vampires."

"We prefer ’Blood Demons’," Vesper corrected stiffly.

"We are the descendants of the Sanguine Progenitors. Our power comes from vitality itself."

"And your enemy?"

"The Iron-Blood Clan," Vesper pointed to the grey wastes. "They aren’t just regular Orcs. They are led by Emperor Thraka"

"He’s a monster that doesn’t wear armor, Baron, for he is the armor. His skin is equivalent if not stronger than the strongest Abyss Steel"

"He is an 8th Order calamity."

Damien froze.

"8th Order."

In the surface world, 8th Order was the realm before the legendary ninth order, just two steps away from becoming a Demigod.

It was the level of power that could shatter empires with a thought.

Damien, although he was a strong7th Order with a Dual-Core and the Greedy King’s Intent, but he wasn’t suicidal.

He remembered the fight against the Void Prince. He remembered Charron.

"8th Order," Damien repeated, his tone dropping an octave.

"And you want me to lead the vanguard against that?"

"We need to push forward," Vesper urged.

Damien laughed. It was a cold, sharp sound.

"No," Damien said. He turned around, his coat swirling.

"I agreed to break the siege and to kill Gorr. I did not agree to fight someone like that for a handful of coordinates. The deal is over."

"Wait!" Vesper stepped forward, desperation cracking his noble façade.

"We don’t expect you to kill him!"

Damien stopped but didn’t turn. "I’m listening."

"We know we cannot defeat Thraka alone," Vesper admitted quickly.

"Even the Duke cannot face him on enemy soil without preparation."

"The Iron-Blood territory is saturated with anti-magic fields generated by their machines. It weakens our Blood Arts."

Vesper reached into his tunic and pulled out a scroll case sealed with the Silver Serpent wax.

"The Duke anticipated your... reluctance. He authorized me to offer you this."

Vesper whispered a word.

"The Sanguine Heart."

Damien paused. He turned his head slightly.

"Explain."

"A gem," Vesper said, lowering his voice as if the air itself might steal the secret.

"Condensed from the vital essence of a thousand vane house remembers".

"It grants the user absolute control over blood. You can boil it in your enemies’ veins. You can stitch your own wounds in a heartbeat. It is the source of our House’s longevity."

Damien’s eyes narrowed behind the mask.

*The Sanguine Heart.*

His mind raced back to his knowledge of the future, the lore of the original novel.

In the late stages of the story, there was a subplot about "True Alchemy" and the creation of the first artificial Vampires on the surface. The catalyst for that forbidden magic was a red stone called the Sanguine Heart.

"If this is that stone...* Damien thought, his greed stirring.

"Even if I don’t use blood magic, the regenerative properties alone would synergize perfectly with my Celestial Life Physique. It would make me nearly unkillable.*

"You have my attention," Damien said, turning back fully.

"But I assume the Duke isn’t handing out family heirlooms for charity. What is the condition?"

"We don’t need you to fight Thraka," Vesper explained, pointing to a distant, jagged peak on the map.

"We need you to secure the Altar of Iron. It is an ancient teleportation node located deep behind enemy lines."

"If we can secure it, we can use a Blood Ritual to summon Duke Varic directly to the battlefield, bypassing the anti-magic fields."

Vesper looked Damien in the eye.

"You clear the path and secure the Altar. The Duke fights the Emperor. And you get the Gem."

Damien weighed the options.

Infiltration. Skirmishes. Securing a point. These were things he excelled at.

He didn’t have to face the 8th Order monster; he just had to open the door for the Duke to do it.

"And if Thraka shows up before the Duke does?" Damien asked.

"Then we’ll run," Vesper said grimly.

Damien smirked beneath his mask.

"Acceptable."

He walked back to where Isabelle and Elian was waiting.

She was cleaning the black grease of the mech off her daggers. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"We aren’t done?" Isabelle asked, seeing his expression.

"Not yet," Damien said.

"The price just went up, and the job just got harder."

He looked at the grey wasteland stretching out before them.

It was a labyrinth of scrap metal, hostile patrols, and ancient machinery.

"Gather the squad, Captain Vesper," Damien ordered, his voice taking command.

"We move out in ten minutes. I don’t have time to waste"

Vesper bowed, a gesture of genuine respect this time. "At once, Baron."

Damien looked toward the horizon. Somewhere out there, an 8th Order Warlord was waiting. And somewhere behind him, a Blood Gem was waiting.

"High risk," Damien thought, checking his gear.

"High reward."

"Hopefully nothing goes wrong" Damien whispered to himself.