Chapter 541 – The Trail Left in Shadows
The morning after the bar incident, the Guild returned to base. While the rescued girl was safely home, the question of how she had been held captive for seven days gnawed at everyone.
In the mission room, the team reviewed the evidence left behind: maps of Montana, drone footage, and the testimonies of the Crimson Court enforcers who had collected the three captured outlaws.
"This wasn't random," said the commander. "Rogue vamps don't grab a kid and hold her that long without someone noticing. There's a network behind this. If there are more of these safe houses, more kids could already be missing."
They broke into smaller teams, volunteers stepping forward for a tracking mission.
It was then that Mikhail Orlov, a broad-shouldered retired Spetsnaz with a shaved head and an expression carved from stone, spoke up in his thick Russian accent.
"I will come," he said, pausing for a long moment. "And… there is something I have not told you before."
The room went quiet.
"I have affinity," he said slowly, as if choosing each word carefully. "Light affinity. I can use magic of light more easily. I did not speak of it before because… in early days, my control was bad. Could have been dangerous in mission. But now…"
To everyone's surprise, he stood in the middle of the room, closed his eyes, and focused. A faint shimmer passed over him, like sunlight on water—and then his entire form vanished. Only the faintest ripple in the air betrayed his presence.
"Holy—" one of the Delta operators muttered.
"I am still here," Mikhail's deep voice rumbled from the empty space. "With practice, I can hold this for more than an hour. It will be useful for scouting."
He reappeared, looking almost embarrassed by the stunned silence.
The commander grinned. "You've been holding out on us, Mikhail."
"I did not want to use unstable magic before. Now I am ready. This ability will make it easier to follow tracks without being seen."
A GIGN veteran leaned over. "Invisibility. I like it. Very… assassin chic."
"Also," Mikhail added, "I can make flash of light. Like grenade. Very bright. But… still practicing. Sometimes it is too bright."
That drew laughter around the room.
With Mikhail's newly revealed ability, the team set out for the small towns and highways surrounding Winter Hollow. For three days they investigated: abandoned barns, back roads, and derelict houses. Mikhail moved ahead of the others, a ghost in sunlight, leaving only faint footprints in the frost.
On the third day, his voice came through their earpieces:
"Tracks," he whispered. "I see signs of more than three vampires. These roads, they have been used for smuggling. The trail leads into the old freight tunnels. Big place. Many paths. We must be careful."
Inside those tunnels they found proof: bloodstains on stone, chains bolted to walls, and ledgers marked with locations.
It wasn't just three rogue vampires. It was a network.
The chapter ends with the team standing at the mouth of the tunnels, preparing to follow the trail deeper, while Mikhail fades out of sight again, his voice calm:
"They think they are in shadows. But light… will find them."
The mouth of the freight tunnel yawned like a black scar in the side of the mountain, framed by rusting metal and wild shrubs. Cold air poured from it, carrying the faint scent of blood and mold. The Guild team moved in a staggered formation, rifles at low ready, mana flowing just enough to sharpen their senses.
Mikhail, already shimmering into nothingness, vanished completely as he stepped ahead of the group. His voice came softly over comms, calm and deep.
"I go first. I will see what waits. Stay close, but not too close. If I flash, close eyes."
Inside, the tunnel was a maze. Old rail tracks, rotten wooden beams, and broken freight carts lay scattered like the skeleton of some dead giant. The team kept their lights low, relying on night vision as Mikhail scouted far ahead.
Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the faint crunch of boots on gravel.
"I see two guards," his voice murmured. "Outlaws. Vampires. Relaxed. Not aware."
The team froze.
"Take them?" asked a Delta operator.
"No," Mikhail said. "Wait."
On the feed from his helmet camera, they could see what the guards could not. A faint shimmer slid up behind them, silent as air. Suddenly, a flash of light—sharp and blinding—exploded in their faces.
The two vampires clutched their eyes, stumbling, hissing. Before they could recover, Mikhail appeared behind them like a ghost, a gloved hand chopping one across the neck while his other arm locked around the second and pulled him into a chokehold.
"Clear," he whispered.
The rest of the team advanced, dragging the unconscious guards into a side room without a sound.
Deeper they went. The deeper parts of the tunnels opened into vast chambers—old freight depots long abandoned. And there, they saw it: makeshift cells welded from steel bars, dozens of them. Empty, now.
"This is where they kept her," one SAS veteran muttered, voice tight. "And probably more."
But there was no time to linger. A faint noise—footsteps—echoed from the far end.
Mikhail's voice came again.
"Many. At least twelve. Vampires and humans, all outlaws. I will distract."
Before anyone could respond, his form vanished into the dark.
What followed could only be described as controlled chaos.
The Guild heard startled shouts as light began to dance erratically through the chamber—brief flashes like camera bulbs going off, bouncing off the walls, forcing the vampires to cover their eyes. And in that confusion, one after another, they started dropping—tackled from behind by an invisible force that slammed them into the ground or pulled their legs out from under them.
The rest of the Guild moved in like wolves, finishing the takedowns with ruthless efficiency.
It was over in less than two minutes.
Twelve bodies lay bound on the ground, eyes still watering from the unexpected brightness.
The commander looked around, impressed. "Mikhail," he said through the comms, "remind me why you didn't tell us about this sooner?"
Mikhail reappeared slowly, the shimmer fading as he stood among the prisoners. He shrugged, expression deadpan.
"Because before, I was… how you say… 'terrible at it.' Would have blinded all of you instead."
A few of them laughed despite the tension.
But at the back of the chamber, behind a sealed metal door, they found something more important than prisoners: a map. A network of routes, dots marking locations across several states.
This wasn't just a single den. It was a smuggling web.
And now they had a way to take it apart.
Chapter 542 – Operation Broken Vein
By dawn, the captured outlaws and the map taken from the underground chamber were on a table in the Guild's Nevada headquarters. Every senior member crowded around the massive steel table, their faces lit by the dim glow of the projection map that showed dozens of red dots scattered across the country.
"These dots," the commander said, tapping the display with a gloved finger, "are not just hideouts. They're safe houses, transport routes, holding pens. This is a smuggling network that's been operating for years. These three rogue vampires we caught? Just the tip."
The evidence was handed immediately to the federal liaison. Within an hour, Washington had a copy. Even before lunch, the Guild had a direct video call with the government.
"We'll take this apart," the commander said during the briefing. "But we need approval to move freely, and we need silence. No bureaucracy slowing us down."
The official didn't hesitate. "Do it. We'll send quiet alerts to local authorities so you can move without interference. Clean it out."
By that afternoon, Operation Broken Vein had begun.
Phase One – Mobilization
Teams were formed on the spot. Retired SEALs took the routes leading through Louisiana swamps. Delta Force and SAS were assigned to the Appalachian corridor. The KSK and GIGN teams went north to frozen rail towns in Minnesota and Michigan. And for the deepest routes hidden in rural plains, the commander hand-picked Mikhail Orlov and his light-based reconnaissance skills.
Helicopters lifted off from Nevada in staggered waves, each carrying a handful of veterans armed with rifles, suppressed weapons, blades, and spells tuned for quick takedowns.
Phase Two – Simultaneous Strikes
By evening, the first targets were hit.
In Louisiana, the SEALs cut through a fog-thick swamp like crocodiles, pulling outlaw demons from shacks in the bayou. Every strike was fast, silent. The captured creatures were left tied for the Demon Hunter Bureau to collect.
In Kentucky, a Delta team kicked down the doors of an old distillery converted into a blood-storage hub for rogue vampires. The fight lasted three minutes. By the time it was over, every outlaw inside was unconscious, their stash destroyed.
Phase Three – Mikhail's Ghost Hunt
In North Dakota, Mikhail's team descended into a rail tunnel much like the one they'd found before. His invisibility let him move deep into the network unseen. His voice guided the others over comms.
"Two guards by the generator. Turned away. Easy," he whispered.
Flashes of light, muffled gunfire, and another safe house fell without an alarm ever being raised.
At one point, he simply appeared behind a vampire with a single word: "Boo."
The startled scream echoed for half a second before a swift strike dropped the creature like a sack of bricks. Even over the comms, the team was laughing.
Phase Four – Cleanup
In less than forty-eight hours, more than two dozen smuggling sites were cleared across seven states. Hostages—humans and mana-born alike—were freed and handed to medical teams. Evidence collected at every site pointed to the same conclusion: the network was collapsing from the inside out.
And at every site, the veterans made the same quiet habit: leaving a painted falcon sigil on the wall. A warning.
Phase Five – Reporting
At the Nevada base, the final mission report was handed back to the government: "Network neutralized. Outlaw presence reduced by 80%. High-value prisoners handed over."
The officials who read it could only stare at the numbers.
"You cleared seven states in two days," one said on the secure line.
"We didn't," the commander replied. "The map told us where to look. We just removed the shadows."
As the Guild members sat down that night for a late meal, Mikhail raised his glass of Aten whiskey and said simply, "Good hunt."
For them, it was just another mission, but for dozens of families across the country, it was the end of a nightmare.
Two days after Operation Broken Vein ended, the Guild's Nevada base received unexpected visitors.
As the sun sank low over the desert, a convoy of sleek black cars rolled across the tarmac, their windows opaque. When the engines stopped, a delegation stepped out—elegant figures in long coats, their golden eyes glimmering faintly in the dim light.
It was the Crimson Court.
The veterans stood silently as the delegation approached, led by a tall, pale man with sharp features. He carried no weapon, but his presence alone was enough to make even hardened soldiers take notice.
"We have come," he said, "on behalf of the Vampire Queen."
In the briefing room, the vampires bowed their heads slightly, an act of respect rarely seen.
"The Court thanks you," the spokesman began, "for the destruction of this smuggling network. Those you captured, those you eliminated—every one of them was an outlaw. They were ours, once. No longer."
He looked around the room at the gathered veterans.
"You must understand why they are hunted."
One of the Delta Force veterans crossed his arms. "We figured they were dangerous. Didn't know why."
The spokesman nodded. "They are dangerous because they are… old. Not in years, but in ways. Centuries ago, hunting humans was how our kind survived. But the world changed. The Queen changed us. We adapted. We built banks of blood. We made agreements. We drink only what we need—one glass a week. And we live as part of the world now, not as predators outside it."
His tone hardened.
"But there are those who cannot abandon the old ways. They are addicted to blood, to the hunt. To them, one glass a week is starvation. They drink it like water. The taste of blood makes them thirst for more. And they prefer the most forbidden kind—virgins, especially the young."
The room went cold at those words.
The commander leaned forward. "That girl in the bar…"
The spokesman nodded grimly. "She was to be taken as tribute. This is why we banish them, why we hunt them ourselves. Those who refuse to adapt are no better than wild beasts. Most of their leaders are already gone. The Queen herself has slain them, leaving only minnows hiding in the cracks."
"And these ones you've been catching," another veteran said, "they were the leftovers."
"Yes," the spokesman said. "The desperate and the feral. They hide in shadows, away from our reach. But they are still dangerous."
He glanced around the room, his voice lowering. "You must also know that legal vampires do not rely on blood as before. We can eat normal human food. In fact, ever since Aten's golden rice came into the world, we eat more food than we did for centuries. It has made us less dependent. But for the outlaws, that same change has been poison—they cannot adapt. The bloodlust drives them mad."
The spokesman stood and bowed his head once more.
"The Crimson Court will remember what you have done here. And from this day, know this: should your Guild ever need information about outlaws, you need only ask. We will share what we know."
The delegation left as silently as they had arrived, their black cars vanishing into the desert night.
For a while, the veterans just sat in the empty room, staring at the map of cleared routes. Finally, one of them let out a slow breath.
"Good to know," said the commander. "But it also means there's still a lot of work left."
Mikhail gave a small, humorless smile. "Then we keep hunting. Until there is nothing left to hide."
As the vampires' cars disappeared into the desert night, the Guild members stayed in the briefing room, still processing everything they had just learned. Someone finally broke the silence.
"So," a KSK veteran said, leaning back in his chair, "I've got to ask. All those movies. All those stories. Werewolves and vampires hate each other, right? Always fighting?"
The vampires who had stayed behind to wrap up the formalities chuckled quietly. One of them—a woman in an elegant gray coat—turned her golden eyes toward him.
"That is a human myth," she said. "It makes good stories, but no, there is no blood feud. Our worlds rarely even touch."
Another Guild member raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
The vampire nodded. "We do not live the same kind of lives. Werewolves live in the forests, in small tribes, following their packs and the old ways. They care little for cities, politics, or the world of men. They do not hunt for influence; they hunt for food. And they are content with that."
"And you?" asked a former SEAL, curious now.
"Vampires," she said, "are the opposite. We build companies. We make alliances. We live among humanity and invest in its progress. We have… connections. A love for civilization, for modern things."
She gestured with a gloved hand. "One world is trees and rivers. The other is skyscrapers and contracts. It is difficult for such different worlds to ever collide."
"So you don't have some kind of war going on out there?" one of the SAS veterans pressed, almost disappointed.
The vampire smiled faintly, showing just a hint of fang. "No. If anything, there is an understanding. Our priorities don't conflict. When our paths do cross, there is usually respect. The stories of open war? They are just stories."
Another vampire, older and quieter, added, "The only thing that does cause conflict is when outlaws—of either kind—disrupt the balance. Then we act. Otherwise, there is no reason to fight."
The GIGN veteran whistled low. "Guess Hollywood's been lying to us all these years."
The elegant vampire tilted her head, amused. "Your movies make us more dramatic. I suppose that makes for good entertainment."
The room fell back into a comfortable calm. The tension that had been there hours ago was gone now. The Guild had gotten answers to questions most people would never dare ask.
And for the first time, they began to realize that their world—vampires, werewolves, awakened humans—wasn't a constant war, but a complicated mix of lives that rarely touched.
The veterans chuckled at the idea of no centuries‑old feud, but one of them—an older Marine Raider—still looked thoughtful as he swirled the last of his Aten whiskey in his glass.
"So… all those movies? All those shows about werewolves versus vampires? Secret societies, wars in the streets… all fake?"
The elegant vampire woman laughed softly, the sound almost like bells.
"You should not believe everything you see in your films," she said, amused. "Human cinema loves to make us into grand, tragic characters, locked in endless battles. It's very dramatic, very… romantic."
The older male vampire beside her smirked. "In truth, most of what you see on a screen is made up. Sometimes there is a grain of truth, yes. A story that started somewhere real. But by the time it becomes a movie?" He shrugged. "Distorted. Simplified. Something a writer thought would be exciting."
The GIGN veteran leaned forward. "So no secret councils plotting in the sewers of New York?"
"There are councils," the vampire admitted, grinning. "But they meet in conference rooms, not sewer tunnels. And half of those meetings are just us arguing about taxes and distribution quotas for legal blood banks. I assure you, it is far less interesting than your movies make it seem."
Laughter broke out around the table.
"You know," one SAS veteran said, "if you all just started making your own movies, you'd destroy the horror genre forever."
The vampire tilted her head. "We prefer humans to think of us as myths. If you all saw the truth, you would be very disappointed."
"And those old stories about garlic and wooden stakes?" a former SEAL asked, raising an eyebrow.
Another vampire laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth. "Garlic? It smells terrible, yes, but it will not kill us. Stakes? If you put any sharp object through a heart, mortal or immortal, it tends to be fatal. This is not a vampire secret."
That made the entire table roar with laughter.
"Movies take the smallest details," the elegant vampire said once the laughter settled, "and stretch them. Sometimes they come close. More often, they just make things up. It makes good stories, I suppose. But don't ever confuse them with reality."
One of the Delta operators raised his glass. "Noted. Next time we see a vampire movie, we'll just assume it's a documentary written by a drunk person."
Even the vampires laughed at that.
Chapter 543 – Ask a Vampire
Not long after the Guild's joint meeting with the Crimson Court, videos and whispers about that conversation leaked online.
Clips of vampires calmly explaining that they didn't hate werewolves, that Hollywood had made everything more dramatic, spread across social platforms with the caption:
#VampiresAreNotLikeTheMovies
The curiosity of the public exploded overnight.
Soon an online community appeared, part serious discussion and part chaotic humor: "Ask a Vampire – The Real AMA."
At first, no one expected actual vampires to join. But to everyone's surprise, verified Crimson Court accounts began answering questions. With a mixture of dignity, sarcasm, and sometimes amusement, they decided to educate humanity.
The top questions that went viral:
Q:Is it true that you can't enter a house without an invitation?
A:We can enter. We just think it's polite to knock first. You all made that rule up.
Q:Do you really sleep in coffins?
A:No. Try sleeping in a wooden box for 8 hours and tell us how comfortable it is. We prefer good beds and blackout curtains.
Q:How old is the oldest vampire right now?
A:Older than your oldest tree. But none of us look a day over thirty-five. Good skin care is timeless.
Q:Are you allergic to garlic?
A:We are allergic to bad cooking. That is all.
People were fascinated, especially by how ordinary vampire daily life seemed. They learned about vampire-run companies, the rule of one glass of blood per week, and how most of their food was now the same as everyone else's.
And then came the strangest trend.
Q:If I asked really nicely, could you bite me? Could you turn me into a vampire? Please?
The Crimson Court's answer was short and final:
"No. That is a myth. We cannot turn humans into vampires. The bloodline is something you are born into. A bite will only leave you with a scar—and a headache. Forget about this idea."
The refusal only made some people want it more. Threads flooded with users begging:
"But what if you just tried?""I'm volunteering! Please, ruin my sleep schedule forever!""I'd make a good vampire. I already hate sunlight."
The vampires replied with dry patience:
"We are not recruitment officers for your fantasy novels. Go drink a smoothie and take a nap."
Despite the chaos, a strange new understanding began forming online. People started realizing that the legends they had feared for centuries were just stories. Vampires weren't monsters in the dark—they were complicated, structured, and in some ways, as mundane as any other culture.
One comment under a widely shared post summed it up perfectly:
"I wanted vampires to be terrifying gods. Instead, they're like immortal CEOs with better teeth."
The official Crimson Court account replied with a single emoji:
🦷
And the internet loved it.
As the online Q&A gained momentum, the questions started to become bolder.
Someone finally asked the one question everyone had been too nervous to type before:
Q:How strong is the Vampire Queen, really? In movies, she's always the final boss. Is that just a myth too?
The Crimson Court's verified account paused for almost five minutes before replying.
When the notification finally came in, the answer stunned the entire thread:
A:The Vampire Queen's strength is not a myth. If you need a comparison… think of the highest god in every pantheon you know. That is the closest human words can come to describing her power. She does not just rule us through fear. She protects us all because she is unstoppable.
The post exploded.
Comment after comment filled the thread:
"Wait… as in Zeus? Odin? Amaterasu? That level???""So she could actually fight a god and win?""Bro. That means if she's mad, we're all dead."
A vampire moderator calmly added a clarification:
A:Yes. Do not mistake our patience for weakness. The Queen personally executed the leaders of the outlaw clans you've heard about. The only ones left alive are those too insignificant to bother her. If you are picturing the ancient stories where a god stands at the peak of their pantheon—that is where she stands for us.
This simple admission caused a frenzy across the internet. The myth of the Vampire Queen had suddenly become reality, but not in the way people expected.
Instead of fear, the most common response was awe.
Comment:"So she's like… a god who actually answers the phone?"
Reply:"If by 'answers the phone' you mean appears in your living room and ends an army, yes."
Someone posted a meme:
A photo of a cat sitting on a throne with the caption "Vampire Queen: do not test me."
The Crimson Court's official account liked it.
But the answer also carried weight.
People realized why the Crimson Court was so disciplined, why they took the Guild's help so seriously.
If even the Queen considered these outlaws a threat to stability, the situation must have been far more dangerous than anyone had guessed.
As the Q&A thread continued to spiral into the most popular discussion on every platform, someone finally shifted the topic away from vampires:
Q:Okay, so if the movies were wrong about you, what about the elves? Are they really as noble and wise as they look in fantasy stuff? Or is that just more Hollywood fluff?
The Crimson Court's account replied with a very long, very tired sigh written out in text:
A:Ah, the elves… yes, you have probably seen them in the news lately. How should we say this politely? Extremely arrogant. They look down on humanity, and they do not even spare much respect for dragons, who are older than their first trees.
This answer came with a follow‑up:
A:Do not be fooled by the stories of wise, noble sages. Some individuals may be courteous, but their culture as a whole is built on the belief that they are superior to everyone else. This is not an exaggeration. Their arrogance is so deeply rooted that thousands of years ago, they permanently cut off their ties with the human race.
People in the thread immediately erupted:
"Wait, so they cut themselves off from humanity on purpose??""So the stuck-up thing isn't a joke?""Even dragons get disrespected???"
Another vampire moderator chimed in, adding:
A:Yes. To be clear, there are exceptions. There are elves who are decent and even kind. But their society as a whole views humans as a… curious accident, something beneath them. They see themselves as the natural rulers of forests and magic. If you ever meet one, remember: do not expect them to treat you like an equal unless you have done something that forces them to.
Q:So they just left?
A:They left. They built their own kingdoms in hidden realms. It is only in the last few centuries, because of the awakening of mana, that they have been forced to appear in the human world again. Most of them do not like it, but their influence is enormous, and they wield magic in ways few others can.
Q:So no vampire-elf friendship movies?
A:You would have better luck making friends with a thunderstorm.
Within an hour, the thread title was trending globally:
#AskAVampire – "Elves Are Just Pretty Jerks?"
The Crimson Court's official account left a short response that was reposted tens of thousands of times:
"Let's just say: approach elves with respect, but never with illusions."
As the thread about elves began to cool down, a new wave of curious questions appeared, this time about dragons.
Q:Okay, last question. What about dragons? Do you guys hang out with them? Do vampire dragons exist? Are they real?
The Crimson Court account replied with unusual formality:
A:Dragons are very real, and they are among the oldest creatures in existence. Some of the elder dragons are so ancient that they simply do not care about the affairs of the world. They sleep in their homes on top of piles of treasure so large you cannot imagine them. Some will sleep for hundreds, even thousands of years, without ever waking.
Q:So you're saying they're richer than vampires?
A:Yes. In terms of gold, gems, artifacts, and treasures, even the wealth of the vampires cannot compare to them. We deal in currencies and businesses, but dragons—dragons hoard. What you see in myths about mountains of gold? That is not an exaggeration.
The account then posted a warning that was quickly pinned to the top of the thread:
A:This is a matter we cannot stress enough: never, ever think of stealing from a dragon. Dragons are extremely protective of their treasure. If they discover that even a single coin has been taken, they will hunt the thief to the ends of the earth. It does not matter where you hide. It does not matter how long it takes. They will not stop until they catch you.
The comments blew up:
"So they're like living, angry bank vaults?""Noted. Never rob a dragon.""What if I'm like really sneaky?"
To that last question, the vampire moderator responded bluntly:
A:If you are not a god, do not even try. And even gods avoid offending them unless they want war. They do not forget and they do not forgive when it comes to their treasure.
Q:So… no vampire dragons?
A:No. Dragons are dragons. They do not mix. And they are far too proud to let anyone try.
This final answer made the thread explode with memes of dragons sleeping with "Do Not Disturb (or Steal)" signs, and one popular comment that summed up the collective human realization:
Comment:"So basically… don't touch their stuff unless you have a death wish?"
Reply:"Yes."
Chapter 544 – Questions for a Vampire(Demons and Other Awkward Topics)
The online Q&A thread didn't slow down after elves and dragons. If anything, it got even busier. Someone inevitably brought up another legendary subject:
Q:So, uh… demons? Are those real? And are they as evil as the movies say?
The Crimson Court's official account answered almost instantly, as if they had been waiting for this one.
A:Yes, demons are real. But the "eternal war between angels and demons" you hear about? That ended long ago. Whatever war there once was burned itself out. These days, they mostly live in their own realms, separate from ours. They have no interest in humanity unless they are summoned.
Q:Summoned? Like in the old grimoires?
A:Exactly. Magicians can summon demons—though it is much rarer today than it once was. A summoning is usually for one of three purposes: help in battle, instruction in demonic magic, or in some cases, specialized knowledge. The cost for a demon's help is always a trade. And no, it is not your soul or your life. That kind of exchange violates the laws of demons themselves.
Q:Wait. So what's the price?
A:Most of the time, the price is physical: rare minerals, magical reagents, crafted tools, or artifacts. Think of it like paying a consulting fee. You want knowledge? You bring payment. You want them to fight? You bring payment.
Then the vampire added, almost as an afterthought:
A:However, there is a… let's call it a "popular form of summoning" that has nothing to do with battle.
Q:What do you mean, popular?
The reply came with obvious amusement:
A:Succubus and incubus. You can probably guess why people summon them.
The entire thread went silent for a moment before exploding with comments:
"Oh. Ohhh. That makes sense now.""So THAT'S what all those suspicious summoning circles in romance novels are about.""You're telling me people literally pay for a hookup with a demon???"
The vampire moderator confirmed, without an ounce of shame:
A:Yes. And they pay up front. Magical services are still services. And no—before you ask—we do not accept demon coins in exchange for that kind of contract.
Q:…Wait. So does that actually work? Like, do they… you know…
A:Yes. They do. It is very real. And yes, you still have to pay.
Q:That is the funniest and saddest thing I've read all week.
A:You would be surprised at how often it happens. The summoning circles used for succubus and incubus are some of the most frequently reused circles in history.
The comment section went wild, producing memes within minutes: pictures of candles and chalk circles captioned "Netflix and Circle," or "Do not disturb—important demonic research in progress."
Even the Crimson Court replied to one meme with: "You all summon them for that, but never for research. Priorities, humans."
The online discussion, which had already descended into chaos over the summoning of succubi and incubi, took an even stranger turn when someone asked:
Q:So, uh… if demons like succubi and incubi are real, do they have kids? Are there half‑demons?
The Crimson Court account answered with surprising frankness:
A:It is possible. But very rare. Demonic fertility is one of the lowest of any species we know. Even if a summoner and a succubus or incubus wanted a child, conception is almost impossible without years of effort.
Naturally, the comments demanded more detail.
Q:Wait… like years? How many years?
A:In the case of succubi and incubi, their conception rate is so low that some partners have to engage in intercourse continuously for years before a single conception succeeds. There are cases where it takes a decade. Sometimes even longer.
The thread exploded instantly.
"YEARS???""So you're telling me that all those books where someone gets a demon pregnant in one passionate night are total lies?""Imagine being in that relationship: ten years, non-stop, just for one kid."
One vampire moderator dryly replied:
A:That is exactly why you do not hear about many half‑demons. They exist, but they are so rare that most of them are either famous… or infamous.
Someone else commented:
Q:So basically, summoning a succubus for fun is easy, but getting a kid out of it is like winning the divine lottery?
A:Correct. Summoners usually don't even try for that. They summon for their… other reasons. Which, apparently, is humanity's favorite topic in this thread.
A final vampire comment pinned to the top summed up the section:
A:In short: yes, demons can have children. No, it is not simple. If you think you can just summon a demon for one night and start a new bloodline, forget it. That is a fantasy that will never happen.
As the thread calmed down (only slightly) after the revelations about demon fertility, someone posted a serious question, bolded in capital letters:
Q:So who's actually in charge of Hell now? Is there like a king or queen of demons?
The Crimson Court account took a few minutes before replying, and when it did, the answer was unexpected.
A:There is no single king or queen of Hell. That has not been the case for a very long time. Hell is now ruled as a council, and those who hold the greatest power there are known as the Seven Deadly Sins.
Naturally, everyone wanted to know more.
Q:Wait. As in THE Seven Deadly Sins? Like Pride, Wrath, Envy… that whole list?
A:Exactly those. They are not just ideas or symbolic figures. They are real entities—ancient, powerful demons who embody those sins so perfectly that they became rulers over their own domains within Hell. They do not all get along, but their council keeps Hell balanced. Each one governs a vast region of that realm and commands legions under their banner.
Q:Do they ever come out? Like, to Earth?
A:Not unless summoned. They are far too busy managing Hell itself. Summoning one of the Seven is a dangerous act, and it is not something a normal magician can do. It requires an immense price—treasures, knowledge, and sometimes a lifetime of service. Not a soul, not a life, but a contract that will bind you for as long as the terms demand.
Q:So they aren't plotting to take over the world?
A:No. That is another human myth. After the old war ended, they stopped meddling directly in the human world. They prefer their peace. But if they are summoned, they will honor their contracts. And if they are insulted… well, let us just say that very few survive offending one of them.
The response made the thread explode again with memes:
"Imagine your landlord is Wrath.""So Hell is basically a magical HOA run by seven overpowered people.""Demons sound a lot more organized than our governments."
The Crimson Court responded to that last one with: "We will neither confirm nor deny."
Chapter 545 – Questions for a Vampire (Angels and the Ones Who Fell)
After demons and Hell, the online community's curiosity turned to the other side of the ancient war.
Q:Alright, so if demons aren't like the movies, then what about angels? Are they still all about justice and divine punishments? Do they have a ruler like the Seven Deadly Sins?
The Crimson Court's verified account responded with a tone that was noticeably more careful:
A:Your angels are exactly what you imagine them to be in one respect: they are beings of very high purity and very high moral standards. Their rules are strict—extremely strict. They hold themselves and others to standards that most mortals could not live by for even a day. For them, order and morality are everything.
Q:That sounds… stifling. Doesn't anyone ever get tired of that?
There was a pause before the next reply appeared.
A:Many do. That is why some of them leave. Those who can no longer bear the rules of Heaven become what you call fallen angels. They are not all "evil" as your stories suggest. Many simply cannot stand to live bound by so many restrictions. Some wish to experience freedom. Some wish to live as they choose. And so, they fall.
Q:So are fallen angels like demons then? Do they go around causing chaos?
A:Not exactly. Some fallen angels do choose a destructive path, yes. Others live quietly, far from both Heaven and Hell. They do not want to destroy anything—they simply want to live without Heaven's constant rules. The angels themselves do not speak of them. They do not publicly judge them. They simply… let them go.
Q:Wait, so a fallen angel doesn't automatically become evil?
A:Correct. "Fallen" means they have left the order of Heaven. That is all. Humans, unfortunately, turned the term into something synonymous with corruption. The truth is far more complicated. Many of them are still beings of great compassion. They just refuse to be chained to what Heaven demands.
The thread immediately filled with comments:
"So fallen angels are basically celestial quitters?""Imagine being so pure that even 'slacking off' gets you banished.""Kind of respect that, honestly."
And, as always, memes followed—images of angels dramatically throwing down their halos with the caption "I'm done with this job."
The Crimson Court moderator replied to one particularly popular meme with:
"Perhaps not inaccurate."
As the chat filled with jokes about angels "resigning," a more serious question appeared, one that quickly gathered thousands of upvotes:
Q:If Hell has the Seven Deadly Sins ruling it… then who rules Heaven? Is there like a single god, or someone in charge?
The Crimson Court's reply came after a brief pause:
A:Heaven is not ruled by one single being in the way you imagine. It is guided and administered by the Seven Archangels. They are the pillars of Heaven. Each one governs a domain and carries the will of Heaven itself. Their names and duties vary depending on the religion or culture you follow, but the number remains the same: seven.
Q:So the Seven Archangels are basically the opposite of the Seven Deadly Sins?
A:In a way, yes. They embody what angels stand for: order, virtue, and guardianship. Where the Sins lead through strength and freedom, the Archangels lead through rules and purity. The balance between them has kept both realms from falling into chaos since the end of the old war.
Q:Do the Archangels ever come down here?
A:Very rarely. For something like that to happen, the situation must be extreme, beyond the reach of ordinary angels or mortals. They are not beings who walk among humans often, because their presence alone can be overwhelming. But there are records of them appearing throughout history—always at turning points.
Q:So does that mean Heaven and Hell just leave Earth alone now?
A:Mostly. Both sides have learned that constant interference only causes more chaos. Demons stay in Hell, angels in Heaven. The only ones who cross the line now are those summoned by magicians or those who choose to leave their realms voluntarily, like the fallen angels you asked about earlier.
Q:Seven Sins. Seven Archangels. Is there going to be like a baseball game between them someday?
The vampire moderator answered that with a single dry comment:
"If that ever happens, I suggest watching from another planet."
The thread erupted with laughter, and once again, the Crimson Court had managed to turn a tense and serious topic into a strangely approachable one for millions of curious humans.
Just when the online discussion had become calm again after the revelation about the Seven Archangels, one of the users posted a rather bold question that instantly rocketed to the top of the thread:
Q:Uh… this might sound dumb, but when angels want to have children, do they do it like humans do? Or is there some kind of divine magic way?
The Crimson Court's account answered with surprising straightforwardness, as if they had heard this question a thousand times before:
A:Yes, angels reproduce the same way that humans do. There is nothing strange or magical about the process itself. However… there is a rule that makes it very different for them.
Q:A rule?
A:They must absolutely not have lustful thoughts during the act. For angels, desire itself is considered an impurity. They are expected to treat the act only as a means to create life, never as an indulgence. If they fail to uphold this standard—if they allow lust to control them—they risk falling. In other words, they can become fallen angels as a result.
The entire thread exploded.
"Wait so angels basically have to think about taxes the whole time???""That's… the most boring version of romance I've ever heard of.""I'm 99% sure I'd be a fallen angel within five minutes."
The vampire moderator added a dry clarification:
A:This is one of the reasons so few angels choose to have children. The fear of crossing the line is great. Even the purest being can make mistakes if they feel passion. And that mistake can cost them Heaven itself.
Another user commented:
Q:So that explains why fallen angels exist in the first place, huh?
A:Sometimes. Some fall because of ideology. Others fall because they experience emotions they were never meant to feel. Angels are bound to very strict standards, and those standards do not forgive.
A final humorous exchange finished the topic:
Q:So if a baby is born and an angel falls, does the baby still get to stay an angel?
A:The baby is innocent. The baby remains what they are. The fallen angel? That's another story entirely. Heaven does not give warnings for this kind of thing.
Comment:"So angels basically have the strictest HR policy in the world."
Reply from Crimson Court:"That is… a surprisingly accurate way to describe it."