History never disappears.
No matter how carefully it is edited, buried, or rewritten, it always leaves traces behind. And there will always be people—curious, obsessive, or simply malicious—who devote their lives to digging them up, patiently waiting for the day truth can no longer be suppressed.
This was true in the world before transmigration.And it was just as true in this one.
Humans or vampires—it made no difference.
Most called it curiosity.But Smoke Baron knew better.
People wanted filth behind glory. They wanted proof that even the brightest legends had once crawled through the mud.
And among vampires, such secrets spread even more stubbornly.
Immortality meant time.Time meant accumulation.
Rumors circulated in whispers—never openly, never recklessly—held in check only by the brutal laws and merciless hierarchy of vampire society.
Smoke Baron had lived for over five centuries.
Before becoming a vampire, he had been a politician. A man trained to manipulate narratives, erase inconvenient facts, and reshape history with a smile and a signature.How many truths had he personally buried back then?
He had lost count.
So when immortality gave him five hundred years to observe, collect, and connect fragments, he did what came naturally.
He turned himself into a living archive.
And among the countless secrets he had gathered, one stood above the rest.
The origin of the vampires.
According to the official doctrine upheld by the High Clans, vampires were born from God's curse.Seven individuals had been punished.Those seven became the Vampire Kings—scattered across the world, ruling all bloodlines as the First Generation.
They were worshipped as living gods.
But… was that truly the beginning?
Smoke Baron had heard another version.
A forbidden one.
The first vampire was not one of the Seven.
It was Adam.
God created Adam.From Adam came humanity—and from humanity, countless other races.
Together, they defied God.
Divine wrath followed.
And at the moment of judgment, Adam—God's own creation—stood against Him.
The curse fell upon Adam alone.
Cast from the heavens, Adam descended to Earth and, from among the humans of Eden, transformed three into beings like himself.Not servants.Not soldiers.But heirs.
The true leaders of all bloodlines.
Yet Adam vanished soon after—forced into hiding to escape divine pursuit. And in his absence, ambition took root.
Those who were meant to follow instead conspired.
The three Second-Generation vampires were sealed beneath a mountain.Seven Third-Generation vampires participated in the betrayal.
History was rewritten.
The Seven declared themselves the First Generation.
If this forbidden account was even partially true, then the bloodline hierarchy itself was a lie.Smoke Baron wasn't Ninth Generation.
He was Eleventh.
Even this version, he knew, was distorted. Time had twisted facts into myth.
Adam had not created the Second Generation intentionally.He had not wandered the world to evade angels.
In truth, Adam had once been buried beneath the sands of the Sahara—sealed away, forgotten, unreachable.
But accuracy mattered less than implication.
Smoke Baron had never dared speak of this to anyone. Not even to Vine.
Until now.
Now, a man stood before him.
Calling himself Adam.
A chill ran through Smoke Baron's spine.
If this man truly was the Progenitor… then the consequences were unimaginable.
The vampire society worshipped age and lineage. Elders were treated as divine authority.But what would happen if it was revealed that those elders had once betrayed beings far older than themselves?
Their entire moral foundation would collapse.
A thousand years of order would turn into a joke.
Civil war would be inevitable.
And more than that—
Adam's existence meant potential.
The purest bloodline.The ability to create legends with a single thought.
If given time, no one could stop his rise.
This was not merely a shift of power.
It was a mythic upheaval—one that would shake the entire dark world.
In such a storm, only one thing mattered.
Choosing the right side.
Smoke Baron was no fool. He would not mock this man like Gu Dian had, only to be erased in seconds.
A decision was forming in his mind.
But one thing was missing.
Proof.
Slowly, Smoke Baron extended the aged left hand he had kept hidden in his sleeve.
Adam watched the gesture—and froze.
Proof?
What proof could he give?
Relics were meaningless. Everything he once carried had been incinerated when he fell to Earth—skin, bone, possessions alike.Even if something had survived, would a modern vampire recognize it?
History?He could recount every detail of that era—both recorded and erased—but would this man be able to tell truth from legend?
Then—
Blood.
Adam could read lineage through blood.
Perhaps this vampire could too.
It was a gamble.But it was the only one.
Adam extended his right hand. His left index fingernail lengthened slightly, slicing his skin open with surgical precision.
A single drop of blood welled up.
He offered it.
Smoke Baron's breath caught.
Not all vampires could identify bloodlines by taste.
In fact—
Only one being ever could.
To Smoke Baron, this gesture meant something else entirely.
"Second rebirth…" he whispered, eyes wide.
Primordial blood.
Even the essence of an Eighth-Generation vampire was priceless.What stood before him now was something that existed only in myth.
If this blood was real—
Then so was Adam.
And if Adam was real—
Then the forbidden history held truth.
Smoke Baron's heart thundered.
If he accepted this blood, he would stand above the Seven Vampire Kings themselves.
And there was no real risk.
Vampires were immune to poison.Consuming weaker blood caused no harm.
There had never been a case of regression.
This was a gamble where the worst outcome changed nothing.
And the best—
Changed everything.
Smoke Baron's mustache trembled.
In his ancient eyes, fanatic fire ignited.