Chapter 229: No god!

Aria’s breath caught the longer she stared into the cage.The metallic smell of iron and decay hit her nose, sharp and bitter, mixing with the damp scent of the stone basement.

Her stomach twisted. The young vampires inside looked like shadows of living beings, huddled together with hollow cheeks and glowing red eyes that burned with both hunger and despair.

Some of them were so frail their ribs pushed through their skin, others too weak to even lift their heads. A few clung to the bars with thin, bloodstained fingers, as if hoping the cold metal could hold them steady against the weight of their misery.

It was obvious that their blood had been drained and they were being made to starve for what purpose Aria could not figure out as she stared harder at the scene in front of her.

Her voice cracked when she spoke again, louder this time, unable to stop herself.

"What is this?"

Serraphi, who had walked ahead without hesitation, turned back slowly. Her footsteps were unhurried, almost casual, the clack of her shoes against the stone echoing in the basement.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she faced the cage with her hands clasped behind her back like a guide presenting a gallery. Only after a long pause did she speak.

"This," she said calmly, "is the source of the temple’s power."

Aria blinked, her lips parting as her confusion deepened.

"What do you mean... source of power?"

Serraphi tilted her head, studying the vampires as though they were not suffering children but ingredients waiting to be used. Her tone was detached, almost clinical.

"Since the beginning of the temple, from the very first messenger, rituals have required the blood of vampires. Their blood is potent, far stronger than that of humans. Through it, we gained the gifts you saw today—the strength, the fire, the ice, the very abilities that keep us standing against demons. Without them, the temple would be powerless."

Aria staggered back a step, her throat dry. She felt her chest tighten as though she couldn’t pull in enough air.

"I thought it was..." Her voice faltered, but she forced the words out. "The god of light."

Serraphi threw her head back and let out a loud, almost mocking chuckle. The sound bounced off the walls, filling the dim space with a cruel edge. When she lowered her gaze back onto Aria, her smile was sharp.

"The god of light?" she repeated, her eyes glinting with amusement. "He doesn’t exist. He never did. We made him up."

Aria froze in place, her mouth falling open, but no words came.

"Yes," Serraphi continued, stepping closer now, her hands gesturing in emphasis. "We made up the stories, the sermons, the illusions. We told the people what they needed to hear—that their blessings came from a benevolent god watching over them. That their prayers mattered. That miracles were real. But all of it was smoke and mirrors. The truth is simpler."

She pointed toward the cage, where one of the vampires whimpered weakly, its eyes glowing like dying embers.

"It was always their blood. That is what gives us power."

Aria shook her head rapidly, as if denying the words could undo them.

"You’re fine telling me this? Why?" she demanded, her voice rising in pitch. "You don’t think I’ll expose what you’re doing here? That I won’t tell others?"

Serraphi’s lips curved into a smirk.

"Expose us? To who? To the people who kneel in our halls and believe every word we feed them? To the lords who walked away tonight instead of raising a hand against monsters? No one will believe you. And even if they did..." She paused, leaning forward just slightly, her eyes gleaming. "What would they do about it? Nothing."

Aria’s chest burned with outrage. She swung her arm toward the cage, pointing at the trembling figures inside. Her voice broke with fury.

"To children!" she shouted. "You’re doing this to children!"


Serraphi scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Children? Don’t be naive. They’re not children—they’re monsters. Their kind feeds on humans when they can’t control themselves. You know this. You’ve seen what vampires are capable of. Don’t let their faces fool you. If left alone, they would rip through villages without hesitation."

Aria’s stomach knotted as she turned to look back at the cage. The vampires were watching her now, their glowing eyes wide, their breaths ragged. They looked terrified, not monstrous. She pressed her lips together, fighting the nausea crawling up her throat.

Serraphi lifted her hand suddenly, and flames burst to life in her palm. The fire danced brightly, painting her face with sharp orange light and throwing shadows across the damp stone walls. She raised it high, her eyes burning with conviction.

"This," she said firmly, "is what their blood gives me. Fire to burn demons. Strength to fight when others cower. And you, Aria, could have the same."

Aria’s body stiffened.

"You’re saying... you want me to do the same ritual?"

"Yes," Serraphi replied without hesitation. "You’ve seen tonight how limited you are. Healing wounds is noble, but it will not protect you from monsters. It will not help you survive Zyren. If you agree, if you accept the ritual, you will gain real strength. Abilities that can destroy demons instead of just mending flesh."

Aria’s voice dropped, thick with disgust.

"No."

Serraphi’s smile faltered, but only briefly. She lowered the flame, her tone turning sharper.

"Don’t refuse so quickly. Think carefully. You’re already part of the temple whether you admit it or not. You’re already tied to us. We offer you freedom, Aria. Freedom and power. Or would you rather continue being the king’s pet?"

Aria’s jaw tightened. The words stung more than she wanted to admit, but the thought of joining Serraphi’s cruelty made bile rise in her throat. She turned her head, looking back at the cage. One of the youngest vampires—no older than twelve by appearance—reached a trembling hand through the bars, its thin fingers stretching as if begging for help.

"They’re children," Aria whispered, more to herself than to Serraphi.

"They are vampires," Serraphi corrected harshly.

Aria’s eyes hardened.

"They won’t survive after the ritual, will they?"

Serraphi’s silence was telling.

Aria stepped closer, her voice cutting through the quiet.

"How many? How many children are you using?"

Serraphi’s face stiffened. She avoided Aria’s gaze and pretended to study the fire still flickering faintly in her palm.

"That’s not important."

"It is," Aria shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "Tell me."

Serraphi pursed her lips, unwilling to answer, but Aria didn’t move. She simply stood there, her glare unrelenting, her chest rising and falling sharply with each breath. The silence stretched until Serraphi finally let out a sharp exhale.

"Dozens," she muttered.

The word hit Aria like a blow. Her knees weakened, and for a moment she thought she might collapse. She pressed her hand to her mouth, fighting the urge to gag.

"Dozens?" she repeated, horrified. "Dozens of children... drained for this?"

"Yes," Serraphi snapped, her patience thinning. "And it is necessary. Without sacrifice there is no power. Without power, demons would overrun us. Do you want to watch the world burn just because you can’t stomach reality?"

Aria shook her head violently, her hair whipping across her face.

"No. This is wrong. I won’t be part of it."

She spun on her heel and began to walk toward the stairs.

Serraphi’s voice rang out behind her, sharp and commanding.

"You’ll regret this, Aria! You think your healing will protect you when the Zygon monsters come again? When Zyren turns his eyes on you? You’ll be powerless. Weak. Helpless."

Aria didn’t stop. Her footsteps echoed with stubborn resolve, though her chest was tight and her stomach churned with sickness.

Serraphi’s tone shifted, more persuasive now, almost coaxing.

"We want the same thing—you and I. To defeat Zyren. To end his reign. But you cannot do that with light alone. You need fire. Ice. Weapons that kill. Healing commoners won’t save you when war comes."

Aria gritted her teeth, refusing to look back.

"Think carefully," Serraphi pressed, her voice echoing in the stairwell as Aria climbed. "The ritual is your only chance at survival. Without it, you’re nothing more than prey."

But Aria didn’t answer. She kept walking, her hands trembling at her sides, her thoughts racing so fast she could barely think straight. The image of the starving vampires burned into her mind, their red eyes pleading silently for mercy. Serraphi’s words echoed too, but Aria shoved them down, burying them under the pounding rhythm of her own heartbeat.

Each step she took away from that basement felt heavier, as though she carried the weight of what she’d seen on her shoulders. She didn’t know what would happen next, or how she could fight against what she had learned, but one truth had carved itself into her heart with painful clarity.

She would never accept Serraphi’s ritual. Not at that cost.