Bloodline Eternal Rule

Moonlight fell upon the open ground of Weed Manor. Everyone stared blankly at the two children lying on the ground, utterly silent for a moment.

Tales lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath. His bare upper body had nothing but bandages over his wounds, and all he felt was cold and pain.

The silver-haired little girl in his arms propped herself up against his shoulder with a blank expression. Seeing the bandages on his chest—beneath which lay a silver-coin-sized burn wound—she sniffed the blood scent in the air, revealing a look of anticipation and intoxication.

That expression startled Tales into sitting up quickly. Before this dangerous Blood Race girl—whom he had long mentally cast as a boss monster that could turn into a bloodsucking corpse at any moment—could bare her fangs, he pushed her out of his arms.

Yordel and Chris appeared instantly before the two children.

"I'm fine, Yordel. Don't worry." Tales saw the wound on his secret guard's chest and gave a weary smile. The latter took off his cloak over his tunic and draped it over Tales.

Tales nodded. "Earlier, there was an urgent matter I had to handle."

He turned to another direction, where a large pit lay, and in it a legless, half-dead man.

Rolf the Wind Ghost, Midira Rolf. The struggler who broke his chains.

A survivor who refused to die, to end his suffering.

"Mr. Gilbert, please make sure to save that man," Tales said, his eyes dimming but firm as he addressed Gilbert in the distance. "If not for him, I probably wouldn't have lasted until you showed up."

And also, Tales said in his heart: He is the first person in this damned world that I have truly saved.

Gilbert nodded, directing the Terminus Swordsman beside him to tend to Rolf.

"Your Highness!" Chris's deathly still face was now flushed with emotion. He knelt on one knee before the silver-haired little girl, a blanket already in his hands, trembling as he draped it over her.

Tales's shirt was too small and torn in many places, barely covering the little girl's knees. Her two pale calves were exposed below—and the moment Chris thought of this, he shot a murderous glare at Tales.

Though Her Highness was of noble birth and cared nothing for the gazes of ants, Chris, as the loyal steward of the Corleone Family for over six hundred years, naturally had to consider everything for his mistress.

"Your Highness, you have finally awakened!"

The cute red-eyed little girl nodded expressionlessly, habitually taking Chris's offered hand, and spoke in the tone of a superior, word by word: "Chris, you have done well."

The little girl, with her baby-fat round face, spoke in a childish, adorable voice, lisping and babbling:

"Loyalty will be reworded."

It took Tales two seconds to understand what she meant.

Loyalty will be rewarded.

Then he burst out laughing.

Such a serious line, coming from a gap-toothed little girl, was just too ridiculous.

Chris, who had been nodding gratefully, glared at him.

"You are—Your Highness?" Rolana and Istrone flashed before the little girl, their faces uncertain. The former looked at her short stature and asked cautiously, "Your appearance... how did it become like this?"

The little girl lifted her crimson eyes, her expression complex as she glanced at Tales, then said indifferently:

"As long as my power recovers, I will turn back to my original form."

After saying this, the little girl looked at Tales's barely suppressed smile, seemingly unaware of her own pronunciation.

So she asked again, her face icy, with a hint of confusion:

"What's so funny?"

Tales couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into loud laughter.

This time, all three Blood Race members looked at him with ill intent, and Istrone's gaze carried an extra layer of wariness and awe.

"Nothing—ha ha—cough." Tales quickly covered it up with an unconvincing cough. "Nothing funny—ha ha—cough—sorry."

Gilbert, having finished with the Terminus Swordsman, walked up with Jinnie. The former leaned on his cane, doffed his hat respectfully, and said, "Honorable Mr. Tales, and this lovely Blood Race lady, perhaps you wouldn't mind explaining the situation to us?"

Tales put away his smile and shot Gilbert a grateful look.

"Mr. Gilbert, thank you for your rescue and sacrifice."

But he suddenly noticed that behind Gilbert, the graceful woman in her forties was looking at him with a complicated expression, her eyes deep and unreadable.

So this is the boy.

His and—that person's son.

Jinnie's eyes dimmed.

Tales didn't dwell on it. He turned back and continued, "Let's save the introductions for later. Enough blood has been shed tonight. For this, I and this..." He paused, glancing at the little girl who was trying to keep a stern face despite her childish cuteness, and hesitated:

"Serena Corleone, little sister—er, Lady!" Seeing the red-eyed girl's displeased expression, he quickly corrected himself.

"After friendly and pleasant negotiations..."

The little girl Serena suddenly felt an itch on her neck and subtly curled her lips.

"We have decided to set aside our grudges, end hostilities, and form an alliance. I will regularly provide my blood to Her Highness Serena, and Her Highness Serena and her subordinates will serve me until..."

Before Tales could finish, he felt Yordel's grip on his hand tighten sharply, and then two voices interrupted him urgently:

"Why should we serve you? We can trade other benefits, or just leave altogether..." This was from the red-haired, displeased Blood Race member Rolana.

"Mr. Tales! Your blood? That's too dangerous, how can you..." This was from the protective Gilbert.

But Tales simply raised his right hand and suddenly clenched it into a fist.

This was a gesture he often used in his previous life when leading undergraduate seminar discussions, to calm debates that grew too heated and unfocused.

Both of them fell silent at the same time.

The boy took a deep breath.

Tales let go of Yordel's support, ignored Gilbert's attempt to stop him, and walked slowly toward the Blood Race, speaking softly: "You serve me, in exchange for my protection."

"And I—for you, a group of homeless political refugees who can only wave the Corleone banner and freeload under the Iris Flower's mark—will provide shelter in the Starfall Kingdom, better shelter than the master of this estate can offer."

Chris, Istrone, and Rolana's faces all shifted at once, turning to look at Serena.

But the silver-haired, red-eyed little girl only gave a cold snort: "I din't tell him anythin'. He figgered it out himself."

Figured it out?

The rift with the Blood Bottle Gang, the discord with the estate's master, Istrone's words "given our current situation," and the third-floor pool that was actually a large-scale recovery ward disguised as a coffin.

The boy thought silently, piecing together these factors and signs—wasn't it all too obvious?

He knew the Blood Race opposite him were on high alert, but that was fine. At least the immediate problem was resolved.

Tales turned his head and looked sincerely at Gilbert and Yordel.

"Gilbert, Yordel, please trust me. I will provide blood to aid Her Highness Serena's recovery—ahem—without harming my health."

"I exchanged this promise for my safety just now, and for Her Highness Serena's friendship."

Gilbert stared at Tales for a long moment.

But behind him, Jinnie stepped forward with a complicated look in her eyes and spoke softly: "Gilbert, this is his promise—and the promise of his family."

Just like he did back then.

She silently added in her heart.

Gilbert let out a deep sigh and nodded to Tales: "Of course we trust you—but I will report this to... the appropriate party."

Tales smiled lightly.

He turned, ushering the Blood Race into everyone's line of sight, and said softly: "Then, allow me to formally introduce..."

But before he could finish, Chris solemnly stepped forward and spoke gravely:

"No need for your trouble."

"Before you all..." He gently supported the little girl beside him, who stepped forward unsteadily.

"Stands the true heir of the Corleone Family, the first among the seven great houses of the Night Kingdom of the Eastern Continent, the legitimate and orthodox ruler of the Hill of Suffering, Her Highness the Archduchess, Serena L.A. van Corleone."

Chris looked proudly at the humans. Behind him, Rolana and Istrone wore expressions of glory.

Serena, with her five-or-six-year-old little girl appearance, lowered her round face, pinched at a non-existent skirt, performed a curtsy, then raised her head expressionlessly.

Tales curled his lip inwardly—sounded impressive.

Gilbert and Jinnie exchanged a glance, seeing shock in each other's eyes.

Over six hundred years ago, after the Heaven-Shattering Earth-Rending Ending War, like many ancient races, the Blood Race split into eastern and western branches across the Ending Sea. The noblest thirteen clans went their separate ways to different continents.

The five clans of the Western Continent formed a family alliance and the Night Council, occupying the Feast Territory (or rather, they occupied a region and called it the Feast Territory). The eight clans of the Eastern Continent established a kingdom-style rule under the name "Night Kingdom," taking root on the eastern shore of the Ending Sea.

Over six hundred years, compared to their relatives in the Feast Territory of the Western Continent—who were fragmented and even forced to sign the "Human Nations and Long-Lived Races Convention"—the Blood Race of the Night Kingdom, under the iron-fisted rule of the infamous "Nightwing Monarch" Lanly Corleone, were far more cohesive and powerful, even heavily involved in continental affairs. In the Second and Third Continental Wars, they sent elite Blood Race warriors of the "Holy Blood Legion" to fight. In the latter war, the Nightwing Monarch himself once led his army to the very gates of Dragoncloud City, capital of the "Blade of the West Continent," the Ekster Kingdom.

But two hundred years ago, a political upheaval struck the Night Kingdom. The Nightwing Monarch, Lanly Corleone, vanished mysteriously. The eight great houses were severely weakened, and the Holier Family even defected en masse, crossing the sea to join the Night Council in the Feast Territory.

From then on, the Night Kingdom had only seven ruling clans. Having lost its only expert with the potential to break into the "True Realm" level, it gradually declined under the blows of the Radiant Sun Church.

As one waned, the other waxed. The Night Council of the Feast Territory in the Western Continent, with its six clans, worked hard to reform their corrupt and outdated systems, extensively engaged in diplomacy, and even rose to become one of the signatories of the "Fortress Concord," styling themselves the "Upper Six Branches of the Blood Race."

And this little girl before them claimed to be the master of the Hill of Suffering in the Night Kingdom—the nest of the Corleone clan, from which the Nightwing Monarch himself hailed.

Gilbert raised his head and spoke respectfully:

"Forgive my impertinence, but as far as I know, the current head of the Corleone Family and the actual ruler of the Hill of Suffering should be the Nightveil Queen, also the current sovereign of the Night Kingdom..."

"'The Crier,' Her 'Majesty' Kotrina L.A. van Corleone."

Gilbert deliberately stressed the titles "Nightveil Queen" and "Her Majesty," emphasizing the difference from Serena's "Her Highness."

Tales yawned, earning another glare from the already irritated Chris.

Serena's crimson eyes narrowed slightly. She pouted and stepped forward: "Me weepy little sister, Kotrina, unlawfully seized me inheritance from me Liege Father, His Majesty Nightwing, and usurped the Bloodsea Throne. But one day, I will reclaim the throne."

Her chubby cheeks tilted slightly. She clenched her little fists over her chest, closed her eyes, and recited the Corleone Family's motto:

"Blood rules forever."

Istrone and Rolana immediately straightened their faces, bowed humbly, clenched their fists over their hearts, and stepped back in unison with Chris, intoning:

"Blood rules forever."

This, this, this—Tales' face was covered in Black Lines.

Why not shout "Unite the martial world under one rule" while you're at it?

"Your help and support, I will surely repay." Serena opened her eyes, stared fixedly at Tales, and unconsciously licked her lips.

For example, by biting open my neck?

Tales rolled his eyes, dodging the little girl's eager gaze, and replied dismissively, "Wow, I'd be absolutely thrilled. Honored beyond words."

Serena's cheeks puffed up, clearly displeased with Tales' attitude.

Istrone, watching Tales' odd demeanor and recalling how he'd likely used the same tone to boss him around, felt a surge of irritation.

Looking at the prince's expression, he gave a cold smile and said to Tales:

"Little one, you probably don't understand the Night Kingdom across the sea."

"Let me put it this way."

"Even if your enemy were the Supreme King of Starfall, with the support and protection of our 'Holy Blood Legion,' he wouldn't dare lay a finger on you."

No sooner had he spoken than Rolana, standing beside Istrone, sensed something off.

The faces across from them were strange—especially the oddly grim Middle-Aged Noble and the black-haired woman with a sour expression.

Chris furrowed his brow, but he didn't have time to stop the golden-haired Blood Race from speaking.

After all, he'd fought the masked man before and knew he was a peak Extreme Realm expert.

Tales' face twitched.

Showing off is a sickness—it needs curing!

"Well then, I guess it's my turn to introduce myself," Tales said, scratching his head as he addressed the little girl. "Uh, I'm Tales, about seven years old now. Before that..."

Just then, the visibly annoyed Jinnie stepped forward without ceremony.

But before she could speak, Gilbert stopped her.

The gray-haired noble sighed. "I suspect our alliance won't be short-lived, and Your Highness Serena needs time to prepare for her restoration. So perhaps we should be honest with each other."

Count Gilbert Casso lifted his head, his gaze sharpening, and spoke a few brief words:

"This is Tales."

"Of the Starfall Kingdom."

"The next Supreme King."

A long pause.

A very long pause.

Just when Tales felt as though even the air had turned to stone, a breeze finally swept through.

"Heh heh, well."

He gave an awkward, foolish smile and waved at the four petrified Blood Race members:

"Thanks for your... support and protection from the Holy Blood Legion."

Behind him, Jinnie let out a snort of laughter.