The sound of hammers, the crack of stone, and the occasional vampire bickering echoed across the rising settlement. What once was a barren basin below the cliffs now bristled with wooden scaffolds and crude stone walls. Lucas stood at the center, shirtless, arms crossed, surveying the scene like a disgruntled architect with fangs.
"That's crooked," he muttered, pointing at a poorly stacked tower.
The vampire mason scratched his head. "We don't have a spirit level, my lord."
Lucas frowned. "Use your undead eyes. I don't need my city looking like a drunken bat built it."
Mira stood nearby, balancing blueprints that fluttered in the breeze. "At this rate, we'll have our first bloodbank, bathhouse, and brothel by next week."
"Why in that order?"
"Motivation. Bloodbath, bath, then... bathtime," she quipped with a smirk.
Lucas chuckled despite himself. But his amusement faded as the system pinged.
> [System Alert: Crypt Seepage Escalating]
Mental Interference: +6%
Clan Morale: -9%
Possession Risk: Expanding
Ritual Seal Integrity: 28% — CRITICAL
Beneath their feet, something stirred.
They could all feel it now. The ground breathed, subtly pulsing like veins under stone. Lucas placed his palm on the earth, and a whisper brushed against his mind.
A name.
Not a word. A feeling that curled behind his eyes like smoke.
"Something is coming," he said aloud.
Mira's joking tone faded. "From the sealed crypt?"
Lucas nodded. "The old blood doesn't want to stay buried. We need to finish the altar before the breach widens."
Construction accelerated.
Lucas used his [City Planning Lv.3] skill to assign tasks with surgical precision. Vampires worked faster than humans, but they still needed direction—and breaks, apparently. One worker fainted mid-haul, moaning about "nightmares with teeth and opera music."
To boost morale, Lucas hosted a feast with the last reserves of bloodwine. Drunk vampires sang ancient songs off-key while Mira tried (and failed) to stop a pair of newly turned twins from using the scaffolding as a stage.
"I feel like I'm herding bloodthirsty toddlers," Mira groaned.
"You are," Lucas replied, taking a gulp of crimson wine. "But they're my toddlers."
That night, Lucas meditated alone in the incomplete altar chamber. Its stone walls were etched with glyphs, half-lit by candles. He focused, reaching into the whispers.
And they whispered back.
A flood of memories—not his own—poured into him.
An ancient battle. A god-thing buried in blood. A crown made of spines.
He awoke gasping, blood dripping from his nose. Something had pushed into him.
> [System Notice: Ancestral Echo Acquired]
Passive Skill Gained: Bloodthrone Memory (Lv.1)
– Allows glimpses of ancient vampire knowledge, at the risk of mental instability.
Morning came with no sun—only storm clouds.
As Lucas stepped outside, a messenger sprinted toward him, eyes wide.
"My Lord! Three of our scouts vanished past the ridge. And the stone… the stone's bleeding."
Lucas looked past the horizon. A single pillar stood where there hadn't been one yesterday—black and slick with something red.
He turned to Mira. "Time to expand patrols. And prep the ritual... early."
"But the altar isn't finished."
"Then we finish it tonight."
The ground beneath the city rumbled once more.
Something was watching.
Something old.
And it was hungry.