Morning had settled over Tuscany by the time Noctis left Volterra behind him, though the city's pale stone towers remained visible for several minutes whenever the road bent high enough to expose them between the hills. He moved through the long shadows cast by cypress trees, old walls, and roadside buildings, using Wraith Step whenever the sunlight opened too much ground between him and the next stretch of cover. The sun no longer mattered to him in the way it mattered to every vampire he had left beneath Palazzo dei Priori, but the movement skill remained more convenient than taking public roads or allowing cameras to collect footage of a stranger crossing thirty meters in the space between two breaths.
The countryside was quieter than it had been during his first approach to Volterra. Farmhouse doors stood open now, and people moved through the early routines of the day with buckets, tools, coffee cups, and children who had not yet grown tired of asking questions. A delivery truck passed along one of the lower roads, its tires hissing over damp pavement, while the vineyards on either side held the soft sheen of rainwater beneath the rising sun. Noctis crossed behind a low stone wall, waited until the driver's attention passed, and stepped through the strip of shadow cast by an olive grove before appearing farther down the hillside.
The entire route back toward Palazzo Serafine took less time than it should have. He had no reason to return through Volterra's public streets, no need to stop for food, and no desire to remain close to the underground court after taking what he came for. The Volturi had been entertaining for a few minutes in the same way an old movie became entertaining when watched with enough distance, but reality had made the experience worse rather than better. Seeing Aro's smile from a few steps away, hearing Caius rage at being ignored, and watching familiar faces react according to a plot he had already watched had created an irritation he could not explain without making it sound absurd.
He reached the outer grounds of the hotel shortly after the morning staff had begun opening the dining areas for human guests. Palazzo Serafine looked more innocent in daylight than it had during the night, its pale stone walls bright beneath the sun, its terraces lined with flowering planters, and its courtyard alive with the sounds of dishes, voices, and luggage wheels crossing polished stone. The private vampire wing remained quiet behind sealed shutters and heavily shaded windows, but the public side had resumed its ordinary rhythm without any awareness that one of its guests had spent the night walking through the headquarters of the Volturi.
Noctis entered through the side route rather than the broad front entrance. The hotel staff near the courtyard recognized him immediately, though their expressions remained professionally neutral as they stepped aside and offered restrained greetings. He wore the deep burgundy suit created by Crimson Arsenal, the dark shirt open at the collar, the fabric immaculate despite the vault, the underground corridors, and the several blood-forged weapons he had shaped before leaving Volterra.
A young attendant near the private elevator glanced at him twice before lowering her eyes, clearly trying to decide whether she should ask if he needed anything. Noctis avoided giving her the chance. He passed through the elevator lobby, used the key card Vivienne had arranged, and let the doors close before the hotel staff could offer breakfast, transport, or explanations for where he had been since the previous evening.
The upper private floor remained dim behind blackout glass and thick interior curtains. No sunlight reached the corridor except for thin lines of pale gold beneath the edge of the terrace shutters, and the deep quiet of the wing differed from the ordinary stillness of a luxury hotel. Vampires slept differently from humans. Their bodies could remain completely still for long periods, their breathing barely audible, their presence fading into the rooms around them until only the faintest awareness of blood and life remained.
Noctis stopped outside the suite Vivienne had reserved and looked once at the card in his hand before opening the door. The interior was dark except for the muted glow of the hotel's concealed floor lighting, which had been left low enough to keep the rooms navigable without disturbing a vampire's daytime rest. Her travel folder lay open on the table near the lounge, several pages shifted out of place as though she had reviewed the itinerary again after he left. A wine glass sat untouched near the edge of the counter, and one of the suite's extra room keys rested beside it.
He moved farther inside without making a sound.
The main bedroom door stood partially open. Vivienne lay beneath the sheets in the center of the large bed, one arm resting loosely across the blanket while her dark hair spread across the pillow in soft waves. She looked composed even in sleep, perhaps more composed than she had been during the flight, when every attempt to get closer to him had ended with him responding as though she had presented a logistical inconvenience rather than flirtation.
The room smelled faintly of her perfume, old wine, linen, and the subtle metallic trace that clung to every vampire no matter how expensive the room around them became. Her heartbeat was slow and quiet beneath Sense Pulse, though it remained steady enough to reassure him that nothing had happened in his absence. The blackout curtains had been drawn completely, leaving the suite separated from the daylight outside by layers of cloth, treated glass, and the ordinary limitations that still governed a normal vampire.
Noctis stood in the doorway for a moment longer than necessary.
Vivienne had arranged his flight, his documents, the hotel, the vehicle, and the access that had allowed him to move through Italy without wasting time on human systems. She had also waited for him after he left, at least until daylight had made the choice for her. Her body required rest now because she remained a vampire in the ordinary sense of the word. She could not simply ignore the sun, cross a holy ward, or remain active indefinitely because she had decided proximity to him was worth the trouble.
He gave a quiet sigh.
Vivienne was still useful, but she was also still bound by the limits of her species. Waking her would accomplish nothing except create an argument about why he was leaving again and whether she should come along. She would probably insist that Vatican City was more dangerous than Volterra, then attempt to claim that the suite, the driver, and whatever transport she could arrange were all necessary reasons for her to follow him.
Noctis had no interest in having that conversation beside a bed while she was half-awake.
His eyes briefly shifted toward the crimson current of blood space resting beneath his control. Inside it, four newly acquired relics lay separated from the sealed gemstone and the other items he had taken from the Volturi vault. The gold bracelet with ruby inlays rested alongside its matching earrings, ring, and anklet, all of them waiting for the moment he decided whether Vivienne's reward would remain jewelry or become part of a more useful experiment.
He did not take the bracelet out.
Giving someone a gift while they were unconscious felt pointless, and he wanted to inspect the best way to infuse it with his blood aura before placing it on anyone else. The sealed gemstone beneath Volterra had offered a possible answer to an interesting question, but he had no reason to rush an experiment involving another vampire's evolution because the subject happened to be asleep nearby.
Noctis turned away from the bedroom.
The suite door closed quietly behind him, and he returned to the elevator without leaving a note. Vivienne would wake eventually and discover that he had returned, checked on her, and left again without waking her. She would likely be annoyed. She would also survive the annoyance.
The public lobby had become busier by the time he descended. Human guests moved between the breakfast area and the front doors, some dressed for day trips through the Tuscan hills while others stood near the concierge desk discussing reservations, wine tastings, and private tours. Morning sunlight crossed the marble floor in broad rectangles from the high windows, and the hotel's staff moved through the bright space with the practiced ease of people trained to make expensive service look effortless.
Noctis approached the front desk.
The receptionist on duty was a young human woman with auburn hair pulled neatly behind her shoulders and a dark hotel uniform fitted with a small gold nameplate. She had been focused on a computer screen when he arrived, one hand resting beside a printed schedule, but her attention stopped the moment she looked up.
For a second, she simply stared.
Noctis had seen the reaction before. It was not only the silver-white hair, the crimson eyes, or the tailored burgundy suit that stood out in a morning hotel lobby. It was the way his presence seemed too composed for the space around him, as though he belonged somewhere more carefully designed than a reception desk, a breakfast buffet, and a group of tourists arguing over whether their rental car could fit through the narrow roads leading toward San Gimignano.
The receptionist's cheeks warmed visibly. She blinked once, then looked down at the computer before looking back up again as if she had forgotten why she was sitting there. "Good morning, sir," she said, though the greeting came a second later than it should have. "I, um… I hope your stay has been—"
"What is the fastest way to Rome from here?" Noctis asked.
The question should have been simple. The receptionist opened her mouth, glanced at the schedule on her desk, then seemed to lose the structure of her answer halfway through forming it. "Rome is… there are trains, but you would need to travel toward the station first, and there may be flights from Pisa, though that might take longer depending on timing, and there are private cars, of course, which the concierge can arrange, but…"
Noctis listened through the first part of the answer before letting out a quiet breath.
The woman had become more flustered than helpful. Her hands hovered over the desk as if she wanted to type something, but she had not yet remembered what she was supposed to search for. Several people waited a short distance away with luggage, and one of the hotel attendants glanced toward the desk with the polite concern of someone who could see that the receptionist was losing control of a basic conversation.
Noctis met her eyes.
Binding Stare moved through the brief connection without spectacle. His crimson gaze held hers for a moment, and the warmth in her cheeks faded as the distracted confusion drained from her expression. Her shoulders settled, her breathing evened out, and the automatic nervousness that had tangled her words simply disappeared beneath a quiet compulsion to focus on the question in front of her.
Noctis asked again, "What is the fastest way to Rome from this hotel?"
The receptionist straightened immediately. "A private car is the fastest option, sir," she answered in a clear, professional voice. "The normal drive is around three and a half hours depending on traffic, road conditions, and the route used. The concierge can arrange a long-distance vehicle with a driver, fuel, toll coverage, and temporary accommodation if you want the driver to remain available after arrival."
"Arrange the concierge."
"Yes, sir."
The receptionist stepped away from her desk without hesitation and moved around the counter to lead him toward the guest-services lounge on the far side of the lobby. A few hotel guests looked after them briefly, perhaps surprised to see the receptionist personally escorting one person away from the desk, but no one commented. The woman's focus remained fixed on helping Noctis reach the concierge quickly, and she did not seem to remember why the sight of him had made her forget how to answer a simple question.
The concierge area occupied a quieter section of the hotel near a private lounge, where soft leather chairs, low tables, and shelves of local guides created the impression that wealthy guests might simply settle there to plan their day. The actual function of the desk was more practical. It was where the hotel arranged drivers, private security, restaurant access, airport transfers, tours, medical assistance, special dietary requirements, and the quiet inconveniences that guests with enough money preferred not to solve themselves.
The concierge on duty was another human woman, older than the receptionist and dressed in a darker uniform with a silver hotel pin at her collar. She had been speaking into a headset while reviewing a list of bookings when the front-desk receptionist approached with Noctis. She ended the call politely, turned to greet the new guest, and then stopped as soon as she saw him.
Her pause was more controlled than the receptionist's had been, but it still existed.
The woman's eyes moved from Noctis's face to the burgundy suit, then back to his eyes, and for a moment her professional greeting became caught behind the surprise of seeing someone who looked too striking to be standing in front of an ordinary concierge desk. She recovered quickly enough to begin, "Welcome, sir. How may I…"
Her sentence softened near the end as if she had forgotten how the usual wording continued.
Noctis did not wait for the same conversation to repeat itself.
Binding Stare settled over her before the hesitation could become another useless delay. The woman's posture straightened, the faint flush at her face disappeared, and her attention became precise and practical.
"I need transportation to Rome," Noctis said. "A luxury SUV. A driver who knows the route. No guided stops, no extra security, and no unnecessary questions. The driver remains available until I dismiss him."
The concierge nodded. "A Range Rover is available through one of our contracted services, sir. It can be prepared for long-distance travel and arrive within the hour. The driver can remain on call in Rome or return to the hotel if you no longer require the vehicle."
Noctis removed the credit card Vivienne had given him from the inner pocket of his suit and placed it on the desk. The concierge accepted it without a glance at the name, processed the arrangement through the hotel's system, and confirmed the cost, route, estimated travel time, and driver availability in the same steady voice.
"Your vehicle will be ready in approximately one hour," she said after checking the final screen. "The driver will meet you at the private entrance. The route can be adjusted if you wish to stop before Rome, but without significant delays the drive should take around three and a half hours."
"That is fine."
The concierge returned the card. The receptionist who had escorted him remained nearby, apparently waiting to ensure there was nothing else he needed, but Noctis only gave a brief nod before turning away from the desk. The hotel staff watched him leave the lounge with the quiet concentration people used around someone they had decided was important without knowing why.
He spent the next hour in a shaded section of the lower terrace, where a covered canopy and thick climbing vines kept the direct sunlight from reaching the seating area. Human guests ate breakfast farther away, their conversations blending into a dull background of cutlery, coffee cups, laughter, and travel plans. The hotel garden looked peaceful in daylight, with trimmed hedges, pale stone paths, and cypress shadows stretching across the wet grass.
Noctis sat in one of the terrace chairs and rested an arm along its side.
The four relics inside blood space remained quiet. The ring, dagger, glove fragment, and sealed gem had not reacted since he removed them from the Volturi vault. He could inspect them here, perhaps use Omni Eyes again to study the sealed gem's leak more closely, but the hotel was not the place for it. Vivienne slept above him, the staff moved through the courtyard, and even the shaded terrace held enough human eyes that opening blood space or drawing out an ancient artifact would create more attention than he wanted.
Instead, he watched the hotel wake around him.
A waiter carried a tray of coffee toward a table near the garden wall. A child chased a small bird across the grass until the bird lifted over the hedge and disappeared into the sunlight. Two elderly guests argued gently about whether they should spend the afternoon in Florence or stay closer to Volterra, and the hotel manager walked through the courtyard speaking into a phone with the controlled calm of someone solving three expensive problems at once.
The ordinary details did not bother Noctis.
After the Volturi's underground court, the simplicity of a hotel breakfast felt almost useful. No one here believed they ruled the world. No one had hidden a sealed relic beneath their city and mistaken passive energy leakage for proof of bloodline superiority. No one was discussing whether another family's powers should be collected and placed beneath a throne.
A black Range Rover arrived at the private entrance just before the hour ended.
The vehicle was clean, high-end, and built for distance rather than display, its dark exterior reflecting the morning sky and the pale stone walls of the hotel. A middle-aged driver in a charcoal suit stepped out from the front seat and spoke briefly with the concierge before walking toward Noctis. He carried himself with the polite reserve of someone who drove wealthy guests often enough to understand that good service meant noticing details without appearing to notice anything at all.
"Mr. Takahashi?" the driver asked.
Noctis stood. "Yes."
"My name is Matteo. I will be driving you to Rome." Matteo opened the rear door and glanced toward the hotel staff as a porter moved to place a small bottle of water and a travel packet inside. "The concierge has given me the route and the instruction that I remain available after arrival unless you tell me otherwise."
"Good."
Noctis entered the rear seat.
The interior was cooler than the morning outside, with dark leather, tinted windows, soft ambient lighting, and enough space for him to recline without feeling trapped by the vehicle's design. A small compartment held bottled water, snacks, napkins, and charging cables, while the road noise became almost nonexistent once Matteo pulled away from the hotel entrance and guided the Range Rover through the narrow roads leading away from Palazzo Serafine.
Before settling back, Noctis leaned slightly toward the space between the front seats. "Do not wake me unless it is an emergency."
Matteo checked the rearview mirror. "Understood, sir."
Noctis reclined the seat and closed his eyes.
Matteo assumed his passenger was tired. It was a reasonable conclusion. The man had been out all night, returned to the hotel only briefly, arranged a long-distance drive without waiting for daylight to end, and now seemed prepared to sleep through most of the route toward Rome. The driver did not know that Noctis had spent the previous night walking through the Volturi's headquarters, breaking its elite guard, taking four relics from its vault, and leaving beneath the morning sun without suffering the weakness every vampire in Volterra accepted as inevitable.
He also did not know that Noctis did not need sleep.
The body Noctis inhabited had moved beyond ordinary human exhaustion long ago. His bloodline could continue through battle, travel, hunger, pain, and power without requiring the kind of rest that forced humans to stop. Even his vampire side could remain active through conditions that would leave normal nocturnal beings exhausted, wounded, or unable to move beneath the sun.
Yet he still chose to sleep.
Some part of him remained unwilling to lose the small human habits that had once defined ordinary life. Sleep was not a weakness to him. It was one of the few things he could still choose simply because he wanted the quiet of it, the absence of constant awareness, the sense of closing his eyes and allowing the world to continue without needing him to control every detail.
The Range Rover traveled south through the Tuscan countryside while Noctis remained still in the back seat.
Matteo took the broader roads first, moving past vineyards, olive groves, small villages, and the low stone walls that divided the hills into old family properties. The landscape shifted gradually as the vehicle joined larger routes, the quiet roads near Volterra giving way to more regular traffic, toll stations, commercial stops, and long stretches of highway where trucks and private cars moved south in steady lines.
At the first fuel stop, Matteo pulled into a service station and checked the rearview mirror before turning off the engine. Noctis had not moved. The driver stepped out quietly, filled the tank, bought coffee for himself, and returned to the vehicle without opening the rear door. When he resumed the drive, Noctis remained asleep, one hand resting loosely near the side of the seat, his expression more relaxed than it had been in any of the scenes Vivienne had witnessed since meeting him.
The second stop came later, after Matteo had been driving long enough to need food and a restroom break. He parked near a roadside restaurant where truck drivers, tourists, and local commuters moved through the entrance with trays and paper receipts. Before leaving the vehicle, Matteo looked back again, considering whether he should wake his passenger long enough to ask if he wanted anything.
Noctis had been explicit.
Unless it was an emergency, do not wake him.
Matteo left him alone.
The driver ate a quick meal, used the restroom, and returned to the Range Rover with another bottle of water placed carefully in the rear compartment. The passenger had not changed position. His breathing remained quiet and even, and the driver allowed himself a small smile before pulling back onto the highway. Wealthy clients often demanded privacy. They rarely trusted drivers enough to sleep through a long trip without waking at every stop.
Noctis slept through the changing landscape.
The roads grew busier as they neared central Italy. The hills became less isolated, more crowded with towns, exits, warehouses, roadside hotels, and traffic moving between Rome and the smaller cities around it. Matteo made one more brief stop because fatigue had begun settling into his shoulders, and he preferred losing ten minutes to risking a long-distance drive while tired. He kept the vehicle in shade, checked the route, and returned to the road before the passenger stirred.
The drive stretched longer than the concierge's estimate.
Without the stops, the trip might have been closer to three and a half hours. Fuel, food, restroom breaks, and a brief delay near heavier traffic extended it to four hours and ten minutes. Matteo noticed the time but did not apologize. He had followed the route responsibly, kept the vehicle comfortable, and honored Noctis's request not to wake him.
As the outer areas of Rome began appearing beyond the tinted windows, something changed in the back seat.
Noctis's eyes opened.
He did not wake slowly. There was no gradual shift, no tired blink, and no moment of disorientation. His crimson eyes opened fully, focused through the window, and settled toward the distant direction of Vatican City as though something had reached across the roads, buildings, and morning traffic to call his attention.
Holy energy.
It pressed against the edge of his senses in a way that differed from the residue left in churches, sanctums, fortresses, and holy relics. The energy near Vatican City was not scattered. It had been gathered, layered, refined, and built into a defensive structure over centuries. It was old enough to carry the weight of countless rites, prayers, rituals, sacrifices, relics, and sacred objects, but it was also organized with the precision of an active military formation.
Noctis sat upright.
Matteo noticed the movement in the rearview mirror. "Everything all right, sir?"
"Find somewhere to pull over," Noctis said.
Matteo glanced toward the road ahead. They were not near the main entrance of Vatican City, not near the familiar tourist routes, and not even close enough for the city-state's major structures to dominate the view. The outskirts of Rome spread around them in layered streets, low buildings, trees, old walls, and busy roads that gradually thickened toward the central districts.
"Here?" Matteo asked carefully. "We are still some distance away from the Vatican. I can take you closer."
"This is fine."
The driver hesitated, perhaps wondering whether Noctis had changed plans or received a message during sleep. "There is not much here, sir. You would be better off closer to the city center, unless you have someone meeting you."
"No one is meeting me."
Matteo found a quiet side road near an older section of stone walls and low residential buildings, then pulled the Range Rover into a safe area beside a row of trees. He turned slightly in his seat as Noctis reached for the door.
"What would you like me to do?" he asked. "Should I wait here?"
"Find somewhere to stay temporarily, or return toward the hotel. Keep the vehicle available until I contact you."
Matteo nodded, though the instruction clearly left him uncertain. "Of course. I can remain in the area if you prefer."
Noctis took out his phone. "Give me your number."
The driver recited it while Noctis entered the contact information, then took Noctis's number in return. The exchange was brief and practical, but Matteo still looked uneasy when Noctis opened the rear door and stepped out into the bright daylight.
"Mr. Takahashi," he said before Noctis could close the door, "are you sure you will be fine?"
Noctis looked back at him.
The driver's concern was genuine rather than performative. He had spent four hours driving a passenger who had slept without moving, refused food and rest stops, and now wanted to be dropped beside an unremarkable road outside the Vatican rather than delivered to a known hotel, restaurant, or business address.
"I'll be fine," Noctis said.
Then he shut the door and lifted one hand in a short dismissive wave. "Go."
Matteo remained still for another second before nodding and pulling away. The Range Rover joined the road again, its dark shape disappearing between the morning traffic and the pale stone buildings lining the route toward Rome.
Noctis stood alone.
The area around him was quieter than the major streets, though the city's presence remained impossible to miss. Traffic moved in the distance. A scooter passed along the nearby road, its engine whining briefly before fading behind a curve. Low walls marked the edges of old properties, and several lines of trees rose behind them, their leaves moving gently in the warm air.
The holy energy grew stronger each time Noctis let his awareness stretch toward the Vatican.
He looked around until he found a hill beyond the low stone wall, its upper ridge partially covered by trees and old brush. It offered enough elevation to see farther across the city without needing to stand in the middle of a public street or climb onto a building where cameras would notice him.
He crossed the road once traffic cleared.
At the base of the hill, he stepped into the narrow shadow created by a broken section of wall and a cluster of trees. Wraith Step carried him upward through the overlapping darkness, and he emerged near the upper ridge before the next car had reached the road below.
From the hill, Rome opened beneath him.
The city stretched across the distance in layers of old rooftops, domes, apartment blocks, narrow streets, church towers, traffic routes, and modern structures built beside architecture that had survived empires. The morning sun rested across the stone in pale gold, turning distant windows bright and bringing soft haze over the denser sections of the city.
Vatican City stood apart even at this distance.
To ordinary eyes, it looked majestic rather than supernatural: domes rising above the surrounding rooftops, broad stone structures, old walls, plazas, religious buildings, gardens, and the flow of people moving through a place that had become both a seat of faith and one of the most visited locations in the world. Tourists would see history. Priests would see sacred authority. Politicians would see a sovereign state contained inside a larger city.
Noctis saw the wards.
Omni Eyes opened fully.
The first layer appeared around the wider boundary of Vatican City as a pale-gold field resting over the outer walls, gates, roads, and surrounding approach routes. It did not look solid. It resembled a broad veil of warm light stretched over the city's edges, subtle enough that humans moved through it without seeing anything, but structured enough that every line held purpose. Tier 2 holy energy flowed through the outer layer in calm pulses, detecting dark, demonic, abyssal, corrupted, or unholy signatures that crossed into its range.
A normal vampire would not reach the inner city without triggering it.
Noctis watched the field move through the air above the walls, then followed the lines inward.
The second layer rose through the visible roads, gates, and major access points like an immense lattice of scripture made from gold-white light. Tier 3 formations crossed over one another in patterns too complex for ordinary sight, threading through stone walls, security checkpoints, churches, gardens, and the major routes used by visitors. The formation could create holy restraints around intruders, weaken blood-based abilities, and force lower-tier dark creatures into a state of constant suppression before they reached anything important.
Beyond it, the third layer expanded around the more protected structures.
Tier 4 holy patterns formed vast stained-glass shapes in the air, their colors nearly invisible beneath ordinary daylight but unmistakable through Omni Eyes. Scriptural lines curved over domes, crossed between towers, and descended through the oldest foundations of the city. The formation was beautiful enough to resemble an enormous cathedral constructed from light, yet every piece of it carried the type of holy force that could burn an ordinary vampire or demon before they understood why their body had stopped responding.
Noctis remained still on the hill.
The holy wards were not random barriers placed one inside another. They had been designed as a living system. The outer layers detected and weakened intruders. The inner layers restricted movement, removed access to unholy power, and directed anything dark toward controlled kill zones guarded by priests, formations, relics, and whatever holy personnel remained hidden behind the public face of Vatican City.
The fourth layer was heavier.
Tier 5 holy energy concentrated around restricted sanctums, archives, reliquary chambers, underground storage areas, and the inner institutions most ordinary visitors would never reach. The structure glowed with denser radiance, its lines written into the city's oldest stone and reinforced by generations of ritual. Noctis could see relic-like anchors embedded beneath major structures, each one feeding the ward system with preserved holy authority.
This was where the Vatican stopped being a religious city and became a fortress.
The final layer stood at the center.
Tier 6.
Noctis's eyes narrowed as the innermost ward revealed itself around the deepest Vatican structures. It was not merely brighter than the others. It was almost blinding, a radiant shell of gold-white energy formed from layered halos, moving scripture, holy symbols, and immense formations that rose into the sky like the shape of a second cathedral existing over the real one.
The energy pulsed with a disciplined rhythm, every movement linked to the wards beneath it. It protected something deeper than public halls and visible basilicas. There were relic chambers below that light, archives, sanctums, private vaults, and sources of holy authority powerful enough that the Tier 6 ward had been built to ensure nothing unworthy reached them.
The sight was magnificent.
Any ordinary vampire or demon would have looked at Vatican City through Omni Eyes and felt fear before taking a single step closer. The ward layers rose one after another, each more refined and deadly than the last, until the entire city appeared wrapped in the concentrated authority of something ancient, holy, and hostile to everything connected to blood, abyss, corruption, or demonic power.
Noctis felt no fear.
He studied the formation instead.
The outer Tier 2 layer could identify his bloodline if he crossed carelessly, though he had ways to control how much of his presence he allowed into the world. The Tier 3 and Tier 4 layers would be more difficult because they were built to weaken exactly the sort of energy he used. The Tier 5 and Tier 6 structures required more than brute force. They demanded a route, an understanding of the formation anchors, or enough authority to make the holy energy recognize something other than an enemy.
His gaze moved across the city again.
He had not come here for demonic relics.
The Volturi's vault had given him four relic-class objects, one sealed gem that might have quietly influenced an entire bloodline, and a collection of information he would examine later. Vatican City offered a different kind of target. The holy relics stored within its sanctums could strengthen the part of his forces that had once belonged to the divine before falling beneath his blood.
Nocthyrael's fallen angels had holy origins. Adrian and the fallen clergy still carried the foundations of their original sacred authority, even though Noctis's blood and abyssal power had reshaped their allegiance and their abilities. Holy relics would not cleanse them or return them to the beings they had once been. Properly controlled, the relics could strengthen their holy–blood–abyss synchronization, improve holy combat techniques, reinforce fallen formations, and give them access to sacred weapons or spell focuses that did not depend entirely on Noctis being present.
The thought made the Vatican more useful than the Volturi.
Its holy energy would be inconvenient. Its wards would require care. Its defenders would likely be stronger and more organized than the vampire court he had just left. But the relics hidden behind those layers could turn the fallen angels and clergy into something far more dangerous than they already were.
Noctis let Omni Eyes remain active while the city glowed beneath him.
The Tier 6 barrier was beautiful enough to make the entire center of Vatican City look as though another sunrise had settled over it. Scripture-like patterns drifted through the air above the domes, halos turned slowly around structures that humans believed were merely historic, and the layers beneath the city connected into a formation so vast that even Noctis needed several seconds to trace where one defense ended and another began.
He watched until he understood the rhythm of the outermost layer.
Then his expression settled into the faintest smile.
The Vatican had spent centuries building holy walls around its treasures.
Noctis had spent far less time learning how to enter fortified places, and he had already walked through one of the oldest vampire courts in Europe, taken what he wanted, and left beneath the sun.
He lowered his gaze toward the outer Tier 2 boundary and began deciding where to test it first.