For a brief moment after Kevlar’s declaration, the hall fell into a silence so heavy it felt as though even the shadows were holding their breath.

  Then Varain broke it.

  “Well,” he said, leaning back with his usual half-grin, arms crossed loosely behind his head, “so are we just gonna go in like a blast and destroy everything—” he gestured vaguely, “—or should we give ’em a polite door knock first?”

  Eslene didn’t even look at him before facepalming.

  “Why don’t I send you to knock,” she replied flatly, “since you’re so eager to volunteer.”

  Varain laughed.

  “Hey, sister, I’m just curious about the plan.” His tone shifted slightly, more serious now. “After all, it’s not just any city.”

  He looked around the hall.

  “It’s the Holy City of the Vatican.”

  No one argued.

  Everyone present knew the weight of that name—even before the Vatican was revealed as an enemy. The Holy City was legend: a bastion of sanctified magic, layered enchantments, and architectural dominance that dwarfed most capitals.

  Lucien spoke up, his brows furrowed in thought.

  “Now that I think about it,” he said slowly, “their city design almost feels… unreal.”

  He turned toward Eslene.

  “Do you remember the first time we visited? The outer defensive wall alone—its height, its thickness.”

  Eslene nodded.

  “We were all stunned.”

  “At the time,” Lucien continued, “we thought it was just spectacle. A symbol of divine authority to make it that tall and big.”

  His gaze darkened.

  “But now… it feels like they always knew one day their city would be attacked.”

  Kazane folded his arms, voice steady but grim.

  “Agreed. Breaching their outer defense will not be easy.”

  He tapped his scabbard lightly against the stone floor.

  “I would assume their mages and archers are already heavily positioned along the walls. Any force approaching openly would be slaughtered before even reaching the gates.”

  “Even with numbers,” he added, “we would simply become sitting ducks.”

  The room turned toward Kevlar.

  He hadn’t spoken yet—but the faint smirk tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Well,” Kevlar said at last, “if we can’t breach it with quantity…”

  He paused, eyes glinting.

  “…then we’ll do it with quality.”

  Seraphine frowned slightly.

  “What does that even mean?” she asked. “Even if we gather all our elite and veteran hunters, the disadvantage—”

  Kevlar cut in smoothly.

  “I never said hunters.”

  Silence.

  Confusion spread across several faces—until Kazane suddenly froze.

  Then he chuckled.

  “…Wait a minute.”

  His eyes widened, followed by a slow, incredulous laugh.

  “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “You don’t mean—”

  He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

  “Hah… you really are a crazy one.”

  Kevlar smiled knowingly.

  “Their capabilities are more than enough,” he said calmly, “to overcome everything we just mentioned. Tall walls. Reinforced barriers. Numbers.”

  He spread his hands slightly.

  “To those who possess power meant to counter such things, numbers don’t matter.”

  Lucien’s eyes widened first.

  Then Seraphine’s breath caught.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “…Wait,” she said slowly. “Kevlar—you can’t be serious.”

  “I’m very serious,” Kevlar replied, smile unwavering.

  “A solution, however absurd, is still a solution.”

  “And this one… is possible.”

  Varain blinked.

  “Okay, I’m lost,” he said. “What exactly is Kevlar talking about?”

  Kazane answered before Kevlar could.

  “What do you think,” he said, “can scale a wall of that height, tear through sanctified battalions, and overwhelm soldiers alone—without breaking a sweat?”

  Varain stared blankly.

  Then Eslene’s eyes widened.

  “…A vampire.”

  Varain snapped toward her.

  “WAIT—WHAT?!”

  He spun back to Kevlar.

  “Are you serious?! Isn’t that insanely dangerous?!”

  Before Kevlar could respond, soft footsteps echoed behind him.

  A presence—cold, regal, unmistakable.

  Camilia approached from behind Kevlar’s chair, boldly seated herself on the opposite armrest.

  “With me,” Camilia said smoothly, “it is possible.”

  Varain swallowed.

  “Apologies for my rudeness,” he stammered. “But… who might you be, my lady?”

  Camilia smiled.

  “I am Camilia Corvan,” she said gently, “daughter of Draculius.”

  She tilted her head slightly.

  “Duchess of the Crimson Citadel.”

  Varain froze.

  Ruler of the Night?

  The Duchess of the Crimson Citadel?!

  His thoughts spiraled.

  That’s the Royal Ones’ domain…

  She’s the current ruler of the vampires—

  And I just called her Lady!.

  I’m so dead.

  Everyone else remained tense, but no hostility surfaced. She was Kevlar’s companion—that alone restrained any reckless reaction.

  Camilia noticed Varain’s panic.

  Then she laughed.

  Not cruelly. Not loudly.

  Soft. Almost… cute.

  “How adorable,” she said, leaning slightly forward.

  “Calm down, young one.”

  Her voice dipped just enough.

  “I won’t bite.”

  Varain’s panic didn’t fade.

  It melted.

  Eslene immediately facepalmed again.

  “So,” she said tiredly, “we have the Duchess of the Vampires with us. That makes this plan far more plausible.”

  She looked directly at Camilia.

  “But are you sure those prideful Royal Ones would even ally with humans?”

  Camilia’s smile never faded.

  “As long as I command it,” she replied calmly, “they will obey.”

  Her eyes hardened—just a fraction.

  “Those who don’t… no longer live.”

  A chill rippled through the hall.

  Even Seraphine felt it.

  A reminder—not a threat—of what Camilia truly was.

  Kazane cleared his throat.

  “Alright,” he said. “Let’s assume we go with this plan.”

  He looked at Kevlar.

  “What happens after we breach the wall?”

  Before Kevlar could answer—

  The ground trembled.

  A distant impact echoed from beyond the dimension.

  Lilith raised her hand, casting a projection into the air.

  The image revealed Theoren, Elric, Sarville, and Mereth deep within the forest, standing amid the remains of a freshly slain beast.

  Kevlar looked at Lilith before giving requesting. “Lilith. Open the portal to let them in”

  She snapped her fingers.

  A void-black portal formed before the four heads.

  A voice echoed within their minds.

  Heads of the Houses. Please step through the portal to reach the meeting place.

  They exchanged glances—then stepped forward.

  This time, there was no transition through greenery. They emerged directly into the Hall of the Houses.

  As each head entered, their respective heirs approached, bowing in respect. Only Kazane remained seated, giving them a casual wave.

  Kevlar stepped forward.

  “Respective Heads,” he said, “welcome to my home. Since we’re now in full attendance—let’s do a quick walkthrough of what you’ve missed.”

  He summarized everything.

  The Maw awakening.

  The Vatican’s interference.

  The Archangels.

  The cannons.

  The impending catastrophe.

  The heads listened—silent, focused, grave.

  Kevlar then continued.

  “Returning to Lord Kazane’s question.”

  He gestured to the projection of the Holy City.

  “After breaching the wall, we will split into teams.”

  “First Team, Eslene and Lucien. You will handle the west zone.”

  “Second Team, Varain and Seraphine. East zone.”

  “Your objectives are the same,” he said firmly.

  “Locate and rescue civilians take priority on your part. If you can stop the awakening process, do it.”

  His gaze hardened.

  “If you encounter any opposition, eliminate it—do not hesitate.”

  “A moment of hesitation may cost your life… or doom the mission.”

  Every heir nodded solemnly.

  “Third Team,” Kevlar continued, “will be the heavy assault.”

  He named them one by one.

  “Myself. Draculius. Lilith. Camilia, Serena.”

  “Lord Elric. Lord Kazane. Lord Theoren. Lady Mereth.”

  “We will storm the Citadel at the city’s center.”

  Elric frowned slightly.

  “Kevlar… why focus all our strongest forces there?”

  Kevlar answered without hesitation.

  “Because the critical factor of this battle is the Archangels.”

  His voice dropped.

  “We don’t know how many exist.”

  “If their number exceeds ours, missing even one powerhouse will be fatal.”

  “If those Archangel awakens before we stop it—then we will have to deal with it.”

  “And if we fall…”

  He paused.

  “…then it ends for everyone.”

  Theoren spoke next.

  “You fought one. Or rather—two.”

  His gaze briefly flicked toward Serena.

  “How strong are they?”

  Kevlar’s expression darkened.

  “Lumiel was… special,” he said. “A battle-type. Adaptive. He learned during while fighting so the longer it goes, the more he could counter.”

  “I only won by because my violet flame overwhelm his defensive barrier, but in a pure physical combat he held the advantage.”

  Mereth asked quietly,

  “How do we measure ourselves against them?”

  Kevlar answered honestly.

  “At maximum output—two of you would be required to handle one Archangel.”

  Kazane grimaced.

  “Which means four of us handle two,” he calculated.

  “Serena can deal with one. Draculius, Lilith and Camilia another three.”

  He exhaled.

  “That’s six.”

  “The number isn’t comforting at all.”

  Draculius finally spoke.

  “But it is what we have,” he said calmly.

  “So we make do.”

  He glanced at Kazane as if expecting something more from him.

  Kazane sighed.

  “…Fine. You old bastard.”

  He straightened.

  “I’ll call upon the Seven Swordsmen.”

  Kevlar blinked.

  “Those seven from before? Are they truly that strong?”

  Mereth answered.

  “They are,” she said. “The Seven are chosen regardless of generation—the strongest of the East, sworn to protect the clan head.”

  Kazane continued.

  “They also have another purpose.”

  “One known only to clan heads.”

  He looked around.

  “They exist to kill the clan head… should he betray the clan.”

  Silence followed.

  “So yes,” Kazane said. “Their strength is very real.”

  Kevlar nodded slowly.

  “Then we proceed with confidence.”

  He turned to the gathered heads.

  “This battle decides the future of this world.”

  “Mobilize your forces. Call your veterans. Your elites.”

  "The best of the best, we can no longer afford to withhold any hidden forces.”

  “This is no longer a war between mortals.”

  His eyes burned.

  “It is a war between Heaven and Earth.”

  “And since those who fell from Heaven seek to destroy us…”

  Shadows coiled subtly at his feet.

  “…then we shall seek the same for them.”