Chapter 58: A Few Matters Regarding the Blood Clan

“The bloodline, or what you ordinary people call vampires, first spread from Europe to the Americas. As for their true origin, it has long been lost to history; since the dawn of mankind, we have always walked in your shadow.

I was transformed into a vampire in 1821, when we still lived in Germany. My father was a grand duke of a small principality. That same year, the French Lion, Napoleon, who had once swept across Europe, finally departed from this world, and there was a collective sigh of relief across the continent.

One day, my father—now Duke Cullen of the Vampire Elders’ Council—set out with his men to suppress a rebellion in our territory. Later, I heard it was the work of a heretical cult; our soldiers clashed fiercely with the cultists.

At first, my father’s forces won victory after victory, but just as triumph seemed certain, the sky darkened as a swarm of locusts descended, mingled with countless bats that blotted out the sun.

The army was thrown into chaos. My father managed to escape the carnage and returned home a changed man, shutting himself away in his room and refusing to emerge for days.

Then, one night, he entered my room, his mouth stained with blood, kissed my neck, and bade me drink his blood. Thus, our family of seven—my two sisters, my brother, and I—were all transformed into vampires.”

As Stefan spoke, his expression grew distant, as if reliving the night his own father turned him into an immortal monster.

Lin Xiao and the others listened, utterly fascinated. Vampires had always been the stuff of legend—embodiments of the night, paragons of elegance, and sources of terror. Compared to werewolves, vampires were more widely known, shrouded in greater mystery, and surrounded by countless tales.

Who could resist their allure? Not only were they strikingly handsome, but most held noble, wealthy, and powerful positions, wielding mysterious powers that only heightened their renown.

Regaining his composure, Stefan continued, “Because of my father’s status, we kept a large number of blood servants, whose sole purpose was to provide us fresh blood. This arrangement lasted for fifty years, until 1871, when Prussia defeated the Second French Empire and Germany unified at last.

My father was stripped of his title, lost his lands and subjects, and our supply of blood dwindled dramatically, forcing us to hunt for sustenance.

Our activities soon attracted the authorities’ attention. The ancient order of vampire hunters, the Knights Templar, began to pursue us. My brother and sisters fell to their blades; only Damon and I managed to escape with our lives.

My father eventually decided Europe was no longer safe for us. At that time, America had just ended its Civil War, and waves of European immigrants poured into the New World—so we, too, crossed the Atlantic.

For over a century, human technology advanced at a breathtaking pace, inventing ever more deadly and numerous firearms, squeezing our kind into ever smaller shadows and making hunting increasingly perilous.

Many among our ranks sought new sources of blood and discovered that animal blood could sustain us. Disgusted by the taste of human blood, I joined their ranks.

But my father and Damon always insisted that animal blood could never match the flavor of human blood. They couldn’t abide the foulness, rejected our choice, and called us the Fallen, ostracizing us from the clan.

I grew weary of such isolation and left home, drawn by a peculiar aura to Hawkins Township, where I have remained ever since.”

After recounting his tale, Stefan took a sip of wine, a faint flush coloring his cheeks.

Jesse listened, spellbound. A lifespan of over 160 years, bearing witness to nearly all the great events of modern history: the Napoleonic Wars, the unification of Germany, the rise of the Empire on which the sun never set, the American Civil War, two world wars—just the thought was enough to make one’s heart race.

But Lin Xiao heard something different. Stefan had only given up drinking human blood in recent decades—how many had perished at the hands of his family during that previous century? The number could surely be counted in the tens of thousands.

There was no such thing as an innocent vampire!

Sensing Lin Xiao’s mood, Stefan’s voice grew heavy. He raised his head and said, “I know I’m not innocent. Hundreds, perhaps thousands died by my fangs. Their screams at the moment of death haunt my nights, robbing me of sleep.

Yet, on that day when I entered the classroom and saw Jonathan, a voice inside me whispered: ‘This boy is the one I’ve been searching for—the one who can end my suffering.’”

“Hold it,” Lin Xiao interrupted quickly. “If you want me to put you out of your misery, I’d be happy to oblige, but I have one rule: I don’t kill innocents. Since you’ve abstained from human blood for so many years, I have no reason to kill you. So don’t expect me to do it.”

Lin Xiao had only met Stefan a few times, and the thought of killing him now would surely leave a scar on his conscience.

Stefan looked embarrassed and hurried to explain, “It’s not that I want you to kill me. When I’m near you, I sense an unusual aura, something that calms my mind and eases the torment of my memories. The night after I met you, I actually slept soundly for once. That’s why I wanted to be your friend. But then Damon found me unexpectedly, and disaster followed.”

Now Lin Xiao, too, was a bit embarrassed. So Stefan didn’t want release—he just felt soothed around him. Since when did he have such an effect? He quickly changed the subject and asked,

“What about your Elders’ Council? And what level of power do your brother Damon and your father, Duke Cullen, hold? If they were human supernaturals, how would you rank them?”

Marquess, count, viscount, baron—if Damon was level eight or nine, then Duke Cullen must exceed level ten, reaching the power of one who has undergone the first transformation.

Stefan considered for a moment and replied, “Your strength is roughly equal to a full knight of the Knights Templar, or to a viscount among our kind. In terms of raw power, you’re not Damon’s match.

However, that ability of yours to summon lightning is especially devastating to us. Damon might not be able to kill you either—that’s why he fled the battlefield.

As for my father, I’m not trying to frighten you, but he’s now an elder among our people. Only a Holy Grand Knight of the Templars would have the right to face him in battle.

There are thirteen elders like my father in our clan—some are even marquesses, but their strength still rivals a Holy Knight, a whole tier above a regular knight.

Above the Elders’ Council are three princes, but they aren’t on the American continent; they reside in Europe. Their might is such that only legendary paladins can stand against them.

And above the princes is the source of our entire bloodline—the legendary Progenitor. No one in our clan knows where he is, or even if he still lives.

It’s said his power touches the realm of gods. Once, an angel descended to subdue him, and a battle shook the heavens. Since then, the Progenitor has vanished from the world.”

Stefan spoke with meticulous detail, even mentioning his ancestor, a clear sign of his sincere desire for friendship, warning Lin Xiao not to recklessly challenge the vampire hierarchy.

Lin Xiao pondered. The Progenitor’s strength likely matched that of a twice-awakened True Dragon Star Lord; the princes, those who had undergone a single awakening; dukes were close to an exorcist at level 20; and marquesses rivaled an exorcist after the first transformation.

Never had he imagined that the vampires in the real world wielded such overwhelming power. With his current level, the consequences of offending them would be unimaginable.

Wait—he had already offended them!