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Blood Sovereign

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Original title: Blood Sovereign

Blood Sovereign — Story illustration
Story cover artwork · AI-created artwork, not an official cover of the original work.

Some monsters are born. Others are chosen. Mirela was meant to be a saint, but her birth was cursed. Born a vampire beneath the shadow of prophecy, she never knew her blood carried both miracle and abomination. She only ever wanted to survive. On her eighteenth birthday, the divine Catalyst awakens her class and reveals a truth that could tear the (...)

Original fiction. Characters and events are invented.

Edited by: Huangguo Drama · Updated:

Stories

### Chapter 1: Prologue

Eighteen years had passed since the Church's Oracle prophesied the impending doom. In response, the gods chose two divinely consecrated souls, a Saint and a Hero, charging the Church with their protection and training. Recognizing the gravity of the prophecy, the Church summoned two noble families, each destined to bear one of these blessed children. This was not merely a prophecy; it was a call to arms against the encroaching darkness.

The House of Beaumont was stunned to receive a summons from the Church, and not merely for counsel but to present their youngest son, Avery, and his wife, Marie. Clerics devoted to humble service, neither had ever been called to the Cathedral of Valoria, home of the Oracle. The journey would be long and dangerous, forcing them to skirt the Dark Forest in both directions, and Marie had only recently confirmed she was with child. Even so, the urgency of the Oracle’s call could not be ignored. With faith as their shield, they set out with two volunteer paladins from their local parish and traveled for weeks.

The House of Ashford received their summons soon after. Bartholomew Ashford, last scion of a long line of paladins and monster hunters, answered without hesitation. His wife, Diana, regal, scholarly, and in her second trimester, shared his resolve. Their lands lay much closer to Valoria, yet with the tone of the summons and Diana’s condition, they refused to take chances. A contingent of knights and men-at-arms joined their carriage for the short but guarded journey.

By divine providence or design, both families arrived at the Cathedral on the same day. The Oracle greeted them and spoke of the blessings placed upon their unborn children: one destined to be the Saint, the other the Hero. The honor was beyond anything they had dreamed. For several days, they received instruction on how to raise, guide, and conceal their children’s identities until the appointed time. Before either mother could be at risk from travel, the Church assigned a priest and a paladin to each family as tutors and guardians. The parents returned to their estates to await the births, and for eighteen years, to prepare their children for the day they would return.

Bartholomew and Diana Ashford were fortunate. Their journey from Valoria would take only a few days within the safe borders of Aranthor. With a small escort of knights and Diana well into her second trimester, they traveled at a careful but comfortable pace, and the road was well-patrolled. There was little to fear.

Avery and Marie Beaumont were not so lucky. The Church had generously gifted them a larger, more suitable carriage for their return trip, and Marie was endlessly grateful. Her morning sickness had passed, but fatigue and back pain made travel miserable. Even with the new carriage, she needed frequent stops to stretch her legs, slowing their progress. Still, neither she nor Avery were worried. Their journey to Valoria had been uneventful, and the adventurers they met along the way assured them the Dark Forest was calm this time of year. So long as they stayed to the outskirts, they would be safe.

It was in their final stretch of traveling on the forest's edge when things changed. The sun had barely begun to set when they called a halt and pulled off the road. It was early to camp, but dark clouds gathered overhead, and they doubted they’d find a better spot. The clearing was spacious, sheltered from the wind, and easy to defend.

Six months pregnant and self-conscious of her changing figure, Marie had begun wearing dresses to conceal it—but they could only do so much. Sore and stiff from the ride, she took her usual short walk while the camp was set up. Never far, and never toward the forest. Her maid stayed at her side, and they always returned within ten minutes. It never felt long enough, yet somehow always felt like an eternity.

As they turned back, walking back up the road toward their camp, Marie couldn't help but lament, "And to think, my feet will only become more sore as this goes on. If I were not carrying a girl, I'd refuse to have another!"

Jessabelle had known Marie long enough to know that wasn't true. "My lady will make an excellent mother to many heirs, I am certain."

Marie let out a woeful sigh. "Certainly, if Avery has anything to say about it. The man is insatiable and already has a dozen names picked out. I am not so confident I could manage that many."

"My lady will be sure to remind me of this each time. That is something else we can be certain of."

Marie looked at Jessabelle, "Perhaps I will not have to. I see how wide your hips are. You are here to serve our family, after all." Her maid's eyes shot wide as she began to stammer, but Marie only laughed. “Do not fear. I am only teasing.”

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Jessabelle’s hand rested on her chest as she breathed in mock relief, and Marie added lightly, “Still… if the Church summons us back to Valoria again, I may decide this is quite enough motherhood for one lifetime.”

Her smile lingered a moment longer, then her face scrunched in confusion.

“Jesse, do you smell that? It’s not a campfire.”

Her maid took a moment before shaking her head, "I smell nothing, my lady."

It only took a few more seconds for Marie to recognize the metallic scent. "We need to hurry back. I think it's blood!"

Marie was young, but even she could only move so quickly in her condition. It took nearly a minute to cross the remaining distance, and when they reached the camp, it was empty. Everything had been set up, yet the men and horses were gone. They circled the campsite before spotting signs of a struggle and bootprints in the soft earth, leading toward the forest’s edge.

"My lady, we should get in the carriage. If they have gone after something, it must be dangerous."

Marie nodded, stepping back as she reached for the carriage door. Jessabelle was already there, hand out to help her up. Gratefully, Marie took it and began to climb inside—when the hand was suddenly yanked away. She looked back. Jessabelle was gone.

“Jessabelle?” Her voice shook. She turned in a slow circle, searching the clearing, but she was alone. She fumbled for a spell, but panic scattered every thought. The carriage door creaked behind her. She whirled, only to find it still hanging open just as she left it, empty darkness inside.

She had to protect her child. That single thought cut through the fear. Marie planted her foot on the step and grabbed the rail to pull herself in—

Her body seized. Pain lanced from her neck and shoulder like an electric current, and her muscles refused to obey. Warmth spread down her collar as her strength bled away. The world tilted. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed backward—into waiting arms.

And then, she knew no more.

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### Chapter 2: 1 Follow Me Out Of The Dark

The night here was thin and quiet compared to the depths of the forest I called home. I had strayed farther than I should on a hunt that had already slipped from my grasp, and I wasn’t ready to face Father with empty hands. Now, only after accepting defeat, did I stumble across an opportunity I hadn’t earned.

Anyone who wandered this far should have known the law of the forest. Step lightly, take little, leave quickly. Yet the foolish rarely understood the balance here… not until the forest claimed its due.

I watched them from my perch in the canopy above. Another group of adventurers ready to brave the Dark Forest’s depths, eager for fame, glory, and riches. The fools were only steps away from death. I could never understand why they would willingly enter a place so full of danger and darkness only to chase after some impossible goal.

The rules here were simple. Setting foot into the forest was an invitation to die, but so long as you were not greedy, so long as you stayed to the outer edges, the Lord of the Forest was not likely to take notice of you. If you gave in to your greed or pride, if you dared to march into the deeper forest after rumors of treasure or pursuing the false justice of the church, if you ran headlong to your doom with the faint hope of saving your lost loved ones—then you were his.

The Lord of the Forest harbored no compassion, no remorse, no pity, and no forgiveness. Those who came to disturb the solitude of his ancient home found but a single welcome: hunger without end, and a death that did not care for prayers.

The fools below could not have gotten this far without understanding the peril they faced, and yet they continued on in a straight line, directly for the castle. It was the most unlikely of flukes that they had made it so far as to reach me, even as far out as I was venturing this evening. Like them, I was not supposed to be so far into the forest, but I differed strongly in how prepared I was to navigate the enchanted place.

The haunting confusion and misdirection saturating the deep woods would turn anyone in circles here, even if they were to somehow have a map. The four souls below me carried only a crystal hanging from a string for guidance, glowing toward the strongest source of mana nearby. I watched them each stagger every few steps as their instincts told them to turn back or follow a false trail. Every one of their senses worked to turn them away from their course, but they ignored it to follow the glow of the crystal directly toward the Nexus. The convergence of five ley lines that met under the castle in the center of the Dark Forest.

I had not met many adventurers, but even I could tell at a glance that these were not Church zealots. They were no assassins or thieves either; their loud, careless steps and blazing torches announced their presence to every creature within a hundred feet. Nor did they wear the gilded armor of high-tier adventurers on some glorious quest. That left only one final type of would-be heroes.

With the grace of a cat, I slipped down from my perch and dropped to the ground below.

"You should not go that way. You will die." My voice was flat and calm, as I conveyed a simple fact. I would not be upset if they were to take those next fateful steps, and I was sure they could understand that from my words.

They all spun, weapons raised, but froze when they saw me. I was not a very threatening person to look at. I carried a sword, I was no fool, but my leather pants and boots were the simple, durable kind that anyone might wear to protect themselves from thick vegetation, and my blouse was lacking in any armor. My long, dark hair was tied back, and while my skin was as pale as anyone who spent too much time in darkness, it only made my youth stand out more.

Before me stood three men and a woman. The largest of the men appeared to be their leader, wearing heavy armor and carrying a silver-coated sword that was far too large to fight effectively within this dense forest. One of his companions looked to be a scout, his bow half drawn when he'd spun and aimed it at me, and another, a mage in odd, split robes, holding a staff in one hand and the guiding crystal in the other.

The woman was with them but didn't quite seem to fit as part of the group. The way she stood just far enough away from them made her look out of place. She was older and, so far as I could tell, was some sort of rogue. She was near my height of five feet, seven inches, still small next to her companions, and she looked like she very much did not want to be here. The warrior from the front took one step toward me in anger before stopping with a bark of laughter.

"Are you some newbie adventurer? Did your party get in over their heads? Get out of here, girl. This isn't the place for you."

I gave a single nod, "You are correct. This is not where I am meant to be. But you are walking to your doom. Why are you here?"

The scout answered before his leader could, "We're after the missing girls from Angelshade, on the border with Aranthor. Have you heard of them? Seven young maidens, taken hours before their debut. Did you see them or their captor pass through?"

I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, "I am the only maiden in this forest. You have come here for nothing."

"Mind your words, girl," their leader cut back in. "Don't be so arrogant to assume that just because you haven't seen something, it ain't there."

"My name is Mirela, not Girl, and I have no reason to lie to you."

The ranger spoke then, "This is the only place they could be. The Lord of the Forest is known to have an appetite for young girls. You should leave while you still can."

I slowly shook my head, "I am already on my way home. But I can tell you with sincerity that the Lord of the Forest would not bother to go so far as Angelshade to steal a few girls. There are always adventurers of some sort here. He has no need. You should not continue on."

Their leader let out a grunt of disgust, "Enough of this. Get home, girl."

He spat on the ground to punctuate his words before turning and continuing in the direction he had been going at a stomping gait. The ranger and mage both turned, quickly following after him, and the woman spared me an apologetic smile before joining them. I was not offended, though, and I only stood watching in fascination.

He kicked through the brush line into the small clearing with his companions stumbling after. His quiet grumbling came to a sudden stop when the first deathworm broke through the ground, darting directly up at him from below with the force of a thrust spear. The monster was as thick around as my forearm, and with how the big man hopped before crumbling to the ground, I could tell there was no armor between his legs.

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Within seconds, the worm was already digging up through his torso, and his wild convulsions did nothing to save him. The ranger was there beside him almost as soon as he hit the ground, hands trying to grip the monster as it bore deeper into their leader, but it was a hopeless endeavor. The monster was already at least a foot deep into the man, and its slick body was strong. Even if they were to pull it free, they would need a cleric to save him.

That mattered little as the second worm slammed into the ranger's lower back, sending him forward, where another worm crashed into his face. The mage started stumbling back, chanting out something, when another worm took him from the side. His ribs were no match for the magical maw that tore through them, and he was dead before he reached the ground.

Only the older woman managed to tumble out of the nest, and the rippling lines of rising earth racing toward her made it clear she was already being hunted. She saw them too and turned to run.

I was not foolish enough to remain on the ground beside a deathworm nest, so I hauled myself back into my tree. The woman spotted me, eyes wide with desperation, and ran toward me with her hands outstretched in a silent plea. I blinked at her, shrugged, and when she leapt to reach me, I caught her hand and pulled her up with ease.

"We must climb higher. Some of them can be up to ten feet long, but they will not leave the earth entirely."

I did not wait to see if she would listen this time. I simply turned and began to climb. When I was at a spot where I knew I'd be safe, I sat down, one leg over either side of the thick branch that was my perch, and leaned back against the tree to watch the feast below. There were seven or eight of the worms pulling the fallen adventurers apart. The woman pulled herself up in front of me, sitting and turning to see what I was watching on the ground.

"You knew they were there." Her voice was dull and hollow.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you warn us?"

It was a ridiculous question, but there was some accusation to it, and I felt that was unwarranted.

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