The cold night air gradually softened as a pale orange hue began to bleed across the horizon. The carriage bounced rhythmically over the cobblestone roads, heading steadily toward the towering white walls of Caria City.
Because the transport carriage had open, un-curtained windows to let the mountain breeze circulate, the sharp, piercing rays of the first morning light struck directly across my forehead. The sudden warmth and brightness jolted me awake. I blinked my single, functional right eye, my gaze adjusting to the dim interior of the cabin.
Leaning heavily against either side of me were my two sleeping companions. Evelyn was fast asleep against my right shoulder, her breathing slow and even, while the exhausted Luminous Commander snored softly against my left, his heavy silver armor clinking faintly with every bump in the road. They were completely dead to the world after the grueling siege at Rebelbub Castle.
"Hey, bounty hunter, what... what happened to your face? That burned mark looks incredibly deep."
He was looking closely at the jagged, discolored flesh near my temple… a distinct scar from the torture cellars of Town Tata. Still half-awake, my instincts weren't fully online yet. Before I could gesture for him to back off, the well-meaning knight reached into his uniform pocket, pulled out a small, polished silver hand-mirror, and held it up to my face so I could see what he was talking about.
"Look here, the skin looks entirely… " The knight froze, his words cutting off instantly as he stared at the glass.
My heart hammered against my ribs as adrenaline completely flooded my system. The mirror was completely blank. Because of my monstrous, S-rank lineage as a true vampire entity, I possessed a complete lack of reflection. Where my scarred face and bone mask should have been, the silver glass showed absolutely nothing… just an eerie, empty space revealing the carriage seat behind me.
Damn it.
A lack of physical reflection was the ultimate, undeniable signature of the Crimson Phantom. If this knight connected the dots, he would realize that the legendary hunter sitting in this carriage was actually a blood-sucking winged demon with an active 16-gold bounty on her head. The entire heroic illusion would shatter before we even reached the gates of Caria City.
Acting purely on raw, predatory reflex, my right hand shot forward like a striking viper. I snatched the silver mirror out of his grasp before he could process the anomaly. With a violent, sweeping motion of my arm, I hurled the mirror straight out of the open carriage window. It sailed through the morning air and shattered into a thousand useless pieces against the rocky roadside below.
The knight gasped, recoiling back into his seat in absolute shock, his face turning pale. He stared at me, trembling slightly under the terrifying, silent glare of my single eye behind the bone mask.
I didn't make a sound. I simply raised a single, scarred finger to the lips of my mask, warning him to keep his mouth shut. The message was crystal clear: ask another question, and you'll end up like Cameron Gal. He nodded frantically, swallowing hard, completely terrified into silence as the carriage rolled closer to the royal capital.
The knight across from me remained pressed hard against the wooden paneling of the carriage wall, his eyes darting frantically toward the open window where his mirror had just vanished into the gorge. He didn't dare breathe loudly, let alone speak another word. Beside me, the steady, rhythmic breathing of Evelyn and the soft, metallic snoring of the Luminous Commander provided a bizarrely peaceful soundtrack to the underlying tension radiating through my veins.
I leaned my head back against the leather upholstery, shifting my weight slightly to alleviate the dull ache in my lower abdomen… a constant, quiet reminder of the S-rank demonic lineage expanding silently inside my womb. Turning my face away from the terrified soldier, I peeped through the open window, my single right eye scanning the rapidly changing landscape as the carriage crossed the massive outer thresholds of the capital.
Caria City was a sprawling, titanic metropolis of nine distinct districts, a stone-and-steel monument to the kingdom's absolute power. We had bypassed the roaring forge-fires and blackened sky of the 1st District to the north, avoided the humming, mana-saturated spires of the 2nd District's academies, and skimmed past the tightly packed, middle-class townhouses of the 3rd District. Our route didn't even take us toward the familiar, heavily fortified administration blocks of the 4th District… the Bastion… where the Luminous Knight Bureau Association ran its global operations amid the constant scent of sharpening steel and bureaucratic parchment. We were rising higher, climbing the massive, sweeping spiraled inclines that cut through the heart of the geography.
Looking downward, I could see the sharp contrasts of the city layout. The 5th District's maze of slums and tenements looked like a dark, festering wound from this altitude, a stark contrast to the sprawling, vibrant bazaars of the 6th District and the glittering, neon-lit magic lanterns of the 7th District's entertainment dens. Farther out, the disciplined, sprawling training squares of the 8th District's military barracks looked like a miniature grid of iron and cloth.
But our carriage wasn't stopping for the common world. We were heading straight into the 9th District: The Central District. The Crown of Caria.
Situated on a towering, massive hill dead in the absolute center of the metropolis, the 9th District overlooked every other sector like an apex predator watching its territory. This was the sacred ground where the Great Castle loomed, shielded by the thickest white-stone walls, the most complex anti-magic barrier arrays, and the most elite, high-tier paladins the crown could employ. During my entire time surviving on the harsh streets of Caria, never in my life would I have ever dreamed of setting foot within this district. It was an impossibility. Under normal circumstances, the aggressively hostile gatekeepers and elite sentinel lines blocked every single path leading up the hill, ensuring that only bloodline royals, corrupt noblemen, and the highest-ranking command staff of the Bureau could safely enter.
The carriage slowed to a crawl as we reached the golden-gilded outer gates of the Crown. A unit of Royal Sentinels, clad in heavy, pristine white-and-gold plate armor that put the regular Luminous Knights to shame, stepped forward to inspect the vehicle. The moment they recognized the sigil on our carriage and saw the severed, green-haired head of Cameron Gal resting loosely on the floorboards through the window, their stern, elitist expressions shattered into sheer disbelief. They quickly slammed their halberds against the stone in a unified salute, swinging the massive, enchanted iron gates wide open.
As the carriage rolled across the immaculate, polished marble streets of the 9th District, I leaned closer to the window and took a deep breath. For the very first time, the true, unfiltered scent of the high nobility filled my senses.
It was an overwhelming, almost suffocating aroma. It smelled of expensive, imported elven perfumes, rare fragrant blossoms blooming in manicured royal gardens, high-grade magical incense burning from golden censers, and the crisp, clean mountain air that only the wealthiest could afford to breathe. The streets were lined with magnificent, whitewashed estates and sprawling chateaus, populated by pristine noblemen in silk robes and high-ranking Luminous Paladins whose weapons radiated pure, holy light.
And then, there was me.
I was just a commoner. A nameless, broken drifter who had crawled into the gates of Caria barely a month ago with nothing but a thirst for survival and a blade. I was a mute, one-armed woman with a scarred, sun-tanned body, an empty eye socket, and a pair of monstrous, translucent blood wings tucked hidden beneath a tattered, crimson trench coat. To these pristine aristocrats, I looked like an anomaly… a gritty, blood-soaked piece of the underworld dragged directly into their flawless paradise.
They looked at our carriage with eyes full of curiosity and elite judgment, entirely ignorant of the reality behind my calcified bone mask. They didn't know that the "commoner bounty hunter" the King and Queen had summoned was actually the Crimson Phantom, a lethal, blood-sucking vanguard demon carrying a historic 16-gold bounty on her own head. They didn't know I had just systematically slaughtered their greatest military threat, or that I was currently harboring the unborn child of the very rebel commander whose head was rolling on the floor of our transport.
I leaned back into the shadows of the carriage cabin as the massive, towering spires of the Great Castle began to blot out the morning sun.
I reached out with my right hand and firmly nudged Evelyn's shoulder, snapping her out of her deep slumber. She jolted slightly, rubbing her eyes as she mumbled,
"Big sister... where are we?"
Still half-asleep, she leaned over and peeped through the open window of the carriage. The moment her eyes locked onto the immaculate white-stone estates and the towering spires above us, her jaw dropped, her drowsiness completely vanishing.
"Wait... we're in the 9th District!"
Unlike me, Evelyn wasn't a stranger to this elevated world. As a Rank 3 Luminous Knight, she had crossed these exclusive thresholds before for high-level military briefings, whereas I was nothing more than a wide-eyed tourist gaping at a paradise built on the backs of the lower sectors. Her sharp features shifted into focus, the faint, natural glow of her bioluminescent hair tips pulsing a little brighter in the morning shade… a unique biological trait of her high-tier slime manipulation.
The carriage ground to a definitive halt on the polished marble courtyard. The door was pulled open from the outside by a stoic, heavily armored Royal Sentinel.
"We have arrived, Vanguard. Please exit the vehicle. Their Majesties are waiting."
I stepped down onto the pristine, glistening ground alongside Evelyn and the Commander, my heavy combat boots leaving a faint, dusty smudge on the perfect marble. I tilted my bone mask upward, my single functional eye taking in the staggering, awe-inspiring view of the Great Castle.
Seeing the massive gilded doors of the royal palace brought a sudden, chilling memory rushing back to the forefront of my mind. Exactly one month ago, back in the dim, paper-strewn office of the 4th District, Chief Anton had practically begged me to walk away from the Registry of the Condemned. I could still hear his panicked, pleading voice echoing in my head:
"Eirene! If you do this... if you actually bring back his head... the king himself will have to acknowledge you." Chief Anton said base on my memories.
It was a flawless, terrifying piece of foreshadowing. Anton had thought he was warning me of an impossibility, a death sentence at the hands of a green-haired monster who turned villages into gardens of impaled corpses. He thought Cameron Gal would make me a masterpiece of pain.
Instead, the commander of the Immoral Knights was dead. His severed head was sitting securely in the hands of the Luminous Commander next to me, his wicked life cut short by a shotgun blast to the throat, and his unborn child was quietly anchoring itself within my body.
I adjusted the tattered collar of my crimson trench coat, ensuring the thick fabric completely concealed my withered left stump and the sharp, protruding joints of the blood wings tucked against my spine. I had survived the flaying cellars, I had systematically executed the top three S-rank bounties on the registry, and now, the prophecy was being fulfilled. The commoner, the mute executioner, the hidden demon of the Bureau, was walking up the palace steps to claim her king's ransom.
The massive, gilded double doors of the inner sanctum groaned open, revealing the grand throne room of Caria Castle. The sheer scale of the chamber was breathtaking. Towering marble pillars wrapped in solid gold filigree stretched toward a vaulted ceiling painted with historic battle scenes. The floor beneath my heavy boots was a seamless sheet of polished obsidian, reflecting the warm, ambient glow of thousands of floating magical candles.
At the far end of the hall, seated upon two magnificent, raised thrones carved from pure white quartz, were the King and Queen of Caria. They wore flowing garments of royal purple and midnight blue, their crowns catching the light with blinding brilliance. Flanking either side of the raised dais stood rows of wealthy noblemen in silk robes, high-ranking Luminous Paladins, and the absolute higher-ups of the Bureau administration… all of them staring intently at the entrance.
As our small group walked down the long, intimidating carpet, the heavy silence of the room was broken by the echoing, booming voice of the King.
"Eirene Rynd, the bounty hunter." the King proclaimed, his powerful voice reverberating off the marble walls, his sharp gaze locking directly onto my calcified bone mask.
For a moment, a rare wave of confusion washed over my analytical mind. Having spent my entire life in the gritty trenches of the lower districts, dealing with back-alley informants, corrupt guards, and blood-soaked battlefields, the sheer pageantry and stiff formality of the royal court felt entirely alien. I stood frozen for a split second, my single functional eye blinking beneath my mask, genuinely unsure of the proper protocol or what was supposed to happen next.
Evelyn noticed my hesitation and leaned in close, her bioluminescent hair tips brushing against my shoulder as she gave me a gentle, reassuring nudge.
"Big sister, the King is calling you, step to the center of the hall." she whispered urgently, her voice hushed but filled with pride.
Shaking off the brief disorientation, I focused my mind. I adjusted the drape of my crimson trench coat to ensure my withered left stump and the sharp joints of my tucked blood wings remained perfectly concealed from the prying, judgmental eyes of the high nobility.
With measured, deliberate steps, I walked out into the exact center of the obsidian floor, standing directly before the rulers of the kingdom. The ruthless bounty hunter, the hidden S-rank Crimson Phantom, and the pregnant executor of the rebellion had finally taken center stage.