The Bloodline's Harvest
Act 1: The Surge The ritual knife didn't slip; it carved with a precision that felt guided by an unseen hand. Silas watched as the first drop of his own blood hit the obsidian altar, sparking a flare of violet fire that illuminated the rotting velvet curtains of the manor's library. The air in the room grew thick, smelling of stagnant swamp water and ancient, wet earth. For three generations,...
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