CHAPTER 27: BLOOD THRONE TRIAL

The void screamed.

Lucien’s body tumbled through the abyss, time stretched and warped around him like a broken mirror. Shadows with eyes swirled past, whispering ancient names and forgotten truths that made his soul ache with recognition. He wasn’t falling—he was being dragged. Somewhere beyond comprehension, the [Blood Throne Trial] was awakening for him and him alone.

The whispers grew louder, forming words in languages that predated human civilization:

*"The Heir comes... the Bloodline stirs... the Throne hungers..."*

[SYSTEM NOTICE: BLOODLINE PURITY TEST—INITIATING]

[Warning: Interference from Prime Ancestor detected... adjusting trial difficulty to Unmeasurable.]

[CAUTION: Survival probability calculated at 0.003%]

His body slammed into a crimson platform made of bone and fire. The sudden gravity crushed his knees to the obsidian surface. Blood splattered from his mouth as the sky above him cracked open like an egg, revealing a massive, otherworldly throne made of veins, claws, and shifting runes that pulsed with malevolent life.

The throne was enormous—cathedral-sized, carved from what looked like crystallized blood and bound with chains of bone. Ancient symbols writhed across its surface like living things, occasionally forming faces that screamed silently before dissolving back into abstract patterns.

Lucien gasped for air that tasted of copper and decay.

"What... is this place?"

A voice older than death answered, echoing from everywhere and nowhere.

"Welcome, my Heir. This is the Bloodroot. The origin of our kind... and your execution ground, if you fail."

From the mist stepped her.

Lilith.

Clad in a flowing gown of shadow-thread and blood silk, her hair was a storm of midnight tendrils that moved independently, each strand alive with malice. Her gaze pierced Lucien to his soul, and her lips curved in cruel amusement. She was more than vampire—she was primordial hunger wrapped in flesh, the first of their kind, the mother of all monsters.

Her beauty was devastating and terrible, the kind that made men start wars and end civilizations. But her eyes... her eyes held the weight of eternity, the accumulated suffering of every soul she had ever consumed.

"You triggered the Crimson Pact," she purred, her voice like honey mixed with venom. "You merged with the Blood Witch. Now the throne stirs. It senses a pretender."

"I’m no pretender," Lucien said, standing despite the crushing weight that threatened to pulverize his bones. "I’ve earned this power."

Lilith glided closer, her feet never quite touching the ground. "Then prove it, child. Prove you are worthy of the legacy that flows through your veins."

She snapped her fingers.

The sound echoed like breaking glass.

[TRIAL ONE: BLOOD OF BETRAYAL]

[Objective: Sever all ties to your former humanity]

[Warning: Emotional attachment will result in immediate termination]

Before Lucien, four chained figures materialized—ghostly echoes from his past. Faces twisted in rage and sorrow. His former master, the one who had taught him to fight but never to kill. A brother he had once trusted with his life. A girl he’d once loved more than his own soul. And lastly... himself, the human Lucien, before the bite, before the hunger, before the transformation.

"You must kill the parts of you that still anchor you to weakness," Lilith whispered, circling him like a predator. "Only when you are truly alone can you claim true power."

Lucien’s jaw clenched. His hands trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer weight of what he was about to do.

His old master roared, lunging forward with spectral chains rattling. "You were never worthy! I should have killed you when I had the chance!"

Lucien summoned his aura, crimson flames licking across his arms like liquid fire. His blood magic coiled like a serpent around his fingers, hungry for violence.

"I am now," he growled—and with a swipe of his hand, disintegrated the old man into ash that tasted of regret.

His brother snarled, younger and more naive than Lucien remembered. "You let me die! You chose your power over family!"

Lucien’s eyes darkened, the golden flecks in his irises blazing brighter. "And I’d do it again. Family is weakness."

A spear formed from his blood, crystallizing into razor-sharp crimson glass. It pierced the echo’s heart with surgical precision.

The girl stepped forward next, tears streaming down her ethereal face. She was exactly as he remembered—beautiful, innocent, full of hope for a future they would never share.

"I believed in you..." she whispered. "I thought you were different."

Lucien paused.

His heart, what remained of it, clenched like a fist. For a moment, he saw her as she truly was—not an obstacle to overcome, but a reminder of what he had chosen to sacrifice.

He took one slow step forward, each footfall echoing in the cosmic silence.

"Then die knowing you were wrong."

He kissed her forehead—gentle, almost loving—and drained her into mist that tasted of lost dreams.

Only his human self remained.

This one stared at him with pain and disgust, wearing the face of who he used to be. The idealist. The hero. The fool who thought he could save everyone.

"This isn’t what we wanted," his human self said quietly. "We were supposed to help people. We were supposed to be better."

Lucien’s eyes burned with new fire, power coursing through his veins like molten metal. "I am helping them. By ruling them. By becoming what they need—a god who makes the hard choices."

He crushed his human self beneath his heel, blood erupting into the air like a shattered memory. The taste was bitter—the flavor of innocence lost forever.

[BLOOD OF BETRAYAL — PASSED]

[New Trait Gained: Crimson Will — Immune to emotional manipulation]

[Humanity Index: 0%]

[Next Trial Loading...]

Lilith clapped slowly, her applause echoing like breaking bones. "Impressive. You sever ties with your past like slicing open a throat. Good. But can you face what comes next?"

Lucien wiped blood from his lips, the metallic taste lingering. "What’s next?"

Her eyes gleamed with ancient malice. "Pain."

She raised her hands, and the very air began to crack.

The ground shattered beneath them like glass.

From beneath, a beast the size of a cathedral erupted in a shower of bone and gore. A creature with twelve eyes that burned like stars, serrated wings that could level mountains, and a crown of bone that pulsed with dark energy—The Blood Hydra, guardian of the old ways.

[TRIAL TWO: BLOOD OF THE BEAST — DEFEAT THE HYDRA WITHOUT SYSTEM ASSISTANCE]

[All supernatural abilities temporarily sealed]

[Fight with raw strength, cunning, and will alone]

Lucien’s eyes widened as the System interface blinked out of existence.

"...Perfect."

The Hydra roared, a sound like the screaming of a thousand dying suns. One of its heads lunged at him with enough force to crater the platform. Lucien rolled sideways, barely dodging the snapping jaws that left gouges in the obsidian.

He drew blood from his palm—the old way, without system assistance—and crafted a whip of crimson threads. It latched onto one of the creature’s fangs, and he yanked himself upward, using momentum and desperation to hurl himself onto its neck.

The beast shrieked, all twelve eyes focusing on him with predatory intelligence.

He stabbed his fingers into its scales, using his raw strength to climb higher. Another head lunged—but he jumped, spinning mid-air and ripping one head clean off with a blade made entirely from concentrated bloodlust and fury.

[WARNING: Each head removed triggers regeneration and duplication]

[Hydra entering berserker state]

"Of course," Lucien snarled, watching in horror as two new heads burst forth from the wound, larger and more vicious than before.

The Hydra flung him down, and Lucien hit the ground with enough force to crack bone. His ribs screamed in protest. Blood filled his mouth.

He rose, laughing.

"Good. I was getting bored."

He began to chant in a forgotten tongue—one he had never studied but remembered from the depths of his bloodline. Blood symbols carved themselves in the air around him, glowing with eldritch power.

He struck his chest and forced his heart to pump faster, overcharging his magic. His skin tore from the pressure. His veins glowed like magma beneath his flesh.

Then he leapt again.

This time, Lucien didn’t dodge. He dove straight into the Hydra’s mouth—ripping his way through its throat and bursting out the back of its skull like a cannonball of gore and determination.

The Hydra screamed, thrashing in a storm of rage and pain.

Lucien was already sprinting toward the core, its heart exposed from the inside. The organ was massive, beating with the rhythm of an ancient drum. He whispered:

"Blood—bind."

The creature froze mid-thrash.

Lucien grinned, blood streaming down his face. "Now die for your king."

The heart imploded with a sound like thunder.

The beast collapsed into a sea of crimson mist that tasted of victory and sacrifice.

[TRIAL TWO COMPLETE: BLOOD OF THE BEAST — PASSED]

[Trait Gained: Blood Apex — You can dominate lower beasts and turn them into blood constructs]

[Primal Instincts Awakened]

Lucien fell to one knee, panting, bones cracking back into place with wet, grinding sounds.

Lilith stood over him now, her expression unreadable. For the first time, he saw something in her eyes that might have been... respect?

"You’re not just surviving, Lucien. You’re evolving. Becoming something the world hasn’t seen in millennia."

"I was made for this," he hissed, forcing himself upright. "The System wants me to ascend."

Lilith leaned closer, her breath cold against his ear. "Then prove yourself one last time. Face the ultimate test."

She raised both hands, and lightning arced between her fingers.

[FINAL TRIAL: BLOOD OF THE HEIR]

[Objective: Defeat your perfect self]

[Warning: Failure means total erasure from existence]

A mirror rose before Lucien, its surface rippling like liquid mercury.

From it stepped... another Lucien.

Perfect in every way. Taller, stronger, faster. His System interface was brighter, more advanced. His aura burned hotter, more controlled. This was the version of himself that had made all the right choices, taken all the optimal paths.

"Meet the version of you the System really wanted," Lilith whispered. "Your perfect self. Kill him—or be erased from reality itself."

The clone stepped forward, eyes hollow but radiating unmatched power. When he moved, space itself seemed to bend around him.

Lucien’s heart thundered in his chest.

[System Offline for Both Combatants]

[This battle must be won through pure will and determination]

[Trial Begins in 3... 2... 1...]

The clone blurred forward, already throwing a punch that shattered the ground beneath Lucien. He barely blocked it, the impact sending tremors up his arm and into his shoulder.

He struck back, but the clone moved like liquid shadow—dodging, mocking, taunting.

"You’re rage," the clone said in his own voice. "I’m control."

"You’re calculation," Lucien spat, "I’m chaos."

The battle raged across the crimson plain. Fists met blood magic. Claws and spears. Fang and fury. They moved like gods of war, each strike capable of leveling buildings.

Lucien bit down on his own shoulder to draw more blood, forging a jagged blade mid-air. He screamed and threw it with everything he had.

The clone caught it—and broke it like glass.

Lucien blinked—too slow.

The clone’s hand plunged through his stomach, fingers emerging from his back dripping with gore.

He gasped, tasting copper and defeat.

[CRITICAL DAMAGE. INTERNAL BLEEDING]

[Vital organs compromised]

[Death imminent]

Lilith leaned in, her voice echoing from far away. "Will you die here, boy? Will you let perfection defeat passion?"

Lucien coughed blood, his vision blurring.

"...No."

He gripped the clone’s wrist—then smiled through the pain.

"System or not... I am the throne."

He exploded in a nova of raw blood magic, every drop of power he had ever accumulated, every sacrifice he had ever made, channeled into one final, desperate attack.

The clone vanished—no body left, not even ash.

Lucien collapsed, his body broken but his spirit intact.

[FINAL TRIAL PASSED]

[TITLE GAINED: BLOODBOUND TYRANT]

[SYSTEM EVOLUTION COMPLETE — UNLOCKING BLOOD SOVEREIGN MODE]

[You are now a World-Class Threat. Ascension Locked Until Bloodthrone Stabilizes]

[WARNING: Your existence now threatens the balance of reality itself]

Lilith knelt beside him, her smile no longer cruel—but proud, like a mother watching her child take their first steps.

"You did it. The throne accepts you. You are now heir to power beyond imagination."

Lucien opened his eyes—new eyes, golden-crimson and glowing with divine hunger.

"I don’t want the throne."

"...No?"

"I want everything beyond it."

---

Back in the real world, Liora and Seraphina stood surrounded by fire and corpses. The Crimson Coven circled them like wolves, their eyes glowing with bloodlust. The air reeked of death and burning flesh.

Then, the sky cracked.

A single drop of blood fell from above, hissing when it hit the ground.

Then a second.

Then—Lucien crashed from the heavens, cloaked in divine bloodflame that burned without consuming.

He stood tall.

Unstoppable.

Unchained.

The very air around him shimmered with power.

"Bow," he whispered—and half the vampires did, involuntarily, their bodies responding to an authority older than civilization.

Liora stared in awe, her voice barely a whisper. "You’re not Lucien anymore..."

Seraphina gasped, backing away instinctively. "You’re what comes after a god."

Lucien looked up, eyes fixed on the approaching armies of the Hunters and Werewolves. Thousands of them, armed with blessed weapons and righteous fury.

"Let them come," he said, his voice carrying across the battlefield like thunder. "I’ll burn the world red."

But as he spoke, something stirred in the shadows. Something that had been waiting. Watching. Planning.

A figure stepped out of the darkness—tall, pale, wearing robes that seemed to absorb light itself.

"Hello, brother," the figure said, voice like winter wind. "I’ve been waiting for you to ascend."

Lucien’s eyes widened. "Impossible. You’re dead."

"Death is just another kingdom to conquer," the figure replied. "And I’ve been busy building an army of the dead while you played with your little trials."

The ground began to crack. Skeletal hands pushed through the earth.

"Welcome to the real war, Lucien. The one that will decide the fate of all existence."

The figure raised his hand, and the dead began to rise.

Thousands of them.

Millions.

All with one purpose: to kill the Bloodbound Tyrant before he could claim his destiny.

Lucien smiled, his fangs gleaming in the crimson light.

"Finally. A worthy opponent."

The apocalypse had begun.