Chapter 187: Move

The marble road that led through Velmora was cracked with age but still carried the ghost of grandeur. Crimson banners swayed gently above, their edges torn by time. The city was empty. No citizens. No echoes of laughter or bloodthirst. Just the wind brushing over towers that once whispered loyalty to a forgotten crown.

Lucifer walked slowly.

His steps echoed in the silence, and every footfall felt like it stirred something deep beneath the stone. Not fear—recognition. This place remembered him.

Luna stayed close behind, her eyes scanning the rooftops and dark corners. Her breathing was soft now, less from fear and more from awe. They weren’t alone. That much was clear. Even if the streets were empty, the city watched.

Lucifer stopped once they crossed into the upper quarter. The air had changed again. He felt it before he saw it.

A familiar presence.

No... several.

He looked toward the far west of the capital—just past the broken coliseum that once held the Rite of Blood Trials. Beyond it, a faint aura flared. Sharp. Calm. Familiar in a way that pierced the spine.

His clone.

Not the mindless ones Malakov had used. This one was different. Steady. Present. Watching.

And he wasn’t alone.

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment. He focused, peeling the layers of the city’s ambient magic like skin.



Zane was nearby. His blood was unmistakable—sharp, jagged, humming with dual resonance. Blood and shadow. Vina, too. He felt her like a flash of silver fangs through fog. Angry, but loyal.

And more—others. Origin clan members. Some faint. Some far. But all here. Even witches. Werewolves. Humans.

Lucifer’s eyes opened slowly.

This wasn’t a rescue mission anymore.

It was a gathering.

The capital was pulling them in like teeth returning to a long-dead jaw.

"They’re here," Lucifer muttered.

Luna looked up. "Who?"

"My people."

Her brows tightened. "Here in Velmora?"

He nodded once. "They’re scattered... but close. Zane’s with the clone. Vina’s with the witches. The humans—they’re hiding deeper in the undersector."

She looked around at the hollow buildings, then back at him. "Where are the nobles? The family heads? I thought they ran this place."

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes trailed upward, following the winding path that led to the royal tower. The same tower where the throne sat untouched. Or so he thought.

"They left," he said finally. "Or were forced out."

"By who?"

Lucifer’s gaze darkened.

"That’s what I need to find out."

He stepped forward again, following the rising road that curved toward the tower’s heart. Every step felt heavier. The city wasn’t resisting him—but it wasn’t welcoming him either. It was... uncertain.

A sharp gust of wind hit.

Lucifer’s hair blew back, revealing his pale face under the red light of the sky. His eyes locked ahead, steady. Quiet.

Then—

The sound of boots.

Lots of them.

From the alleyways. From rooftops. From the stairwells that wound through the towers.

Luna stopped in her tracks.

"Lucifer..."

He raised a hand gently.

"I hear them."

Steel slid from sheaths in unison. Shadows stepped forward from every direction. White masks. Crimson armor. Same as the ones at the gate.

But this time, it wasn’t twelve.

It was at least forty.

They moved like water, surrounding the plaza just below the royal bridge. A perfect ring. No words. No signals.

Lucifer’s claws slowly extended from his right hand.

He didn’t raise them. Just flexed once.

"They’re not here to test me," he said.

Luna stepped closer to his side, whispering. "Then why are they here?"

Lucifer’s eyes scanned the ring of armored guards. The one directly ahead stood half a step in front of the rest. His helmet bore an extra crest—an old mark from the First Throne Era.

A commander.

Lucifer tilted his head slightly.

The commander stepped forward. His voice didn’t carry arrogance. Just clarity.

"By decree of the Inner Council, and by right of ancestral law, no being of forbidden blood may approach the royal chamber without summons."

Lucifer blinked slowly.



"They summoned me the moment they let this place rot."

No answer.

The guards didn’t move.

Lucifer took one step forward. The ring tightened. Spears lowered slightly—not to strike, but to caution.

He could sense the fear in their bones, hidden behind practiced stillness.

"Move," he said.

The commander shook his head. "I can’t."

Lucifer’s fingers twitched. Shadows curled around his feet like breath.

"I won’t say it again."

The commander raised a hand, and more guards appeared from the rooftops, crossbows drawn. A few witches stood with them now. Enchanted stones pulsing at their wrists. Their faces were covered, but their magic smelled wrong—twisted by something older than this realm.

Luna tensed. "Lucifer—"

"I know," he said quietly.

He didn’t move. Not yet.

The city around them was still watching. Listening.

From the far end of the road, a faint breeze carried the scent of ash and rosewater. The direction of the clone. Of Zane. Of Vina. They’d feel what was happening soon.

And if they moved... others might follow.

Lucifer looked at the commander again.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked softly.

The commander didn’t answer. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade.

Lucifer’s aura began to shift—calm, but thick. Not explosive. Just heavy. It pushed into the air like pressure before a storm. The cobblestone cracked beneath his feet. One of the witches above stepped back, hands shaking.

Still, the circle didn’t break.

The commander finally spoke.

"You are not him," he said. "Not yet."

Lucifer smiled faintly.

"Then let’s find out."

And then—he stopped.

Because something else moved.

Far behind the guards... down the road they’d come from... another group approached. Slowly. Deliberately.

A banner of violet and gold fluttered behind them.

Not vampires.

Witches.

Not from the coven who helped him. Not Greta’s people.

This was different.

And at the front of them walked someone familiar—barefoot, with silver-white hair and cold eyes.

Valena.

Luna turned, shocked. "She followed us?"

Lucifer said nothing. His eyes never left the commander.

But a thought crept in.

Something was shifting. Rapidly. Plans were changing without his word.

And before he could move—

Another squad appeared from the left.

Same armor. Different crest.

More guards.



Now he was fully surrounded.

Lucifer’s aura swelled again, just slightly.

The city exhaled.

The tension cracked like lightning.

And for the first time since he entered the capital, the throne felt... close.

Too close.

The trap had been waiting long before he stepped through the gates.

And now it was closing.

Lucifer didn’t reach for his blades.

He didn’t run.

He simply stood there, surrounded by crimson-armored ghosts of a broken empire...

...and smiled.