— Bloodline's Call —
The cool, blue glow of the monitor illuminated Eren's face in the specialized cell. After ten agonizing hours, the progress bar finally reached its end.
The video began to play, each frame rendered in hyper-realistic clarity, as if he were there himself.
Eren's breath hitched. His heart hammered; his fingers trembled.
"Found it!" His pupils constricted sharply.
In the footage, as the killer stepped into the room, a nearly imperceptible shadow drifted down from his head—a single strand of hair.
A flame of hope ignited instantly.
With this, he could perform the Bloodline Tracking Art and pinpoint the true culprit's location.
There was no time to lose.
Eren immediately summoned Kane and headed straight for the Veyne family villa, which was still under strict lockdown. The scene remained intact, and the hair was quickly located.
Even the most powerful martial artist could alter their appearance and voice, but they could not change the spiritual imprint deeply rooted in their bloodline.
Eren carefully retrieved the hair, splitting it into two portions—one for backup, the other placed into the center of an activation array. Spiritual power surged, the runes flaring to life.
"Found you."
His eyes snapped open, gleaming with fierce excitement.
Eren immediately called City Lord Arden. "Target acquired. Assemble a team and move out with me, now!"
A moment of silence on the other end was followed by a stunned, low reply. "Understood."
After a moment's thought, Eren made a second call.
"Darius—bring Lyra. Tell her... the real killer is about to be revealed."
---
"What? The real killer?!"
Lyra felt as if she'd been struck by lightning.
She had been utterly convinced that Eren was the demon, the one who had destroyed her life.
Now she was being told the murderer was someone else?
Then her revenge, her hatred—had it all been a cruel joke?
"No... Even if he wasn't the one who killed my family, what he did to me... is still unforgivable."
Lyra muttered to herself, trying to use her resentment to steady her crumbling sanity.
Yet, her feet, almost of their own accord, had already carried her out of the office door.
---
— Shadow in the Graveyard —
At the desolate entrance to the suburban cemetery, a bleak wind stirred the dead leaves into spirals, their dry rustling whispering like breath dragged across stone.
The iron gate stood half ajar, creaking faintly with each gust—as if something inside were waiting.
Arden arrived with a large contingent of men, their footsteps crunching against gravel as they converged with Eren. The air felt heavier the moment they stepped past the boundary, as though the cemetery itself resisted intrusion.
Not far away, a black vehicle bearing a special emblem rested in silence, its engine long cold.
Arden's face tightened at once.
"Vigil-Wyrm... That's Ethan's car. What the hell is he doing here?"
Eren's expression hardened.
Vigil-Wyrm—appearing here, at this precise moment.
Too timely. Too clean.
Was the real culprit connected to them after all?
And if that was true—
then the Caelthorn family massacre twenty-three years ago might not have been an isolated tragedy, nor a coincidence of fate.
"Who the killer is," Eren said quietly, "we'll find out inside."
Suppressing the churn in his chest, he stepped through the gate first. Arden and his men followed, their formation tightening instinctively.
The cemetery swallowed them whole.
Tall trees loomed on both sides, their branches interlocking overhead. Sunlight filtered through in torn fragments, scattering across the tombstones in fractured patterns—names half-erased, dates eaten away by time.
Eren slowed. His eyes closed.
His spiritual sense unfurled like a net, extending outward—
Locked.
Ahead.
The presence was unmistakable. Cold. Dense. Malignant.
Soon after, Darius and Lyra arrived from the opposite path.
"He's inside," Darius said in a low, controlled voice, placing himself half a step in front of Lyra. "Stay close to me. The Overlord's orders. This target is extremely dangerous."
His tone allowed no argument.
Lyra pressed her lips together, nodding lightly. Her heart was racing, but beneath the fear, something else stirred—
That calm authority, the certainty in his stance, sent an unexpected warmth through her chest.
Who... who was he really?
—
The distance closed.
One hundred meters.
Fifty.
Thirty.
With each step, the pressure intensified. The invisible connection sharpened, tugging against Eren's perception like a hooked line. His heartbeat thundered in his ears—not fear, but anticipation.
Then the heart of the cemetery came into view.
Ethan.
Aveline.
And another Vigil-Wyrm agent—Fraser.
All three were locked in combat.
Before them stood a humanoid figure cloaked in writhing black energy, its outline flickering as though reality itself rejected its form. The aura it radiated was colder than the graves beneath their feet—an emptiness that devoured warmth, sound, and intent alike.
Both sides sensed the intrusion at the same instant.
The shadow turned.
"So," it rasped, its voice like fabric tearing across bone, "it's you."
"It's me."
Eren stepped forward, his gaze sharp as frozen steel.
"Didn't expect me to find you, did you?"
A flicker of relief cut through him.
The killer wasn't Vigil-Wyrm.
But this form—
What kind of forbidden art had twisted a human into this?
"Eren, get out of here!" Aveline shouted, panic cracking through her composure as she hurled a barrage of ice spikes forward.
Ethan surged in tandem, black blade flashing with lethal arcs. Fraser followed, his body blazing with golden light as sigils flared along his arms.
Three against one—
And still, they were being driven back.
"Stand aside!" Eren barked. "Let me handle this!"
"You'll just get in the way—" Fraser snapped—
Then froze.
Mid-sentence.
Mid-motion.
The shadow halted completely, its limbs locked as though caught in invisible restraints.
Eren's eyes were glacial.
"Move again," he said flatly, "and you lose your head."
The fishing line had revealed itself once more.
"The Heavensilk Thread?"
The shadow's voice shifted—surprise seeping through the distortion. "You possess such a treasure?"
Heavensilk Thread?
Eren's heart jolted.
So that was its true name.
"Speak," he demanded. "Who are you? Why frame me? Why slaughter the Veyne family?"
"Hmph."
The shadow chuckled lowly. "You think a few threads can hold me? Naive."
Then—
It forced itself apart.
With a sickening tear, its own head ripped free, spinning upward into the air.
"No—!"
Eren's pupils contracted violently.
If it died now, the truth would be buried forever.
Aveline, Ethan, and Fraser, however, reacted with instinctive relief—expressions brightening, weapons lowering.
A mistake.
The very next second, their smiles froze.
From the severed neck and the airborne head alike, dark red, fleshy tendrils burst forth—squirming, intertwining, stitching flesh back to flesh with obscene speed.
In less than a breath.
The head reattached.
A wet, final thud echoed through the graveyard.
A chill crawled up every spine present.
What...
what kind of monster was this?
"Good," Eren said suddenly.
He smiled.
"Good," he repeated. "You're not dead. Excellent."
The shadow blinked, genuinely startled.
"You're... happy I survived?"
"Enough talk."
Eren's gaze flashed like lightning.
"Who sent you?" he roared. "Where is Lucien Veyne?!"
"Hmph."
The shadow sneered, contempt thick in its tone. "As if you're worthy to know."
"Then I'll beat the answers out of you."
Eren vanished.
The air detonated as he closed the distance in an instant, his palm cutting through the wind with force capable of shattering stone.
The shadow raised an arm, scoffing.
"You think you can fight m...
Before the sentence could finish—
BOOM!
Thunder exploded.
The kick landed squarely. Tombstones shattered as the shadow was hurled backward like a discarded corpse.
Eren didn't relent.
He appeared above it, foot slamming down.
The earth split.
The shadow was crushed deep into the soil, cracks radiating outward like a spiderweb.
"Had enough?!"
Eren's eyes burned crimson, spiritual light erupting beneath his heel.
"Heh..."
The shadow laughed from the crater, voice warped, exhilarated, unhinged.
"Is that all the strength you have? It barely itches."
The shadow' presence was shifting, its aura condensing rather than dispersing, as though the beating it had just received was not a setback... but a trigger.
It was beginning to respond.