Now Facing The God...

"Vampires can influence and pressure the blood of others to some extent," Clark's voice was steady, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. 

"But they can't control it directly. And that's the limitation of a vampire's blood manipulation."

His words hung in the air as he paused, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled lazily from his lips as he exhaled, his eyes never leaving mine.

Most of what he said wasn't new to me. 

Vampires played a somewhat major role in the story, and their abilities had been explained in detail many times in the story. 

But I still stayed silent, focused, 

For the very part which was about to come. I would be getting information that the novel hadn't touched on, something that could change everything I knew.

After a moment, Clark spoke again, "But vampires don't really need the blood of other species. Their innate blood is strong enough as it is, and as they ascend to higher realms, their blood only grows stronger."

He paused again, this time to take another drag of his cigarette. 

Was he intentionally building suspension, you see that's the issue with the smoker.

But I can relate to it though.

When he finally continued, his voice got heavier, "Humans, though… their blood is much weaker. Even when they ascend, it can't compare to other species. So, why do you think the Stevenhearts took such pride in their blood manipulation if it was so weak and useless?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and I felt my pulse quicken.

He was right. I hadn't thought about it like that. 

Human blood was weak, so why were the Stevenhearts so feared?

"Here's the thing," he said, leaning in slightly. "The Stevenhearts had an innate ability that set them apart. From their prime, they were feared for possessing the ability to control and use the blood of other races."

So, fucking broke!! If someone could use phoenix blood, they'd basically be a god.

But it still didn't explain, the base question we had. Why I could inherit knowledge from Alastar? 

It didn't fit. 

"Using other races' blood is one thing and Overwriting class restrictions is another."

Clark's eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave me an approving nod. "You're indeed smarter than you look. Like you, Arc and I thought the same thing. During our last expedition... well—" He paused, and his expression shifted slightly like he was about to reveal something, he wasn't allowed to.

But honestly, I wasn't ready to hear them yet either. Anything more right now would've been too much to info dump for my already tired brain.

Clark paused, taking another drag from his cigarette before continuing. "So yeah, we realized that maybe the way we understood the Stevenhearts' ability was flawed. There's more to it than we initially thought."

I leaned forward slightly, sensing he was about to drop something important. "What is it then?"

"Adapt," he said simply.

"Adapt?" 

"Yes. The Stevenhearts' blood can consume and adapt to the abilities of other bloodlines. Think of it like the AB-positive blood type we humans have. It's the universal receiver, right? Stevenheart blood works in a somewhat similar way."

As I listened to his explanation, only one thought dominated my mind: 

The Stevenheart family, just who were they? And how the hell did they go extinct?

I couldn't help but wonder. With that kind of ability, they could've easily been humanity's strongest clan. Even Dracula in his prime would've had a hard time subduing them, so how did they fall?

But then a new idea struck me. If the memory inheritance worked and I could access even a fragment of Alastor's knowledge… I might be able to learn more about the Stevenhearts during their active time.

There should be knowledge about them, right? As Vampire's and Stevenhearts are closely related.

I glanced toward the cage, noticing a flicker of light. As I focused, I realized it was blood. Alastor's eyes were closed, and I couldn't sense any mana from him, yet right before his hand, a small drill of blood had formed. 

But before I could react, it shot toward me, aiming straight for my head.

Gulp.

I froze, an inch from death. If it weren't for Clark, I'd have been skewered. A circular barrier of invisible mana formed around us just as the blood drill neared, stopping it in its tracks.

"You couldn't even touch me at your best, so why this pity struggle," Clark said with a smirk, stepping closer to the cage. He looked down at Alastor, whose condition was worsening by the second. 

Then Clark turned to me, now his expression serious.

"Your bloodline probably hasn't activated yet," he said. "So focus on cultivating the blood essence Master Arc gave you. And inherit his memories while you're in the process."

"How do I inherit his memories?"

Alastor was the only Tremere introduced in the story, so I didn't know the details about how memory inheritance worked. 

Clark paused, his expression darkening. "Well…" He exhaled deeply, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, almost too calm. "You're not gonna like it, but it's the only way."

"What is it?"

"You'll have to tear open his brain," he said, not even flinching, "and consume the blood."

Gulp.

My mouth went dry. Fuck! That was more twisted than I'd imagined. I knew this process would be grim, but tearing open someone's brain? That felt like straight-up cannibalism, even if we were technically different species. 

He was still humanoid. 

I clenched my fists. Did I really have to go through with this?

Part of me recoiled at the idea, trying to reject it. But deep down, I realized something unsettling—I didn't feel anything. The creep and disgust I was supposed to feel wasn't there. Maybe it was because of the passive skill I had, or maybe it was something else. 

Still, the thought made me disgustingly excited: I was about to tear open the brain of Alastor von Helsing, the same high and mighty vampire I had read about, lifeless now before me. 

And in the twisted corners of my mind, I realized something even more disturbing—I wanted to hear him scream.

No… What was happening to me?

I pushed open the cage door, my steps slow but deliberate as I approached Alastor's powerless body. My blood manipulation skill formed a crimson knife in my hand, sharp and precise. I began to cut into his brain—slowly, deliberately. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw Clark's brows furrow in confusion, watching me closely. He didn't say anything, but I could sense the unspoken question in his gaze: Why are you doing it like this? Why so slow, like torture?

The truth was, I didn't know either.

I just… wanted to hear him scream.

And then it happened.

"Eeeeeeeeeee!" 

Alastor's scream pierced the air, shrill and high-pitched like the wail of a bat. It clawed at my ears, deafening, unbearable. But instead of recoiling, I felt a strange, sick satisfaction.

For that brief moment, I liked it.

"Asuka, you won't be able to inherit it if your bloodline isn't active. Use the blood essence," 

Clark's sudden voice rang out, it was cold, and he was still frowning at me. 

I could tell he didn't like what I had just done. 

But it didn't matter now. Alastor was already dead.

I quickly channelled my mana into the black ring on my finger, accessing the shimmering blue orb within.

It was cold, too cold. As I summoned it into my hand, a sharp, biting chill shot through me. My entire arm began to freeze up, frost creeping over my skin as the orb glowed in my palm.

Clark's eyes widened, his shock evident. He stared at the orb, disbelief etched across his face.

"Absurd!" His mouth was moving, but it felt like he was screaming without words. His eyes flicked back to mine, alarmed. "Asuka, focus! Don't lose consciousness! I'll help you!" His form blurred as he rushed toward me.

I heard him mutter something under his breath, his voice strained with panic. "Azaroth… Lord of the Abyss's blood essence? What the hell were you thinking, Arc? This kind of power will kill Asuka for sure!"

His words were barely audible. My mind was spinning, every inch of me burning with cold. And then I saw him—a towering figure looming above me, filling the entire space with his presence. His eyes, glowing like icy stars, locked onto mine. 

I couldn't move. And my lungs were burning as I took in the cold air.

It was suffocating.

It was like staring into the face of a god—or worse, a demon king.

The frost giant's massive hand reached out, covering the sky. There was no escape. His colossal palm descended, about to crush me with the weight of the heavens.

And then, through the haze of my mind, I heard a voice, a whisper.

"I will help you… but in return avenge the Helsing family for me."

"What…?" 

❖❖❖

{A/N}

Sorry guys chapter was much longer than regular. But still thanks for reading and if you found sevenheart's ability confusing, don't worry it will be explained in more detail in upcoming chapters.