The Night Monastery pulsed like a heart in the dark.
Its spires of bone and iron curved toward the sky, dripping with red light. The dome's interior was alive with whispers—the screams of the hundred sacrifices trapped in its walls, echoing in endless agony. At the center stood the crimson crystal, throbbing with power, glowing as if it wanted to burst.
Selena Draculea walked barefoot into the ritual chamber. Her pale feet pressed on runes etched in blood, each symbol lighting up beneath her steps. Her gown trailed behind her, stained crimson, moving like smoke in the stale air. Her eyes burned with hunger. Her lips were already wet, even before the ritual began.
Lucas stood at the entrance, his silhouette framed by the red glow. He did not speak. He only watched, his gaze sharp and cold, as his Queen prepared to break herself open for power.
The system spoke first.
[Ding!]
[Night Monastery: Ritual chamber active.]
[Available Rite: Ritual of the Crimson Moon.]
[Requirements: Blood Quota ×100, Sovereign presence, lunar alignment.]
[Warning: Transformation will increase strength and speed but reduce restraint. Risk of frenzy ↑↑.]
Selena's smile curved slow and elegant, fangs catching the glow of the crystal. She tilted her head back, her hair spilling down her shoulders. "My King, tonight the moon bleeds. Let me bleed with it."
Lucas's voice was flat. "Do it."
She spread her arms wide. The runes flared to life, circling her in chains of crimson light. The crystal above her pulsed, sending tendrils of red into her body. Her skin glowed faintly, then cracked as lines of bloodlight etched themselves across her flesh.
She gasped, then laughed—soft, almost tender. "It burns," she whispered. "It sings in my bones."
The feeders in the Hives screamed in unison, their bodies convulsing. The Bone Dogs howled. The Sentinels struck their shields against the ground, trembling under the resonance.
Lucas's eyes narrowed as the system continued.
[Ding!]
[Ritual of Crimson Moon initiated.]
[Selena Draculea — Sovereign Vessel at 40% saturation.]
[Effects: Strength ↑↑, Speed ↑↑, Restraint ↓.]
[Projected outcome: "Blood Empress State."]
Selena's body arched backward, her gown tearing as her limbs stretched unnaturally. Her claws grew longer, sharper, shining like obsidian blades. Her fangs extended, dripping with blood before they even touched flesh. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating until they were nothing but burning red orbs.
She screamed—not in pain, but in ecstasy.
The Monastery answered her scream with a chorus of its own—the voices of the dead, the hundred sacrifices, echoing her joy and torment.
Lucas stepped closer, his boots ringing against the blood-soaked floor. He watched her body twist, her movements faster now, almost too fast to see. She blurred in the glow, shifting from one side of the chamber to another, leaving streaks of crimson light in her wake.
Selena laughed again, the sound sharp and elegant. She crouched low, her claws dragging along the floor, sparks flying where they cut stone.
"My King," she whispered, her voice trembling with madness and devotion, "I can feel every heartbeat in this castle. I can taste every drop of blood before it spills. I am faster than the night itself."
She vanished.
In the space of a blink, she appeared behind Lucas, her claws hovering just above his throat. Her breath touched his skin, hot and wet. Her lips grazed his ear.
"I could cut you open now," she whispered. "Drink you. Love you."
Lucas did not move. "You won't."
She trembled. Her claws scraped faintly against his neck, drawing a bead of blood. Her tongue darted out, catching it, savoring it. She shivered violently, caught between frenzy and obedience. Then, slowly, she lowered her hands.
Her laugh returned, soft and broken. "Yes. Because I am yours."
[Ding!]
[Selena Draculea — Transformation complete.]
[New Trait: Crimson Frenzy — Speed and strength increased 200%. In battle, Selena cannot be stopped until target is destroyed.]
[New Trait: Blood Eclipse Aura — Enemies within 30 meters suffer fear, paralysis, and hallucinations of being drained alive.]
[Warning: Hunger doubled. Frenzy state may override reason without Sovereign command.]
Selena dropped to her knees in front of Lucas, her body trembling, her hair spilling around her face. She looked up at him with eyes that burned like suns drowning in blood.
"My King," she whispered, her voice hoarse but beautiful, "the ritual has remade me. I am faster. Stronger. Sadder. Hungrier. I want to tear. I want to burn. I want to love you with claws."
Lucas placed his hand on her head, pressing her down gently, like a master taming a hound.
"Then you will," he said coldly. "On our enemies. Not me."
She moaned softly, almost in relief, almost in devotion. "Yes, my King. Always for you."
Outside, the Red Eclipse grew brighter, staining the sky deeper crimson. The Night Castle pulsed in rhythm with Selena's heartbeat. The Monastery's spires groaned, stretching taller, sharper, hungrier.
The system chimed again, louder this time, as though the world itself trembled at what it had just allowed.
[Ding!]
[Global Announcement.]
[Selena Draculea has completed the Ritual of Crimson Moon.]
[Warning: Sovereign-class Queen detected.
Movement speed: catastrophic.
Kill potential: extreme.]
[World Directive: All coalitions advised to mobilize. Delay = annihilation.]
Across the lands of "Global Lord", Lords read the message with pale faces. Some cursed. Some prayed. Some ordered armies to march.
And far away, in the Silver Banner stronghold, Lord Adrien Veyl clenched his fists. "If the Unknown Lord cannot be killed now," he said, voice sharp as steel, "then no one will live to see dawn."
Back in the Monastery, Selena lifted her face from Lucas's hand. Blood dripped from her lips, though she had not fed. Her aura spread like a storm, pressing against the walls until even the Sentinels outside trembled.
She smiled at him, elegant, terrifying.
"My King," she whispered, "let me hunt. Let me paint the night with their screams. I cannot stop. Please—give me someone to kill."
Lucas's gaze did not waver. His voice was steady, merciless.
"You'll have more than someone."
He turned toward the horizon, where torches flickered faintly in the distance—armies gathering, banners snapping. The coalition was coming.