Chapter 6: Blood Tower (5)

Silence hung heavy in the room.

It wasn’t just anything.

It was the position of Tower Master.

A glorious seat any mage would covet, and yet the immediate response was a refusal.

The elders froze on the spot, stunned.

It was completely unexpected.

If you asked any other mage to take the Tower Master’s seat, nine out of ten would jump at the chance.

Even if it was the Crimson Tower.

That’s how enticing the position was.

But…

‘How…?’

The girl who’d dropped that bombshell seemed oblivious to how outrageous her words were.

“Ahem… Maybe we misheard, so I’ll ask again. Will you be our Tower Master?”

An elder, pretending not to have heard, offered the position again, and Tepes looked up, thinking to herself.

‘What’s with these guys…? Are they that desperate for talent?’

She couldn’t fathom what about her prompted them to offer the Tower Master’s seat out of nowhere.

Sure, it’s not like no one’s seen her power.

The two blood mages who woke her knew a bit about her abilities.

Not everything, of course.

‘Those two must’ve told these old geezers about me.’

That was the only explanation that made sense.

Even then, it still didn’t add up.

If they were so gullible they’d offer the Tower Master’s seat based on hearsay, they’d probably agree to anything if you just asked for a guarantee.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“…Tch! I knew it!”

One elder slammed the desk and shot to his feet.

Another elder, startled, turned to him.

“What are you doing, Lord Vlad?!”

“That post was nonsense from the start! No matter how desperate we are, proposing the Tower Master’s seat based on some trashy community post? It’s practically dragging the Crimson Tower’s honor through the dirt!”

“Lord Vlad! Watch your words!”

Another elder, reacting just as fiercely, tried to calm Vlad down.

‘They called me here just to bicker among themselves…?’

Tepes found it absurd.

“You dumb con artist! It must’ve been those unqualified mages using editing magic to trick us! Get the hell out of our tower!”

Vlad, finally snapping, shouted with spit flying.

The Council fell into another heavy silence.

I scowled.

Hard.

“Hmph.”

Annoying.

“How rude.”

Utterly disrespectful.

As I crossed my arms and spoke, Vlad snorted.

“So what can you do, huh? If you’re so great, why don’t you show off that fancy blood magic of yours?”

“Ha.”

Who does he think he’s talking to?

This guy’s done for.

Time to make an example.

I’m not someone to be disrespected like this.

Back in the Hero’s party days, even as a regular vampire, not a True Ancestor, I crushed anyone who insulted me.

In this world, avoiding disrespect is key.

But…

“Fine. I’ll indulge your little game.”

It’s not about that right now.

I’m just pissed off at this bald old man’s attitude.

I flashed my fangs with a sinister grin.

“With your blood.”

Before he could react, I sent a spike of blood piercing through his throat.

“Guh, gurk…?!”

The old man, throat impaled by the blood spike, frantically tried to grab it, but it was no use.

“What the…?!”

“Lord Vlad?!”

As one elder faced death in an instant, the others glared at me with hostility, preparing to attack, but—

“Don’t worry. I’m not planning to kill him.”

I smirked and drew the blood from Vlad.

The system wasn’t lying when it said I’m the master of all blood and flesh in this world—his blood moved naturally under my command.

Vlad flailed, trying to stop the fountain of blood gushing out, but his body was already mine to control.

“Grr, grrgh…”

Drained of nearly all his blood, Vlad looked like a mummy on the verge of collapse.

The other elders tried to intervene, shouting that this was no different from killing him, but—

“Alive… and well…?”

Despite his skeletal appearance, Vlad wasn’t just alive—he was standing.

“H-How… this…”

Even he seemed baffled, muttering as he looked at himself.

Who said you could die?

“Without my permission, you don’t get to die.”

I freely manipulated the extracted blood, floating it in the air and shaping it into a human form—Vlad’s form.

Blood infused with mana, shaped like its former owner, took on the appearance of a soul.

“Blood magic… Why you lot call it that and try to use it as magic, I’ll never understand.”

I couldn’t have imagined it.

Blood magic, blood mages… Back in my day, there was no such thing as blood mages or even info on blood magic.

This world had no concept of vampires, being a game world, so it’s natural, but the fact that my vampire blood manipulation became “blood magic” passed down through generations? That’s astonishing.

In that sense, the Crimson Tower, home to blood mages, felt oddly endearing to me.

It’s like the legacy of the first blood mage—me—carried on through their admiration.

‘Strictly speaking, I’m not the founder of blood magic.’

I manipulate blood instinctively as a vampire, not through mana.

Now, as a True Ancestor, all blood in this world is like an extension of my limbs.

Do you need special effort to move your arms or legs?

It’s just instinct—you know how to move, so you do.

Toying with the blood casually, I figured it was time to give a warning and show just how great I am.

Why can’t people just see how amazing I am at a glance?

They always need a demonstration.

Grumbling to myself, I gathered the blood in my hand and lightly flicked it upward.

We’re on the top floor of the Crimson Tower anyway.

No one’s getting hurt if I shoot it toward the sky.

At my gesture, the blood rocketed upward like a storm of blades, slicing through the ceiling.

Crack!

The massive tower’s roof was torn open.

The sky was visible through the gaping hole.

“No… impossible…”

“The tower’s ceiling…?! That shouldn’t be possible…”

As the elders gasped, muttering in disbelief, I recalled the blood and caressed it as it swirled above my hand, thinking to myself.

‘Starting to feel a bit bad for them.’

It probably doesn’t hurt.

I drained all his blood, but my authority kept him alive, and I made sure he wouldn’t feel pain.

What he’s feeling now is the alien sensation of being alive despite having no blood, plus some discomfort.

And probably indescribable fear.

The fear of knowing I hold his life in my hands.

‘That’s enough.’

With that thought, I returned the blood to the bald man’s body.

‘Hm?’

I noticed it earlier, but…

Why’s this bald guy’s body so messed up?

No wonder he’s bald.

Feeling a bit sorry for the old man, and since he’d been a guinea pig for my True Ancestor powers, plus the fact that he came here because he liked blood magic, I felt a bit of kinship and wanted to help.

I purified his blood before returning it, focusing vitality into his pores.

“Oh, ooooh…?!”

As something started growing on Vlad’s bald head, the other elders gasped in shock.

Once the blood fully returned to his wounds, Vlad was no longer a bald old man but a robust, clean-cut middle-aged man with a full head of hair.

Rejuvenation was a bonus.

“Hm, that’s that.”

I crushed the waste-filled blood in my grip, obliterating it, then opened my parasol and turned around.

“Next time, learn to speak with some consideration for others’ feelings.”

Did they forget their manners because they got younger?

I’m older than them.

I’m over a thousand years old, even if I spent most of it sleeping.

With one last warning, I walked away.