The past events no longer mattered to Hades. What was important now was the future. For Hades, only the future deserved his focus. All he needed was to remain steadfast in his beliefs and determination, and that would be enough for him.
Miracles? Even if the miracles that had occurred were due to some higher-dimensional being's gaze, it no longer mattered. After all, what difference did it make?
...
In the Sea of Chaos, within a small world set in a medieval period, there stood an ancient castle deep in a forest.
"Master!"
A respectful elderly butler slightly bowed, his expression full of reverence. Dressed in a tailored suit, with his hair slicked back, he looked every bit the perfect gentleman.
At the sound of the butler's voice, a figure slowly lifted his head. Rising from his bed, this figure possessed an appearance that could only be described as both bewitching and otherworldly. He looked less like a human and more like a beautiful, sinister creature.
At that moment, a strange glint flickered in his eyes.
Bewitching.
Strange.
Beautiful.
It was hard to imagine these words describing the same being, yet here he was—the master of the castle: Ehrhardt.
"Hmm," Ehrhardt nodded quietly. "Reibold, is everything ready?"
Reibold, the butler, replied respectfully, "Master, everything is prepared."
Ehrhardt nodded again, standing up and walking toward the window. He gazed out at the dark, moonlit sky, sinking into a moment of silence.
Sigh
The elegant vampire let out a soft sigh, filled with helplessness. As the last remaining member of the pureblood vampire clan, Ehrhardt's power, status, and abilities should have been unrivaled.
However, now he was forced to hide away in this remote family estate, living like a hunted creature. All the glory he once had was now completely gone.
But Ehrhardt understood clearly: he had no one to blame but himself. His weakness was the sole reason for his downfall.
As the last pureblood vampire, Ehrhardt was simply too weak. He couldn't compete with the powerful archbishops of the Church, the holy sisters, or even the wolves—those cursed werewolf enemies of his kind. In every way, he was utterly outmatched.
It was a feeling of despair that filled his heart.
Still, Ehrhardt did not curse the heavens or others for his fate. He had no right to do so. His weakness was undeniable, and lamenting wouldn't change that.
Others might have made different choices, but for Ehrhardt, that kind of mentality wasn't an option. He refused to take that path.
Yet deep down, Ehrhardt couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He truly didn't know where to go from here. All the brilliance and power he had once held were gone.
Now, everything had vanished. Weakness had become his curse, and in any world, weakness was a sin that could never be erased.
Because of his weakness, Ehrhardt had no choice but to hide away, even if it felt like living like a cornered rat.
Taking a deep breath, Ehrhardt spoke in a low voice, "This is my last chance. If I fail to seize it, then everything will end. I..."
He shook his head, pushing aside the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind. It didn't matter anymore. The past was the past. What mattered now was the present—the future.
Failure? No. Ehrhardt couldn't afford to even consider the consequences of failure. The only outcome he could focus on was success. Because failure would mean death, and that was the end of the line. There wouldn't be anything worse than that.
This was his destiny, something he knew all too well. He had already been forced into making his decision; there was no room for other choices.
"Master," Reibold called softly as he approached Ehrhardt's side. "It is time to begin. The blood sacrifice ritual has been fully prepared."
"Very well."
Ehrhardt turned and left the room.
Sigh
Reibold sighed deeply. His old eyes reflected both helplessness and sorrow.
Everything was prepared. But even now, Reibold knew that his master was staking everything on this desperate gamble. Continuing forward seemed almost impossible.
The blood sacrifice ritual. It was easy to speak of, but to actually complete it was no simple task.
None of this was easy. In fact, it was next to impossible.
Sigh
Reibold shook his head. He knew he couldn't stop his master. Having watched Ehrhardt grow up from a young age, Reibold understood that his master had long since made up his mind.
This was a gamble with life itself.
Failure?
There was no avoiding it if it came to that.
As the most loyal butler, Reibold had no choice but to follow his master, wherever that path led. Death? He had no fear of that.
But still, he couldn't bear to see his master die.
All of Reibold's emotions came together in one heavy sigh. He had done everything he could to prepare for this moment, but beyond that? There was nothing left for him to do.
Hopelessness was the only word to describe it.
Meanwhile, Ehrhardt's resolve grew stronger as he descended the stairs. His blood-red eyes burned with determination. He knew this was his one and only chance. There was no room for any other choice.
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