Sacrifices

Dawn Tower, war room.

The magic lamps had been deliberately dimmed to better display the holographic projection suspended above the tabletop—a World of Chaotic Blood map of factions that measured a full three meters square.

Ron sat upright in the main seat.

Miller stood before the map. The old soldier had not brought his wine flask today, and his brows were tightly furrowed.

"According to reports from our informants inside the three great clans..."

Miller's finger swept across the map, and three red dots lit up one after another.

The three points of light were spread to the east, north, and west of Dusk City, like three sharp swords hanging overhead.

"'Fang,' 'Claw,' and 'Wing' are secretly mustering their forces."

"What scale?"

"You could call it sending everything they have—at least in terms of elite combat strength."

Miller enlarged the map to the eastern waters.

"First, the 'Fang' clan."

In the holographic projection, a stretch of deep-blue sea was displayed clearly.

That was the Blood Mist Sea—the only ocean in the World of Chaotic Blood, shrouded year-round in a thin scarlet mist.

Legend had it that the mist had formed from the blood spilled in an ancient battle between an Archwizard and the primordial Vampires, and to this day it still carried a faint curse effect.

"They've assembled eight Bloodsail Warships, each capable of carrying over a thousand elite soldiers."

He tapped the icons of those warships with his hand.

"What's more troublesome is... they've summoned Leviathan from the seafloor."

As that name fell, the expressions of the others in the war room turned a little uglier.

"Leviathan?"

Silas was also sitting to the side at this moment, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief.

"That ancient sea beast bound by a bloodline Contract?"

"Exactly."

Miller brought up a piece