Yeming: Blood Chronicle

The Invitation

Just then, the carriage door slid open.

Two men dressed in black stepped inside.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Claire’s body went rigid.

A strange scent drifted through the carriage, rich and untamed, carrying the unmistakable presence of a predator. Her blood stirred at once, heat spreading through her veins as though something buried deep within her had suddenly opened its eyes.

The Wolf Clan.

Her fingers tightened instinctively around the ancient book.

The two men walked past without a word. When they were only a few steps away, one of them stopped. His dark golden eyes settled on Claire, his brow drawing together ever so slightly, as if he had sensed something that shouldn’t have existed.

“…That aura.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

The weight of his gaze made Claire feel as though every secret hidden within her blood was being stripped bare. An invisible pressure descended upon her, crushing the air from her lungs. Breathing became difficult. Her heartbeat quickened, and the blood coursing through her veins began to burn.

The man didn’t look away.

His eyes seemed determined to pierce through the calm surface she struggled to maintain and uncover whatever lay dormant inside her.

Then—

Claire’s heart skipped a beat.

An instinct screamed within her that if she allowed him to keep looking, the secret she had carried for the past three months would be exposed.

A wave of scorching heat erupted from somewhere deep inside her. The blood surging through her veins suddenly became violent, as though another instinct had awakened to resist the invisible intrusion.

The man’s expression changed.

His pupils contracted sharply.

He staggered back half a step, one hand flying to his chest as his breathing turned ragged.

A mouthful of fresh blood spilled onto the floor.

His companion caught him before he collapsed. For a brief moment, both of them stared at Claire once more, but the suspicion in their eyes had been replaced by something else.

Wariness.

Without another word, they turned and left the carriage.

Only after the door slid shut behind them did the crushing pressure finally disappear. Claire released a slow, shaky breath and pressed a hand against her chest. The heat still lingered beneath her skin, fading little by little, like a sleeping power that had awakened for only an instant before sinking back into silence.

“You alright?”

Julian’s voice drew her back to reality.

Claire shook her head gently.

“I… don’t know.”

Julian glanced toward the closed carriage door before looking back at her. The familiar smile still rested on his face, though his eyes had grown noticeably more thoughtful.

“Did you do something to them?”

Claire let out a quiet, helpless laugh.

“If I knew, I probably wouldn’t still be sitting here.”

A soft chuckle escaped Julian.

“Fair point.”

The tension between them eased, but only slightly.

Claire stared toward the door the two Wolf Clan members had disappeared through, unease still lingering in the back of her mind.

“Do you think they’ll come back?”

“I doubt it.” Julian rested his chin on one hand, his gaze drifting toward the darkness outside the window. “This is Yeming Academy’s train. No one wants to start trouble before the entrance ceremony.”

Claire hesitated before asking, “Do the Wolf Clan and vampires really hate each other that much?”

“Not exactly.” Julian smiled faintly. “Let’s just say they’ve never been particularly fond of one another. A little friction is hardly unusual.”

Claire nodded.

She had read those words countless times in the old books.

Tonight was the first time she had truly understood what they meant.

The train gradually began to slow.

Beyond the window, the thick veil of mist slowly parted, revealing a pair of towering black iron gates standing silently beneath the night sky.

“Our next stop… Yeming Academy.”

The announcement echoed softly through the carriage.

Claire lifted her eyes.

Beyond the gates rose countless ancient stone buildings, their Gothic towers piercing the night while warm lights shimmered through tall glass windows. They stood alongside sleek modern structures, blending centuries of history with the present in a way that felt strangely natural. Students moved along the white stone pathways beneath floating lanterns, their quiet conversations carried through the evening breeze. From a distance, it looked no different from an ordinary university campus.

Until she looked closer. Every face carried a different aura. Some were cold enough to freeze the air.

Others radiated an overwhelming vitality.

For the first time since her awakening, Claire found herself standing in a place where humans were no longer the majority.

She had finally arrived.

Julian rose to his feet. “Come on. The registration hall is this way.”

Claire followed him off the train.

Beyond the station, towering black iron gates marked the entrance to Yeming Academy. Instead of the isolated castle she had imagined, an enormous campus stretched beneath the moonlight. Ancient stone buildings stood alongside modern structures, while students in academy uniforms crossed the white stone paths in small groups. At first glance, they looked no different from ordinary college students. Yet every one of them carried a distinct aura that reminded Claire she had stepped into an entirely different world.

After crossing the central square, Julian stopped before a three-story stone building.

“This is the registration hall.”

Just as Claire was about to go inside, Julian took out his phone with a smile.

“Let’s exchange contacts. If you ever need help, just let me know.”

Claire hesitated for a moment before scanning his contact code.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you around.”

With a casual wave, Julian disappeared into the crowd.

The registration process was quicker than Claire expected. After handing over her admission letter, she received a student ID card and a dormitory key.

“Claire Ashford. Dormitory D-217.”

The silver card bore a crescent moon embracing a drop of crimson blood. Beneath the emblem was a single letter.

Class D.

Leaving the registration hall, Claire unfolded the campus map and headed toward the western dormitories. As she passed through the central square, an enormous stone monument caught her attention.

The Academy Rankings.

Hundreds of names were engraved beneath ancient silver inscriptions, each accompanied by a class and a score. The students at the top had accumulated points so high that the gap between them and the freshmen seemed almost impossible to bridge.

Claire looked at the ranking for a few seconds before quietly walking on.

At Yeming Academy, strength wasn’t just respected.

It defined everything.