Night was as dark as ink, shrouding Evernight City, the capital of the Blood Tribe.
This region lived up to the city’s name; it seemed to be trapped in an eternal night.
Even when the sun occasionally rose, it appeared as though it were veiled by a layer of black mist, offering little light.
It never hindered the lives of the Blood Tribe within the city.
Carola stood casually before the massive archway at the entrance of Evernight City.
Her delicate and petite face looked increasingly cold under the moonlight.
She wore a long red dress, the hem swaying gently with the night wind like coagulated blood.
On her feet were a pair of matching red high heels, with blood-red rubies encrusted from the arch to the ankle, the tanned leather hugging the white, jade-like, and nearly translucent skin of her feet.
Her long white hair was left unstyled, cascading naturally to her waist.
Her blood-red pupils reflected the city filled with her kin.
Carola’s attire was not particularly conspicuous compared to the outfits of the surrounding Blood Tribe members.
Due to their consumption of blood, many preferred wearing red clothing the color of gore.
‘It really hasn’t changed at all.’
Carola sneered inwardly.
She hadn’t been to this capital in many years, yet it remained exactly as she remembered.
After all this time, there wasn’t a single change.
It was just like the current state of the Blood Tribe.
“Lady Blood Princess, welcome back!”
Two Blood Tribe guards clad in black armor spotted Carola and bowed respectfully.
Upon hearing the guards’ shout, the surrounding Blood Tribe members looked at Carola in surprise.
It was actually the Blood Princess!
For a moment, the surroundings fell into a dead silence.
“Mhm,” Carola responded expressionlessly.
She then stepped into the city, the sound of her high heels clicking against the stone pavement echoing through the street.
She sensed at least seven different auras monitoring her from various positions.
Along the streets of Evernight City, tall buildings cast heavy shadows.
As Carola walked, the Blood Tribe members in her path stepped aside one after another.
Naturally, Carola could feel the complex emotions mixed within the gazes of the surrounding Blood Tribe members — awe, jealousy, and fear.
The bearer of the ‘Blood Princess’ title, a Duke of the Brujah Clan, an Awakener of the Original Blood, and the ‘Exile’ who proactively guarded the Scarlet Dungeon…
She had far too many labels within the Blood Tribe.
“Lady Carola, the Ventrue Clan sent me here to wait for you.”
A handsome young Blood Tribe member in a bright red formal suit appeared at the street corner and bowed respectfully.
His hair was meticulously combed back, and his face was pale and delicate — typical characteristics of the Toreador Clan.
This clan was known for its obsession with beauty and art, as well as its pursuit of elegant hedonism.
It was Lucian Toreador, who had previously visited the Scarlet Dungeon.
“I remember you. You’re that kid from the Toreador Clan who visited my place a while ago. Hmph — since when did the Ventrue Clan care so much about my whereabouts?”
Carola stopped, her blood-red eyes sweeping over him.
“You’re joking,” Lucian continued to maintain a proper smile.
“The Blood Princess has returned to Evernight City; how could we not receive you with grand ceremony? A welcoming banquet has already been prepared for you at the Blood Moon Hall.”
“A banquet? Heh…”
Carola let out a soft laugh, though there was no warmth in it.
“I didn’t come here for a party. Those fools who tampered with the blood I sent — where are they?”
The air suddenly froze.
The smile on Lucian’s face stiffened for a split second, but he quickly returned to normal.
“Lady Carola, this matter requires a long-term plan. As you know, the current relations between the thirteen clans are… somewhat delicate. Acting rashly might —”
“Are you teaching me how to do things?”
Carola interrupted Lucian, taking a step forward.
Even that single small step made Lucian involuntarily retreat half a pace.
“To break the balance the Ventrue Clan painstakingly maintains? Or are you saying your clan had a hand in this behind the scenes?”
“Absolutely not!” Lucian hurriedly denied, cold sweat beads forming on his forehead.
“Our Toreador Clan has always respected the other clans, especially the Brujah Clan. It’s just that… direct accusations require evidence.”
Carola stared at Lucian for several seconds.
Her gaze seemed capable of seeing through his very soul.
Finally, she looked away, gazing toward the towering Blood Moon Tower in the center of Evernight City.
That was the seat of the Blood Tribe’s power.
“Lead the way,” Carola said flatly.
“I want to see what kind of explanation those old fogies will give me.”
“Of course. This way, please!”
Lucian eagerly led the way for Carola.
—
“Evernight City, Blood Moon Hall.”
The banquet was in full swing.
Crystal chandeliers refracted a dark red light, and the long tables were covered with exquisite vessels filled with various ‘specialty drinks’.
“Blood.”
To the Blood Tribe, blood was the finest wine.
Carola stood alone in the shadows at the edge of the hall, holding a glass of crimson liquid but not drinking it.
Her long white hair shimmered under the lights, and her blood-red eyes coldly scanned every figure in the room.
Almost all the representatives of the thirteen clans were present.
Edwin Ventrue, the Clan Leader of the Ventrue Clan, sat in the main seat.
He looked old, but his gaze was sharp.
Beside him was the representative of the Tremere Clan, a clan known for mastering Blood Magic; their members always carried the reserved air of scholars.
Carola suspected that Adrian’s escape might have involved the Tremere Clan.
After all, Phyllis’s blood was likely handed over to those scholars for research.
Next to them was the seat for the Malkavian Clan — it was empty.
Carola’s gaze lingered on the empty seat for a moment.
The Malkavian Clan was the most unstable and insane branch of the Blood Tribe.
Its members often fell into mental derangement because of their mastery over prophecy.
It was normal for them to be absent from the banquet.
“Carola, my dear niece.”
A gentle voice sounded beside her.
Carola turned and saw the current Clan Leader of the Brujah Clan — her uncle, Gregory Brujah.
He had white hair similar to hers, but his body was bulging with muscles, making him look exceptionally powerful.
“Uncle.”
Carola nodded slightly.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” Gregory whispered, though he maintained a banquet-appropriate smile on his face.
“Evernight City is a powder keg right now. The Malkavian Clan has gone completely mad. They somehow obtained a prophecy saying that the blood you sent could cure their… ‘madness’.”
Carola’s gaze sharpened.
“So they were the ones conducting tests on the blood I sent?”
“It wasn’t just them,” Gregory lowered his voice, his muscular arm resting casually on Carola’s shoulder, effectively forming a barrier against eavesdroppers.
“The Tremere Clan also participated in the research. They believe there’s a certain miraculous substance in that blood. While the Ventrue Clan maintains order on the surface, in reality, they also…”
“Phyllis is mine. That is all.”
Carola looked up, a paranoid light flashing in her eyes.
“It is precisely because she is yours that it’s even more dangerous,” Gregory sighed.
“Having such miraculous blood in your hands makes you a target for the other clans. If you brought it out for everyone to use together, I, your uncle, could guarantee that I would help you negotiate with the Ventrue Clan for the largest share of the benefits. Otherwise…”
“They will die!” Carola calmly interrupted Gregory.
“Anyone who tries to take Phyllis will die.”
“Is it worth doing this for a single blood slave?”
Gregory asked, somewhat puzzled.
“She is not my blood slave. She is my lover!”
A touch of madness appeared in Carola’s eyes.