The night sky was pitch-black and filled with stars.
A full moon hung low on the horizon, washing the land below in a cold, pale white.
High above the ground, a massive dark-green bat struggled through the air.
Its claws gripped a wooden crate—far too large for its size.
Inside that crate was no ordinary passenger.
It held Adam.
The first son of God.The progenitor of humanity, bloodkin, and elves alike.
Out of pure caution, the Baron of Smoke hadn't carried Adam directly.
Instead, he had found a massive wooden crate inside the castle and had Adam ride inside it.
He didn't know how much transforming into a bat—and hauling something this heavy—would slow him down.
What if dawn came before they reached their destination?
He could always find a corner to hide in.
A crevice.A shadow.Even a sand dune would do.
But Adam?
That was another matter entirely.
He refused to risk offending his new master.
So he chose the safest solution.
Before leaving, he had also explained everything to Vine.
"His full name is Adam Blades," the Baron said calmly."A member of the Blades family of Western Europa. He was exiled and has come here as a result. I intend to take him in as a new member of my family."
He also warned Vine not to spread the word.
Among bloodkin, sheltering someone exiled by another family was an unspoken practice.
Common enough.
But never honorable.
Certainly not something to announce.
Vine found nothing strange about it.
The Baron's reasoning was simple.
The more people who knew, the greater the risk.
As for whether Adam was officially listed as reinforcement to be reported upward—or merely taken in privately—
That distinction existed only on paper.
And Vine would never see those documents.
Adam approved.
This level of caution impressed him.
Turning the Baron into a second-generation bloodkin had been an accident on Adam's part.
But it was a satisfying result.
Fortunately, the flight speed wasn't affected too badly.
Even so, the effort pushed the Baron to his limits.
Still—
To leave a good impression on his new master, he clenched his teeth and endured all the way to their destination.
…
The Baron's estate lay within an oasis on the outskirts of the royal capital.
An isolated oasis.
No neighbors.
This land had belonged to the Smoke family for generations.
"Generations," of course, required careful work.
To avoid suspicion, the family maintained strict numbers.
Three masters.Six servants.A few long-term guests.
All bloodkin.
The three masters were the Baron himself—and his son and daughter.
To outsiders, they changed names every few decades.
The Baron alone had been known as Tatam, Silu, Omar, and Sikadira.
Now, he went by Bilrick.
They took turns dealing with the outside world.
When a "family head" grew old and passed away, his "son" would take over—young and energetic.
Over the next twenty years, makeup and posture would slowly age him.
Once the role was exhausted, the Baron would step back in.
Same name.Same face.
After all—
Who lived long enough to question it?
Thanks to secret agreements between the bloodkin of the Musa Kingdom and the royal court, their reclusive lifestyle went largely undisturbed.
Security was layered.
A human guard force patrolled the outer perimeter to deter intruders.
Not foolproof.
But combined with bloodkin hearing, it was airtight against ordinary humans.
All of this was possible because of what the Baron had accumulated before becoming bloodkin.
Wealth.Status.Connections.
That foundation spared them the fate of other bloodkin—constantly fleeing, changing locations every decade to hide their lack of aging.
The Smoke family had even taken in a few wandering bloodkin.
Very few.
Because sheltering bloodkin was expensive.
One bloodkin required the blood of a full-grown human every week.
It could be stretched to two.
But extreme hunger led to loss of control.
And violence.
So they adopted a different method.
They took only what the human body could safely endure.
Less waste.
More control.
Through external channels, the Baron purchased prisoners of war and slaves.
They were kept in the underground chambers.
Living blood sources.
None of them knew what was happening.
They were fed on while under hypnosis.
All they felt was weakness.
It reduced fatalities.
But introduced new expenses.
Bloodkin life was not wealthy.
For a family with little income over centuries, it was still a burden.
Which was why—
They chose carefully whom to shelter.
…
Upon reaching the oasis, the Baron didn't fly Adam straight into the estate.
A bat carrying a massive crate was far too conspicuous.
So he landed outside the perimeter.
Returned to human form.
Then carried Adam in openly.
As described—
The Smoke estate occupied a vast oasis in the desert.
Nearly five kilometers across.
Dense with lush desert vegetation.
Following the central stone path inward, Adam saw an enormous garden.
Every tree was meticulously trimmed.
Not merely neat—
Artistic.
The lawn was flawless.
Not a weed in sight.
The residence itself was a massive four-story manor.
Few windows.
Its walls were carved with murals.
Behind it lay a rare desert pond.
Beautiful.
"If I didn't know this was your home," Adam said casually, "I'd think I walked into an art museum."
Walking ahead, the Baron turned and bowed slightly.
"Your Highness. With endless lifespans and little else to do, we tend to occupy ourselves this way."
Adam nodded.
That made sense.
Ancient bloodkin were often scholars.
Or artists.
Only those with endless youth could afford to waste time on such luxuries.
And secrecy meant staying indoors.
The irony was clear—
A race branded as filthy was, in truth, highly educated.
They reached the tall wooden doors.
Before either could stop—
The doors opened.
"Father—!"
A bell-like voice rang out.
A petite figure darted through the doorway and threw herself into the Baron's arms.
He laughed warmly.
"How do I look in my Western Europa outfit?" she asked excitedly."Sister Christine brought it for me. I begged her forever!"
She spun in place, her long skirt fluttering.
Only then did she notice Adam.
"Who's this bald guy?"
A tiny pink hat sat atop her head.
Black wavy hair was pulled back, revealing a smooth forehead.
Her eyes smiled.
Her slender brows carried a hint of sharpness.
A high nose.
Upturned lips.
A perfectly pointed chin.
She wore a pink lace gown, its corset tightening her slender frame in classic Western style.
Under the moonlight—
She looked pure.
Almost translucent.
The Baron stepped aside and bowed.
"This is His Highness Adam."
"Your Highness, this is my daughter—Silverbell."