Magic Blood Warrior

A Purple Crescent Moon hung high in the sky, casting threads of violet light like a sheer, purple curtain, imbuing the world with an air of mystery.Within this purple glow stood a sturdy castle of white stone, sharp-spired, imposing, grand, and rugged.On the third-floor balcony of this castle, a young man with black hair stood gazing blankly at the purple crescent moon in the night sky, a bitter smile touching his lips.He looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, with short black hair and delicate features still bearing traces of youthfulness. Yet, within his pair of sapphire-blue eyes lay a depth uncommon for his age.A cool breeze swept by, bringing a slight chill. He shivered involuntarily.Tap, tap, tap!Urgent footsteps approached from behind. The black-haired youth turned to see, illuminated by the castle's interior lights, a young woman wearing a black dress and a white apron.She was tall and slender, with fair skin and chestnut hair pinned up with a clip, adorned with a white bow. It was the standard attire of a maid.In her hands, she held a white-feathered cloak, her face etched with worry. Seeing the youth on the balcony, she let out a soft sigh of relief and spoke."Young Master Gray, your injuries haven't fully healed yet. You shouldn't be out in the wind."As she spoke, she stepped forward and gently draped the white-feathered cloak over his shoulders.When her hand touched him, the young man's body tensed slightly, then relaxed. He glanced once more at the Purple Moon outside before replying."I'll go back now."The maid moved to support him, but he waved her off and walked through the stone passageway back into the brightly lit castle interior.The young man's name was Gray Fergus, one of the children of Viscount Fergus, the master of this castle. At least, that was his current identity. In truth, just a few days ago, he had been an ordinary office worker.It had been a perfectly normal night, no different from any other after a long day of work.But when he awoke, he found himself not in his cramped rented room, but in a spacious bedroom with a downy white feather quilt. The body wasn't his own, and it came with a flood of unfamiliar memories.Honestly, he had felt a flicker of excitement about this sudden change at first.A noble's son, served by maids, clothes handed to him, food brought to his mouth… it matched the life he had once fantasized about perfectly.However, after the initial excitement faded, a deep depression settled in. He missed his parents, his friends, his phone with constant internet access… Most importantly, he realized this sudden "comfortable life" wasn't truly comfortable at all.Firstly, there was his status as the Viscount's "child."Regarding marriage, this world, like medieval Europe, strictly adhered to monogamy. Even the King was no exception, though he might have numerous mistresses.Gray's current identity was that of a b*st*rd son. That meant he was not born to the Viscount and his lawful wife, but to the Viscount and his mistress.In a world with such strict monogamous values, the status of a b*st*rd wasn't quite as low as a servant, but it was far from good. It certainly couldn't compare to the treatment afforded to the children born to the Viscount and his wife.In fact, for the past sixteen years, Viscount Fergus had paid little attention to this "son" of his. It was only two months ago that he had been brought to the castle.Secondly, he was currently facing a "life-threatening crisis."The original owner of this body had died by assassination. Although the assassin had been caught, he had swallowed poison before interrogation. The mastermind behind the plot remained hidden. This meant a shadowy hand was still lurking, coveting his life.Facing such a mortal threat, even surrounded by beautiful maids tending to his needs, he found it impossible to enjoy it – unless one was exceptionally thick-skinned, which he clearly wasn't.Thirdly, there was the risk of exposure.In this world, there existed a mysterious power known as "Blood Power." The original owner of this body had trained in it and possessed considerable talent.He had started training at fifteen and, within just one year, cultivated his "Blood Power," becoming a lower-rank Blood Warrior. This feat had even earned him a second glance from his previously indifferent Viscount father, leading to his invitation to the castle.However, whether due to the assassination attempt or the inexplicable reason for Gray's transmigration, this Blood Power had vanished.Yes, vanished. Meaning he was now a "fake" lower-rank Blood Warrior.One could imagine how the Viscount Fergus's attitude would change if he discovered Gray's Blood Power was gone. He might immediately cast him out of the castle, and his treatment could be worse than before he arrived.So, while his current life seemed pleasant – served by maids, free from hunger or thirst – it was, in reality, fraught with "perilous crises." He could be expelled from the castle or even lose his life at any moment.Pushing open the door to his bedroom, Gray entered.The spacious room, over twenty square meters, was dominated by a row of long cabinets: one for formal wear, one for everyday clothes, and a shoe cabinet.The formal wear cabinet held two sets of elegant attire adorned with decorative feathers on the shoulders. The everyday clothes cabinet contained five sets of relatively plain but clearly high-quality garments. The shoe cabinet held three pairs of brand-new leather boots.All of these had been provided after his arrival at the castle. Before coming here, he hadn't starved, but he certainly couldn't have afforded such fine clothes or boots. In fact, even the pretty personal maid who now attended him had been assigned to him only two months ago when he arrived.Against one wall was a large bed covered with a white down feather quilt, spacious enough for two or three people. Near the window stood a desk with a high-backed chair.On the desk was an oil lamp enclosed by a glass chimney with an opening at the top, casting a soft glow. It was the source of light illuminating the entire room. The oil seemed to contain some kind of incense, filling the air with a faint, sweet fragrance."Brother, where did you go?"Seeing Gray enter, a young girl of about fourteen, dressed in a white gauze dress, jumped down from the high-backed chair near the desk. She darted over in two or three quick steps and tightly wrapped her arms around one of Gray's.The girl had exquisite features and rosy, fair skin. Like Gray, she had black hair and blue eyes. Seeing Gray safe, her expression relaxed with relief.Her name was Sarah Fergus. She was Gray's sister, sharing the same father and mother. They inherited their black hair from their melancholic, deceased mother and their blue eyes from Viscount Fergus.Like the original owner of his body, she had also been brought to the castle just two months prior. Clearly, her invitation had likely been a consequence of her brother – Gray – being recognized and valued.Hesitating slightly, Gray reached out with his free hand and gently patted her head. "I just stepped out to the balcony for some air."Being embraced so familiarly by a girl who was essentially a stranger made Gray uncomfortable. He wasn't her brother anymore."What's wrong?""Nothing," Sarah shook her head, her grip still tight on his arm. "I just couldn't find you and got worried. I was afraid... afraid you might encounter another assassin!""Don't worry," Gray reassured her with a smile. "This is the castle. An assassin couldn't sneak in here.""But... they—" Sarah's worried expression didn't fade with his words."Alright, that's enough," Gray cut her off firmly. Certain things couldn't be spoken aloud, especially not within the castle walls.Even now, his chest was bandaged, throbbing faintly with pain – the assassin's parting gift. The blow had been meant to kill. If not for the swift protection of the Viscount's guards, he wouldn't have had the chance to possess this body. A pierced heart would have meant death regardless.Both he and Sarah harbored suspicions about the "they" behind the assassin.For the past 15 years, the original owner had lived outside the castle, unprotected by guards, yet had never once been targeted. Yet, almost immediately after moving into the castle, he had been attacked. Clearly, the assassination attempt was intrinsically linked to his arrival at the Viscount's residence.And who would be most displeased by his arrival? Undoubtedly, the Viscountess and the two brothers and one sister she had borne the Viscount. Gray strongly suspected the hidden hand belonged to one of them, or perhaps all four were involved.This meant he was likely living under the same roof as the person – or persons – who wanted him dead, constantly observed by their murderous gaze. The thought sent a chill of dread through him.He could think of no way back to his original world. Even if one existed, it was surely beyond the reach of a mere Viscount's b*st*rd son.Since returning seemed impossible, his only option was to survive in this world. And the mastermind behind the assassin clearly didn't want him to survive.He didn't know if dying a second time would grant him another chance to possess a body, but he absolutely had no intention of testing that theory.I must recover from my injuries as quickly as possible and start training. I need to confirm if the Blood Power is truly gone, or if it's just temporarily dormant because of the injury, Gray resolved silently.Relying solely on the protection of the castle guards against this hidden threat was insufficient. The only way forward now was to rapidly increase his own strength, to gain the power to protect himself.Moreover, if the worst-case scenario proved true and his Blood Power had indeed vanished, he had to find a way to cultivate it anew. He had to regain it before Viscount Fergus noticed its absence.The Viscount's favor was his only current "protective umbrella." If he lost that, his situation would become infinitely more perilous.He could be expelled from the castle immediately. And once outside, the hidden mastermind would find it all too easy to seize an opportunity to finish the job. Therefore, he absolutely could not afford to lose the Viscount's "favor" now.