Chapter 529: Hold her for a little bit, I’m angry.

Kael remained motionless for a few seconds after confirming she was still alive, not out of indecision, but because he was precisely observing her condition, like someone who cannot afford to misread at that level. The absence of blood in her body was not merely an extreme physical condition; it was a functional annulment of everything that defined a vampire as a regenerative entity. What lay before them was not simply a tortured prisoner, but an organism kept on the brink of non-existence by deliberate, calculated, and, above all, effective means. There was no excessive violence there, no uncontrolled brutality; each mark, each point of fixation, each trace on the floor indicated a repeated, continuous, and conscious process. This was not done to extract information, nor to inflict pain as an end in itself. It was done to reduce.

Then he raised his hand.

There was no dramatic gesture, no visible accumulation of energy, no external sign announcing the action. Still, the chains that bound the Queen’s body began to react immediately, not being broken or torn away forcefully, but simply... yielding. The fastening points that pierced her limbs dissolved as if losing their function, releasing her gradually, in a controlled manner, almost too carefully for the context. There was no reason for brutality at that moment. Any unnecessary impact could be enough to end what little remained of her.

The body began to fall.

But it didn’t complete the movement.

Before gravity could finish what it started, the surrounding structure itself responded to Kael’s command, slowing the fall until it completely stopped. She didn’t float noticeably, there was no visible levitation; it was just a precise suspension, as if the concept of "falling" had been removed from the process. Then, her body was slowly pulled towards him, not like an object being moved, but like something being repositioned within a space that now obeyed a different logic.

When she finally got close enough, Kael held her.

Unceremoniously.

Without excessive care.

But also without carelessness.

The weight was less than it should have been, not from natural lightness, but from the absence of substance. The lack of blood had altered not only its vital state, but the very density of the body. Its muscles were retracted, its skin had a pallor that could no longer be called simple discoloration, and its breathing—if it still existed—was imperceptible to the naked eye. There was no visible chest movement, no clear sign of conventional biological activity.

It was a body that should have been dead.

But it wasn’t.

Exelia took a few steps closer, observing closely now, without averting her gaze, without softening what she saw. She had witnessed countless states of damage, had already inflicted and suffered extreme levels of violence, but this did not fit into the same category. It was not the result of a confrontation, nor of conventional torture. It was the result of a specific method, applied with a deep understanding of the victim’s nature.

"How did this happen...?" she asked, her voice lower than before, not out of hesitation, but because the scene itself demanded that tone. "Theoretically... she should be strong enough to withstand any kind of torture."

Kael didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes were still on her, not searching for superficial signs, but trying to identify any pattern that would justify the persistence of that state. The silence wasn’t a lack of response. It was verification.

And then he spoke.

"This wasn’t about enduring."

His voice came out calm, without emotional weight, but absolutely direct.

He slightly adjusted the position of her body in his arms, ensuring that no unnecessary pressure was applied to already compromised points, not out of empathy, but for functionality. Any additional damage could compromise the only thing that still mattered there: continuity.

"They took her blood."

The sentence carried no dramatic weight.

It was simply a fact.

"Everything." Exelia kept her gaze fixed, absorbing the information not as a surprise, but as a logical fit with what was before her.

Kael continued, without changing his tone.

"A vampire doesn’t regenerate without blood. No matter the level, no matter the length of existence, no matter how stable the internal structure. Without blood... there is no recourse."

He paused briefly, not to emphasize, but because there was no need to continue immediately.

"They didn’t prevent her from healing."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"They removed the possibility."

Exelia exhaled a small breath through her nose, almost imperceptible, but enough to indicate understanding.

"So this here..." she made a slight gesture with her chin towards the body, "...isn’t resistance."

Kael answered without hesitation.

"No."

Another pause.

Short.

"It’s forced maintenance."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.

But it wasn’t neutral either.

Because there was an unresolved issue there, something that didn’t quite fit the presented logic.

Exelia was the first to speak.

"Then how is she still alive?"

The question wasn’t rhetorical.

It was direct.

And, this time, Kael didn’t answer immediately because... there wasn’t a simple answer.

His eyes scanned the body again, now with a different focus, not looking for signs of damage, but of sustenance. Something there still kept the structure active, even at the lowest possible level. It wasn’t blood. It wasn’t evident energy. There was no perceptible flow.

But there was still... continuity.

"I don’t know."

The answer came without hesitation.

Without attempting to soften the blow.

Without constructing an incomplete hypothesis just to fill the void.

"She shouldn’t be."

He slightly adjusted the position of his hand, keeping his body steady.

"With this level of drainage, the natural process would be complete collapse. Not slow. Not progressive."

His eyes fixed on her face.

"Immediate."

Exelia remained silent for a moment.

Then she spoke again.

"But it didn’t happen."

"No."

Another pause.

A longer one this time.

The surrounding environment seemed even emptier now, not from the absence of sound, but because everything that mattered was concentrated on that point.

Kael finally looked away for a brief second, not to search for something new, but to organize his next step. The analysis had already been done. Her condition was as clear as could be.

Now all that remained was... to act.

"That means someone wanted to keep her like this."

The conclusion was simple.

Direct.

Exelia didn’t question it.

"Neither dead nor functional."

Kael nodded slightly.

"Exactly."

He took a small step back, adjusting his body position in his arms, not out of difficulty, but out of preparation. Staying there wouldn’t yield any new relevant information. What needed to be done wouldn’t happen in that environment.

"And that also means that whatever they’re doing with her blood... isn’t finished yet."

Exelia crossed her arms slowly, looking once more at the Queen’s condition before shifting her gaze to Kael.

"So she’s just a source now."

Kael replied without hesitation.

"Was."

A pause.

Short.

"Now she’s a variable beyond their control." Silence returned, but this time it carried no analysis.

It carried decision.

Kael didn’t look again at the chains, nor at the floor covered in dried blood, nor at the marks on the walls. Nothing there needed further evaluation.

Everything had already been understood.

He simply turned his body towards the exit of the chamber.

"Let’s get her out of here."

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Nor an order.

It was simply the next logical step.

And, in that state—

It was all that remained to be done.

Kael said nothing more after making the decision. He simply began to walk, carrying the Queen’s body in his arms with the same controlled firmness with which he performed any other action. There was no apparent urgency in his steps, but there was also no hesitation. Each movement was direct, functional, as if he had already discarded any unnecessary variable and was simply following the only viable path from there. Exelia walked alongside, keeping pace without needing to adjust speed, her eyes still briefly returning to the Queen’s state as they walked, as if trying to fix every detail of that extreme condition in her memory.

The ascent of the stairs was quieter than the descent. Not because anything had structurally changed in the environment, but because now there was a different weight being carried. Not physical, although that was also abnormally present, but a weight of context. The Queen’s presence, even reduced to that almost nonexistent state, altered the reading of everything around them. It ceased to be just an infiltration or a recovery. It became confirmation that something bigger was underway, something that didn’t end there.

The footsteps echoed dryly against the ancient stone as they climbed, the constant sound, without variation, filling the narrow space of the staircase. There were no interruptions, no sign of movement coming from above, no noise indicating preparation or imminent ambush. That, in itself, was already an indication.

Exelia was the first to notice.

"Too quiet," she said, without slowing her pace, her eyes fixed on the top of the stairs.

Kael didn’t answer.

But he noticed.

And that was enough.

They reached the last step.

And crossed the boundary between the dungeon and the upper level.

The hall was no longer empty.

The change was immediate.

There was no time for adaptation, no gradual transition. The space that had previously been under the absolute control of the shadow knights now presented a new variable—a massive, organized, positioned presence.

An army.

The vampires occupied the entire hall, distributed in wide rows, filling every open area with precision. They weren’t scattered, nor acting chaotically. There was order there. Structure. They weren’t waiting by chance. They were positioned.

Varied armor, some older, some newer, weapons in hand, individual presences that, in any other context, would already be considerable threats. But there, gathered together, they formed something different.

Collective.

And focused.

Everyone was looking at them.

At Kael.

At the body in his arms.

The shadow knights remained in their positions, motionless, silent, but now they were no longer the sole control over the environment. There was a clear division of dominance in that space.

Exelia stopped beside him.

Not out of hesitation.

But to assess.

Her gaze quickly swept across the rows, counting, measuring distances, identifying patterns of positioning. There was no room for doubt—this wasn’t improvised.

They knew.

Kael also stopped.

His eyes scanned the hall once.

Without haste.

Without apparent tension.

The reading was immediate.

He let out a sigh.

Low.

Controlled.

But real.

"..."

The silence that followed didn’t come from the environment.

It came from him.

And that was more significant than any aggressive reaction.

He then tilted his head slightly to the side, like someone internally confirming something before acting.

"Hold her for a little bit," he said, his voice calm, but with a slight weariness that hadn’t been present before. "I’m starting to get nervous."