The castle had fallen into a wild mess of noise and confusion. Luther moved through the halls with long strides as the elders, council members, and senior guards followed him, all of them shouting over one another as they rushed toward the outer gates.

The moment they reached the courtyard, the shouting died.

Dozens of bodies lay scattered across the stone floor—guards, soldiers, even a few elite bloodborn with rank marks carved into their armor. Some were slumped against pillars, others sprawled across the ground with weapons still in hand.

Luther stared at the sight with a look that was equal parts surprise and disgust. He wasn't the only one. The elders gasped and stuttered, trying to make sense of what they were looking at.

"How… how is this possible?"

"A human did this?!"

"This is humiliation! Absolute humiliation!"

"It's not even the red moon anymore, how the hell did so many vampires fall to a single intruder?!"

And then came the predictable stupidity.

"This is all because of him!" one elder snapped, pointing at Luther as if he'd lost his mind. "He allowed a human inside once, so now they think they can walk in whenever they want!"

"Yes! And Eleanor's reckless behavior is rubbing salt in the wound! She brought shame to the family, and now humans are crawling into the castle!"

"This is his fault! We need to punish her!"

Their accusations grew bolder with each breath, like they suddenly remembered they had voices and forgot they had spines.

Luther didn't yell. He didn't even raise his hand. He just turned his head toward them, and the look in his eyes quieted the entire courtyard faster than a war horn.

"When did all of you grow so eager to bark?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "You speak about honor, but none of you were strong enough to sense an intruder. None of you moved when your own guards fell. And none of you have done a damn thing in decades except sit in your chambers polishing titles you never earned."

A few elders lowered their heads. The others pressed their lips tightly, not daring to respond.

"You mention disgrace," Luther continued. "Look around you. The disgrace is lying at your feet, covered in armor you aren't worthy to touch. You talk about Eleanor. You talk about humans. But the shame is that a single man—whoever he is—walked through your defenses as if he were taking a morning stroll. And the great elders of the Stein bloodline were too blind to notice."

No one had the courage to breathe.

Luther finally turned toward the Crimson Sentinel—the leader of internal defense.

"Find the intruder," Luther ordered. "Bring him to me. He came for Xavier, so we don't kill him. He will answer for this in ways he won't soon forget."

The commander bowed and ran off with the remaining active guards.

"Take the bodies of the fallen inside, clean their wounds, and inform their families. We will hold a funeral once this is all over," Luther ordered.

Once again, there was chaos inside the castle, just like how it was when Xavier first invaded. Maybe it was a bigger chaos this time.

Luther was about to go on the hunt on his own until suddenly a high-ranking guard rushed in, panting.

"My lord—none of them are dead! They're just unconscious. Not even injured."

That changed the air instantly. The elders exchanged glances, alarmed and confused.

"How does a human even do that…?"

"He didn't kill anyone? He just… knocked out dozens of vampires?"

"That's even more terrifying!"

"Take the bodies inside and check what made them unconscious and call in the healers," Luther commanded.

Luther didn't waste time. He vanished from the courtyard, broken echoes of a presence that grew heavier and more intriguing the deeper he moved into the castle.

Everywhere he went, more bodies lay unconscious. Some slumped against walls, some folded on the ground like they had simply sat and fallen asleep mid-guard duty. Not a drop of blood. Not a torn uniform. No signs of struggle.

Just defeated.

Peacefully.

This wasn't violence. It was precision.

But what bothered Luther wasn't the trail of bodies.

It was the direction.

The intruder was moving deeper and deeper into the areas that only a handful of vampires knew existed. Hidden corridors. Old bridges connecting forgotten wings of the castle. Sections even some council members didn't have clearance for.

And the intruder walked through them as if he'd drawn the map himself.

Luther's expression hardened.

"How?" he muttered under his breath. "How does a human know this path?"

He turned another corner and finally reached the sealed corridor leading to the Isolation Chamber—one of the most restricted areas in the entire castle.

And standing at the entrance, dressed in white from head to toe, was a man with white hair and a white beard, back turned, hands loosely behind him, staring at the sealed door as if he were admiring an art piece.

Luther stepped onto the bridge and addressed him.

"That door will never open for you," he said, voice calm. "And even if you manage to get past it somehow—which you won't, the pressure inside will kill you long before you reach the next hall."

The stranger didn't shift. Didn't respond. Didn't even tilt his head.

But standing behind him, Luther felt something strange. Something heavy and old, like the echo of a forgotten era. Something that didn't belong to any human.

Luther narrowed his eyes.

This wasn't just some intruder.

This wasn't some thug breaking in for revenge.

This presence wasn't unfamiliar.

It wasn't new.

It was something Luther's instincts recognized from the bloodline's ancient records—

and it terrified even him.

The man finally spoke, not turning around.

"…I did not come to fight."

His voice was calm. Too calm.

Luther stepped closer. "I will tell you in human terms so you will understand better. Invading someone's private property is illegal. Your intention doesn't matter."

"But my actions do." He finally turned around. "I am here to see my son. He needs me."

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