Chapter 21

The tradition of blood duels dated back to the times of the Thirteen Acolytes and the founding of the Kin of C'thadra. It was the cult's most sacred rite, for which defiling the tenants was punishable by the full wrath of the Kin. Sabinth, Chromharl, and those on the Red List alike could hunt down and slaughter the perpetrator by any means available to them.

Blood duels were sacred because they were necessary, especially in modern times where every unblessed human with a phone had access to a camera. They couldn't afford to indulge in the more public displays of power and violence they used to revel in. Not if they wanted to maintain their vice-like grip over the souls of humanity.

The rules of a blood duel were simple. Once a challenge was made, no interference, no witnesses, and no foul play. Though firearms were not forbidden, they were rarely used, as the majority of older Blood Sorcerers did not even know how to operate a gun. Poisons were likewise ineffective as most cultists were immune to toxins and disease. They could use whatever spells and disciplines they had at their disposal, provided they did so quietly. It was a system that kept everyone honest, made not out of any sense of moral obligation or desire to uphold sacred honor but as a necessity in modern times.

Blood duels meant not having to hire Agents to do your dirty work for you, which was costly and oftentimes messy as well. They allowed cultists to settle petty grievances without things escalating into full-blown proxy wars. And in Caleb's case, they gave wanted fugitives on the Red List a fighting chance, offering an incentive for them not to immediately run away and force the cult to spend more resources hunting them down.

Of course, the biggest reason Blood Sorcerers loved their duels was because it meant not having to share in the potent vitae they would drain from the loser with anyone else.

Undoubtedly, that was what enticed Caleb's date for the evening the most. And to her credit, it was clear why Sana was so confident she would win. Under normal circumstances, this could hardly be considered a fair fight. In a battle between cultists, one's generation spoke volumes. In a culture where gaining power meant committing heinous murder, cultists had to be extremely selective and careful in how they drained the unblessed. Those who had lived longer naturally had more chances to drain precious vitae. Meaning the older you were, the more powerful your blood.

In a Blood Sorcerers duel, that was everything. Personal talent and skill at spellcraft were secondary to raw hematic potency. The most talented Neophyte Blood Sorcerer on the planet wouldn't stand a chance against the least talented Elder, or even Adept, for that matter. The potency of their blood was inexorable. It was a top-heavy class system that ensured the older generations remained in control while the young were expected to serve under them.

Indeed, under normal circumstances, this duel would hardly be considered fair. But under the current ones? Well...it still really wasn't fair if Caleb was being completely honest with himself.

Upon arriving at the estate Sana was using as her base of operations, Caleb was greeted at the door by a polite, respectful, and extremely friendly older Japanese couple. He'd been hoping for jerks if he was honest. Or at the very least strictness. Something his rage could tangibly grasp on to that might make their inevitable deaths more appealing.

Unfortunately, this was the problem with being a guest in a Japanese home. They were too damn polite! Normally back home, one of his hosts would have said something moronic by now, spouted some religious or political opinion which clashed with his own ideologies enough to make their use as glorified blood bags in a duel justified. But this lot was giving him nothing. They were just a perfectly polite, perfectly sweet, well-meaning older Japanese couple who served him a respectable dinner and treated him like an honorable guest in their home.

It frustrated him to no end not being able to find one single thing to hate about Sana's foster family. As it was, what would soon transpire as they waited for the sun to completely set would not sour his appetite. But it would inevitably leave a slightly bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Killing the rude and indecent was a public service in his mind. But killing two well-meaning innocent bystanders who were completely clueless about the monster that had tricked its way into their home? That was a waste of good stock. He'd make sure this woman paid dearly for her transgressions.

After a lovely dinner, Caleb spent some time in the living room with Sana getting to know her foster family. He was determined to find some small thing to hate about them before the sun completely set.

"So, my wife was originally a nurse working with the elderly while I myself am a retired philanthropist. My business provided financial support to impoverished families as well as access to healthy food."

Fuck...

"We may both be retired, but we still like to volunteer at the soup kitchen once a week.

Fuck!

"My wife and I never had children of our own, but we love supporting young minds such as our dear Sana-chan as they grow into fine young adults. We were honored when she asked if she could bring her boyfriend over."

Fuuuuuuck!

"You've been such lovely company. I may not be her real mother, but you've at least won my endorsement for whatever that may be worth to you."

Okay, that was officially the last straw. These people were just too damn nice, and it was pissing him off! Desperate times called for desperate measures. If he couldn't find any reason to hate them. He'd give them a reason to hate him.

It killed Caleb to do this, but he was going to have to break his perfect streak and commit a massive social taboo for the sake of his pallet.

"So, what are your thoughts on the Prime Minister's most recent visit to Yasukuni Shrine?" he asked abruptly.

The two looked at each other before lowering their heads solemnly.

"It is unfortunate how much death this country has seen in times past. But I do not believe that gives us any right to be ignorant of the suffering of others as well."

"My husband and I have always fully believed in honoring the past, both good and evil. It is only by doing so that we might learn from the mistakes that were committed as well as the virtues that were taught."

Dammit! Not even a sour look! Where the hell did she find these two?! A freaking convention for the giftedly wholesome?!

Sana, who had been quietly sipping a cup of tea as they chatted, looked over at the nearby window. A knowing grin crept over her lips as the last rays of sunlight fell.

"It's getting late..."

Caleb's razor-sharp focus returned.

"Oh my, it most certainly is."

"Shall we show you back to the car, Barlow-k..."

His words stopped dead in his throat as a red sigil of Antediluvian power appeared on his forehead alongside his wife. They both stood up straight, eyes forward, a lifeless, brainwashed expression on both of their faces.

"Apologies if my choice of vessel upsets your delicate sensibilities," she commented with a derisive sneer while standing up off the couch. "I sometimes forget you younger whelps lack the stomach for this sort of life."

He sighed before chuckling sardonically and standing to his feet as well. "Not at all. I rather enjoyed their company, brief as it was. If anything, their deaths shall simply fuel my desires to completely crush you all the more."

"You're different from other Red Listers, and I'll give you that. Where exactly do you draw such courage from? You seem to have no fear of death."

Caleb shrugged. "I wouldn't necessarily say it's courage when you know you're gonna win. But it's true I don't hold any real fear of death. I find there's a lot less pressure that way."

"Spoken like a true product of your generation," she retorted. "Very well then. Pick your vessel, and I don't care which. They're both equally healthy."

At that, he grinned at her. "I won't be needing a vessel. Take both of them."

She wasn't amused, not even remotely. "Okay, I get you've got guts, kid. But now is not the time to play games with me."

He shrugged. "There's no games here. If I needed a vessel, I'd have brought my own. I'll be using my own blood and vitae for this duel."

Sana scowled at him angrily. "What is it you're trying to prove here? How quickly you can get yourself killed? I'm offering you a fair and honest duel. And you would insult me by..."

"The only insult here..." Caleb cut her off abruptly, anger at last steeping into his voice as his eyes turned cold. "...is the one you've thrust upon me with your refusal to accept that I don't want or need your help. I've had about enough of your disingenuous hospitality."

If looks could kill...

"Stop with the flirting. Stop with the backhanded compliments. And stop wasting my freaking time!" His eyes took on that all too familiar look of bloodlust as the monster within gave way. "Either make your first move, or I will. It makes no difference to me. Either way, you won't live long enough to see the sunrise."

A smile that bore her intent's sheer malevolence spread across Sana's lips.

"I'm about to make you regret the day you were born."

Her foster parents kneeled at Sana's feet as she crossed her wrists in front of her chest and bit down on her thumbs, drawing blood. Two ornate daggers appeared in either hand, which she used to slice open their carotid arteries in a single swift motion. Vitae flowed from their open necks like a crimson stream, swirling around her person. The two vessels floated into the air as she brought the full brunt of her terrible power to bear.

"Your death will not be quick," she assured venomously as vitae swirled along her hands, taking the form of red electrical discharge. "I won't grant you that clemency. Not after running your mouth in such a manner."

Caleb smirked before biting down on the side of his palm.

"I sincerely hope it was worth it. Because once I'm through with you, you won't just be unafraid of death; you'll be begging for it!"

Red lightning flashed from the tips of her fingers, hitting him dead on and drowning out everything in a flash of light. Yet, upon closer inspection, Sana could see her opponent was still standing, his hand outstretched, channeling vitae into a barrier of glowing red light.

"What?!" She reeled back in disbelief before growling in frustration and drawing in more vitae from her vessels. "Alright then..."

Sana launched a volley of energy streams at him next, attacking from the sides this time. Caleb countered by clapping his hands together and then throwing them out to either side, enveloping his entire body in that same red glowing shield. The streams detonated on impact, blasting furniture and other surrounding objects into mulch.

As the dust settled, however, Caleb was still clearly standing.

"How are you doing this?!" she railed.

His smirk widened into a devious grin. She shouted in anger before drawing deeply from her vessels yet again, shriveling them into pale husks in the process. Seven crimson shards formed above her head, each with needlepoint tips like that of an icicle, which she proceeded to launch at him one at a time, intent on piercing that stubborn barrier of his. Yet again, each shard deflected harmlessly off the energy field surrounding him, shattering on impact before splashing as liquid crimson all around the target.

"B...but that's not possible..." She slowly backed away, visibly shaken by this turn of events. "You're just a Neophyte. You can't possibly possess the hematic potency to counter my spells!"

"You were so quick to tell me your Chapter. Yet you never bothered to try and figure out mine."

She growled at him in seething rage.

"Or for that matter..." he continued in a calm, unbothered tone, that sadistic grin on his face widening further. "...what my real name is."

A horrid realization came over her at that moment, and she paled considerably.

"My name is Abram Markarov. Twentieth son of the thirty-eighth Archon of the great Austrat Chapter...and its last surviving member."

Her mouth slowly dropped open in stunned, horror-stricken silence. Sana had just been played a fool. This kid wasn't just on the Red List; he topped it! Abram Markarov was the cult's single greatest mortal enemy!

Both his arms moved simultaneously back in front of him. A cold, crimson-colored glow began to form within his palms. For just the briefest moment, she could feel it.

The ungodly power of one of the Thirteen Acolytes. Blood Magic in its purest concentration.

"Wait!" she cried desperately.

All sight and sound stopped dead around her as the glowing power erupted from his hands. Her vessels exploded in a spectacular display of crimson gore while she herself was knocked flat to the ground, her body and mind incapable of processing the true nature of his attack.

It was over.