The thunderous crash exploded across the domed ceiling of the Ten Holy Temples, and for half a second, time itself seemed to freeze.
Shards of stained glass rained down like a torrential storm, refracting a myriad of colors in the sunlight streaming through the newly formed hole.
Dust billowed up from the center of the impact, slowly spreading to obscure the figure of the newcomer.
The dust gradually cleared.
A petite figure stood up from the crater of shattered stone slabs.
Silver hair, crimson eyes—she appeared to be a young girl no more than twelve or thirteen years old.
She casually brushed the dust off her clothes, a gesture that carried a composure incongruous with her appearance.
Then she raised her head, her gaze sweeping across the entire hall like lightning.
Finally, it came to rest on Riya.
“Riya!!!”
She spread her arms wide, her voice booming and echoing through the empty hall:
“Mommy’s here to save you!!!”
Dead silence.
Absolute, utter silence.
The nobles’ eyes went wide, their mouths hanging open, faces painted with bewilderment and disbelief.
They looked from the silver-haired little girl to Riya, their brains working overtime but failing to produce any reasonable explanation.
“Th-that… who is that child?”
“Did she just call Riya what? Mommy? Mother?”
“Not only did Riya become a Blood Race… she already has a child?!”
“But that child looks like she’s twelve or thirteen, doesn’t she? How old is Riya?”
Whispers spread like a plague. The nobles huddled together, their gazes darting between Riya and the little girl, trying to find any resemblance in their features—and there was some, that silver hair, those crimson eyes, the outline of their faces…
Angelica was one of the first to react.
Her face instantly turned ashen.
As Riya’s sister, she knew too well her younger sister’s whereabouts over the years—Riya had almost never left her sight, especially during crucial developmental stages.
How could she suddenly have a child this big?
Unless…
Angelica whirled around, her gaze stabbing into Yize like a knife.
Feeling Angelica’s murderous stare, Yize was speechless.
He quickly waved his hands. “Wait! You don’t think I—”
“Over six years ago,”
Angelica interrupted him.
“Holy cow!”
Yize nearly jumped up.
“At that time, I was only twelve or thirteen myself! Riya was even younger! We were both just kids, okay! This doesn’t make biological sense!”
Angelica was stunned.
She only then realized she had let her anger cloud her judgment.
Indeed, six years ago, Riya had barely been ten. Even if something had happened, it was impossible for her to have a twelve or thirteen-year-old child now. Logically, it didn’t add up.
Sara, listening nearby, unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.
But then she felt her own reaction was strange, so she quickly adjusted her expression and regained her composure.
Meanwhile, Vivian—the suddenly arriving silver-haired “girl”—had already hopped and skipped her way over to Riya.
She paid no attention to the eerie atmosphere around her, nor did she see the glaring Blood Race members and the bodies strewn across the floor.
She just excitedly circled Riya, tiptoeing to touch here, pinch there, as if inspecting some precious item.
“Let Mommy see… mm, no injuries, good, good.”
“Oh dear, your face is a bit pale. Haven’t you been eating well?”
“And these clothes, why are they all tattered? Who bullied you? Tell Mommy, and Mommy will tear them—”
Her voice abruptly stopped.
Because when her hand pressed on Riya’s shoulder, she sensed the power surging within Riya.
It was… the power of a Calamity Demon King-level being.
The smile on Vivian’s face froze, replaced by sheer, utter shock.
She took a half step back, her scarlet eyes wide as saucers, and re-examined Riya from head to toe, meticulously.
“You…”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“How… how is this possible…”
The enhancement of a Blood Race’s strength was an exceedingly slow process.
Bloodline purity set the upper limit, and reaching that limit required a long accumulation of time—decades, centuries, even longer.
Vivian herself was an Ancient Pureblood, having lived for who knows how many years before stepping into the realm of the Calamity Demon King.
And Riya, a newly transformed Pureblood, theoretically needed years of sedimentation at the True Demon Lord level just to have a chance of touching this level.
But now, the aura emanating from Riya clearly stood firmly on the threshold of the Calamity Demon King.
This completely defied the normal rules of Blood Race power growth.
“Mother?” Riya called out softly, her tone respectful but laced with confusion.
That single word “mother” exploded like a thunderclap within the Ten Holy Temples.
The nobles who had just been whispering fell silent instantly.
Everyone looked as if their throats had been grabbed, staring dumbfounded at the scene.
Mother?
That little girl who looked only twelve or thirteen… was Riya’s mother?
This was a hundred times more absurd than “Riya having a child!”
Angelica, who had just calmed down, felt her emotions surge again.
She stepped forward, her voice laced with suppressed anger.
“Riya! What nonsense are you talking about? Why are you calling a little girl ‘mother’?”
Riya turned to look at her sister and explained calmly,
“She is indeed my mother. In the sense of bloodline.”
“In the sense of bloodline…”
Angelica repeated the word, then suddenly understood.
“You mean… on the Blood Race side?”
Riya nodded.
Vivian, meanwhile, had come back to her senses from the shock.
She tilted her head, sizing up Angelica with a puzzled expression.
“Riya, why is this person so angry? It’s not like we’ve done anything to her.”
“She is my sister from when I was human,” Riya said.
“Oh—” Vivian drew out the word, a look of sudden realization dawning. “So she’s the sister.”
She waved her hand in a magnanimous gesture.
“Well, since she’s your sister, I’ll forgive her. After all, she’s just worried about our Riya.”
The tone, the manner—it was exactly like an elder indulging a wayward junior.
Angelica’s chest heaved with fury, but looking at Vivian’s childish appearance, she didn’t know what to say.
In the end, she could only stand there, teeth clenched, her face alternating between pale and red.
Vivian ignored her. She turned to face the entire hall, hands on her hips, puffing out her small chest.
“All of you listen up—”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly to every corner of the hall, carrying a kind of authority that belied her appearance.
“I am Vivian.”
She paused, her scarlet eyes scanning everyone, enunciating each word.
“And I am the Blood… Empress.”
The moment the words fell, the entire Ten Holy Temples sank into an even deeper silence.
The Empress?
The Blood Empress?
A harmless-looking little girl?
The vast majority of nobles’ first reaction was disbelief.
This was too absurd. It sounded like a fairy tale. How could the Blood Empress look like this? And why would she suddenly appear here?
But the next moment, their doubts were shattered.
Because Vivian wrinkled her nose, apparently dissatisfied with the crowd’s reaction.
“Looks like you don’t really believe me.”
She said softly, a hint of displeasure in her tone.
“Well then, I’ll just have to prove it to you.”
She didn’t even make any exaggerated movements. She just stood there quietly.
But an invisible pressure began to emanate from her petite form.
It wasn’t a release of power, nor an outburst of Mana, but something more fundamental—the suppression of bloodline, the declaration of rank, the absolute dominion of the higher over the lower, stemming from the very essence of life.
The first to be affected were the Blood Pillars.
“Thud—”
Including Number One.
This Chief of the Blood Pillars, the one most heavily modified by Jellal, the strongest, the most arrogant, now had a look of incredulous shock written on his face.
Half of his bloodline was Blood Race; the other half was alien power from his Dragon Bone Essence modification.
In theory, the Bloodline Suppression effect on him should have been greatly diminished, perhaps even nullified.
But now, he was kneeling.
Not forced down by power, but summoned by the call of the bloodline—that instinctive worship of a pure origin, etched into his genes.
This could only mean one thing: the purity of the Blood Race bloodline within this little girl calling herself Vivian far surpassed the one who had given them life, Kasmir.
Far surpassed.
“This… this is impossible…”
Number One muttered in a low voice, his tone filled with the shock of a crumbling worldview.
Although the nobles could not feel the bloodline suppression, they could see the Blood Pillars’ reactions—the monsters that had just made them tremble with fear were now all kneeling on the ground like pilgrims worshiping. This visual impact was more convincing than any words.
“She… she really seems to be the Blood Empress…”
“The true leader of the Blood Race? But I thought that black-haired youth was…”
“What now? A Blood Empress, a Calamity Demon King-level Riya, and those Blood Pillars… Do we really have a way out?”
Fear like cold water drowned every noble’s heart.
Even Angelica fell silent. She looked at the kneeling Blood Pillars, at Vivian’s calm but majestic profile, and finally realized—this was not something she could contend with.
Any scheme, any power, any human strength seemed pale and laughable in the face of this rank suppression arising from the essence of life.
Riya spoke up then, her voice breaking the oppressive silence.
“Alright, Mother, it’s over. Yize has already avenged me.”
Mentioning Yize, Riya suddenly noticed—he was gone. Looking around, that black-haired youth had disappeared behind the crowd at some point.
As soon as Vivian heard Yize’s name, she got angry.
She puffed out her cheeks and said angrily, “Where is Yize? That bastard! He promised to come back together, then abandoned me to take a faster magic teleportation array!”
The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became, her voice even taking on a crying tone.
“He made me go hungry the whole way! Starving for tens of thousands of kilometers! That heartless jerk!”
Riya was stunned. “Mother,” she asked softly, “have you… seen Yize recently?”
“Yes!” Vivian nodded vigorously, the resentment on her face growing heavier.
“I was in Stana—that city tens of thousands of kilometers away—and thought I was seeing a ghost! I never expected to meet him there!”
She gestured excitedly. “Then he promised to come back with me, and said he’d cover meals! And what happened? That bastard! He took the teleportation array and ran off first! Left me alone there!”
As Riya listened, complex emotions surged in her heart. So during the time Yize disappeared, he had gone that far. So he and Mother… had become this close?
Vivian was still complaining, but as she spoke, her gaze finally fell on the eight Blood Pillars kneeling on the ground, especially Number One. Her brow furrowed, a trace of disgust flashing in her scarlet eyes.
“You lot…,” she said slowly, approaching, her tone turning cold. “What are you?”
She stopped in front of Number One, looking down at the Chief of the Blood Pillars.
Her nose twitched slightly, as if sniffing some unpleasant odor. “Not only do you have Blood Race bloodline, but also that disgusting… stupid dragon’s stench?”
She said “stupid dragon” with extreme disdain, as if talking about something dirty.
Her eyes swept over Number One, finally fixing on his heart.
There, Dragon Bone Essence and Blood Race bloodline were fused in a twisted manner, forming a bizarre and powerful source of energy.
“Especially you,” Vivian’s voice grew colder. “Half of your bloodline is from that stupid dragon.”
She took half a step back, rubbing her arms as if to scrub off goosebumps. “So disgusting.”
She spoke those three words softly, but the disgust was undisguised.
This feeling was as if the “thing” before her was a malformed product of an accidental union between her and that “stupid dragon.”
Although it was impossible in reality, the physiological revulsion from the mixed bloodlines was real.
Vivian raised her right hand. Her slender, fair fingers extended, and a dark red Blood Qi began to condense at her fingertip.
The Blood Qi was extremely dense, compressed to the extreme until it even showed a nearly black luster; the surrounding space was slightly distorted by the high concentration of energy.
She aimed her fingertip at Number One’s forehead. No killing intent, no anger, only a pure indifference like throwing away trash.
Number One’s whole body went stiff.
He couldn’t move, not only because of bloodline suppression but also because of the destructive energy within the Blood Qi at Vivian’s fingertip.
He would die. He would really die.
“Wait.”
A voice came from behind the crowd. Yize pushed aside the nobles blocking his way and walked out.
He had been hiding in the crowd just now because he didn’t want Vivian to notice him—this woman was too much trouble when she threw a fit. But now, he had to come out.
When Vivian saw Yize, the Blood Qi at her fingertip instantly dissipated.
Her eyes lit up, but then she immediately put on a stern face and glared at him angrily. “Yize! So you were here!”
She put her hands on her hips. “What were you doing hiding in the crowd? Feeling guilty, huh?”
Yize sighed and walked up to her. “I was just seeing you two mother and daughter reunite, didn’t want to interrupt your private chat, that’s all.”
“Private chat?” Vivian got even angrier. “I think you were deliberately hiding from me! Afraid I’d settle scores with you!”
As she spoke, she rushed forward and started pounding her little fists on Yize.
“You bastard! Leaving me alone in Stana! Do you know how hard it was for me all the way?! Couldn’t even eat enough! Almost got lost!”
The fists fell like raindrops, but to Yize’s constitution, it wasn’t even a tickle.
Though Vivian wasn’t using much force anyway. He looked somewhat helplessly at Vivian “attacking” him.
Finally, he simply reached out, grabbed the back of her collar, and lifted her up like a kitten.
“Hey! What are you doing! Put me down!”
Vivian flailed her limbs in the air but couldn’t reach Yize.
“Calm down first,” Yize said, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness like coaxing a child.
“I won’t calm down! I want compensation! You have to give me delicious food! Or I won’t forgive you!” Vivian said huffily, but her struggling lessened.
Yize set her down and rubbed his temples. “Fine, fine, I’ll feed you later. But let’s deal with business first.”
Only then did Vivian settle down a bit, but she kept muttering, “That’s more like it…”
Throughout it all, Riya watched quietly from the side. Her feelings were complicated.
On one hand, seeing her mother safe and having come specially to “save” her, she felt warmth. Although her mother seemed unreliable, her concern was real.
On the other hand… she watched the interaction between Yize and Vivian.
That natural, familiar, even somewhat intimate atmosphere… When did Mother get so close to Yize? How long had they been together in Stana? What had they been through? Why did Mother show that… almost dependent attitude toward Yize?
Riya knew she was jealous. It was absurd—being jealous of her own mother. But that subtle feeling of being left out was real.
Yize then turned to Number One, glanced at the other Blood Pillars, and finally said to Vivian, “This guy—and the other Blood Pillars—I still have use for them. Especially him,” he pointed at Number One. “I have a junior… who has unfinished business with him.”
Vivian pouted. “That stupid dragon’s stuff is disgusting to look at. But since you say it’s useful, then keep it.”
She paused, then suddenly thought of something, her eyes lighting up. “Oh right, Yize! On the way here, I sensed a familiar aura!”
“Familiar aura?” Yize raised an eyebrow.
“Mm!” Vivian nodded vigorously. “It’s that boy Kasmir. My former… subordinate. He seems to be nearby, and he’s heading this way.”
At these words, all the Blood Pillars were dumbfounded. This ancient vampire loli was actually their king’s king?