Red's crimson eyes were no longer human.
They burned with hatred, rage, and something far deeper—something that had crossed the line between grief and madness.
The shattered remains of his home stood silent behind him. Blood still stained the wooden floor where his grandmother had fallen. The smell of iron clung to the air, mixing with smoke and fear.
Red's fists trembled.
"Humanity…" he whispered.
His voice was hoarse, stripped of warmth.
"I will take revenge. On every last one of you."
His knees almost buckled, but he forced himself to stand. The warmth he once felt in this world—kind smiles, simple meals, peaceful mornings—had vanished completely.
Only hatred remained.
Red raised his hand slowly and began chanting the incantation he had spoken inside the dungeon.
The same words.
The same offering.
"Hey… King of the Netherworld.
Ruler of souls.
Devourer of spirits.
Hear my call."
The air did not tremble.
No pressure descended.
No red moon rose.
Red swallowed and continued, voice shaking with desperation.
"I offer you… the souls of humanity itself."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The world refused to answer.
Red's eyes widened in disbelief.
"What…?" he muttered.
He tried again, louder, pouring every ounce of hatred into his voice.
"ANSWER ME!"
Nothing.
The spell failed completely.
Red staggered back, his breathing uneven. The realization struck him brutally—he was no longer standing at death's door inside the dungeon. The summoning had answered him once, and once alone.
His teeth clenched.
"…What the fuck."
His gaze drifted to the floor.
To her.
His grandmother lay motionless, her body cold, her expression peaceful, as if she were asleep. The woman who raised him. Protected him. Loved him when the world feared him.
Red slowly knelt beside her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I couldn't save you."
His fingers brushed her hand.
Tears fell, splashing onto the floor.
For several long moments, Red remained there, unmoving.
Then distant sounds reached his ears.
Metal clashing.
Boots.
Voices shouting orders.
Knights.
Red's head snapped up.
"I can't stay here."
He stood, turned away from the body, and ran.
Red sprinted through the narrow streets, his cloak fluttering behind him. Torches lit up the darkness as guards poured into the district.
"There! He went that way!"
"Surround the area!"
Red ducked into an alley, pressing his back against the wall. His crimson eyes glowed dangerously in the shadows.
*If they see my eyes, I'm finished.*
He took a deep breath.
*I need to disappear.*
A solution formed in his mind.
*A disguise.*
Red bolted out of the alley and rushed toward the market district. Shops were closing in panic, merchants hurriedly packing their goods.
A cloth merchant's shop stood open.
Red rushed toward it.
"Halt!"
Three guards spotted him instantly.
"There's the vampire!"
Steel rang as swords were drawn.
Red's expression hardened.
He drew his blade.
One strike.
The first guard collapsed, his head rolling across the stone.
The second lunged forward with a shout.
Red sidestepped and slashed diagonally. Blood sprayed across the wall as the guard fell.
The third guard froze in terror, then turned to run.
Red appeared behind him in a blink.
The alley fell silent.
Red wiped his blade and entered the shop.
Minutes later, he emerged transformed.
Gone were the worn adventurer clothes.
He now wore dark noble attire—clean, elegant, and expensive-looking. A long cloak covered his body. A silver mask hid his face completely.
He pulled the hood up.
*This kingdom is dead to me.*
Red looked once more in the direction of his home.
Then he turned away.
"The Great Eastern Empire," he murmured.
Days passed.
Red traveled cautiously, avoiding towns and main roads. At last, towering walls appeared before him—the gates of the Great Eastern Empire.
Guards lined the entrance.
One stepped forward.
"Identity?"
Red hesitated.
"I don't have one."
The guard narrowed his eyes.
"No identity, no entry."
Another guard suddenly reached out and grabbed Red's mask.
The mask was torn away.
Crimson eyes gleamed in the sunlight.
Gasps erupted.
"VAMPIRE!"
"Seize him!"
Red raised his hands slightly.
"I have never entered this kingdom before," he said calmly. "I have committed no crime here."
The guard laughed mockingly.
"You are a criminal designated by the Church."
Holy chains flew toward him, glowing with divine runes. They wrapped around his arms and torso, suppressing his strength instantly.
Pain shot through his body.
"Take him."
Red was dragged away, bound tightly, guards marching before and behind him. Villagers stared with fear and hatred.
Chains rattled with every step.
Red lowered his head.
*So this is how they judge.*
The towering structure of the Church soon came into view—cold stone, towering crosses, judgment carved into its walls.
Red was dragged inside.
The massive doors slammed shut.
Candles flickered.
Holy symbols surrounded him.
A voice echoed through the hall.
"The trial of the vampire heretic begins."
Red slowly lifted his head.
His crimson eyes glowed beneath the chains.
And deep within his shadow—
Something ancient stirred.