Grand uncle just said it clearly.

"You drank it, didn't you?" "The blood," he said.

That was something that had been on my mind ever since that day... No, to be precise, I had unconsciously been aware of it since my twelfth birthday. It was a faint thirst—something that never healed, yet was too insignificant to concern myself with.

But that day, in the midst of my life-or-death battle with Tylus Arnell, I became fully aware of that thirst. I understood, at last, what I had been yearning for all this time.

Freesia’s seemingly impulsive idea—yet, it worked as though it had been the correct answer from the start. How many people in this world drink blood and find it "delicious"? I had naturally accepted it, swallowed it, and taken it in.

It was an impossible phenomenon—something far beyond the norm. It was undoubtedly tied deeply to the Bradley bloodline, to our very roots. To unravel this mystery, I had thought the best course of action would be to ask Zeke, the head of the family.

However, from the way Grand uncle spoke just now, it seemed he too understood the secret behind that Vampiric Impulse and the mystery of why I could inexplicably wield a second bloodline magic. If that were the case, then I needed to unravel the truth right here and now.

"I take it that you know everything?"

"Yes, that assumption is correct. I have the answers to your questions, Clay."

"...I see."

I put it into words to make it clear.

Without realizing it, I had already set aside my training and was staring straight at Grand uncle as I asked my question.

"Then, just what exactly is happening to me—?"

"Before that, let me confirm how much you already know. How far does your understanding go?"

He cut me off, as if to calm me down. His usual rough and reckless demeanor was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he carried the quiet air he occasionally displayed—a rare, serious attitude. And in response, I could say very little.

"How far... Honestly, I don't understand anything at all. Freesia mentioned that vampires might be involved, but that’s about it..."

Just as I had said, my understanding was practically nonexistent.

Even what Freesia had told me—whether or not it was the truth—remained uncertain. But given what had happened to my body, I couldn't simply dismiss it. Seeing my hesitation, Grand uncle nodded deeply.

"I see. Then let’s start from the beginning... First of all, the ancestor of the Bradley family—the very first head—was a half-blood, a hybrid of human and vampire."

"...Huh???"

"To begin with, Crimson Blood Magic is a magic that only vampires could use. Back in the era when the ancient species still existed, it wasn’t even considered a special bloodline magic at all."

"Wait... Hold on—"

"Back in those times, when interbreeding between species was still considered taboo, a certain man fell in love with a vampire princess—the woman known as the ‘Blood Princess.’ The world then was filled with intense racial conflict. Interracial marriages were unheard of... No, they were forbidden. It was an era where such a thing could even spark a great war."

The sheer weight of the information sent my brain into overload.

—What kind of absurdly dramatic backstory is this? It sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale.

But Grand uncle continued speaking without concern for my growing disbelief.

"Despite all opposition, the two loved each other. They defied the world, eloped to another continent, and chose to be together. That is the root—the very origin—of the Bradley family. That is how Crimson Blood Magic, which should have vanished with the extinction of the vampires, survived and became known as bloodline magic in the modern era."

"That sounds like one grand love story..."

"And so, within all of us, the blood of our ancestors runs equally—the blood of an ordinary man and the true ancestor of the vampires, the ‘Blood Princess.’ Those who inherit her blood most strongly gain the ability to wield Crimson Blood Magic. These individuals are what we call inheritors. Those chosen by the ‘Blood Princess’ among the Bradleys do not merely inherit a now-rare magic—they also inherit the biological traits of the vampire race. That biological trait is—"

"Vampiric Impulse."

"Exactly."

Though I had been confused at first, the more I listened, the more strangely convincing it all seemed. I had never imagined that the Bradley lineage carried such a history, but—

"For vampires, drinking blood was an act essential to survival. By drinking blood, they could continue living for what was practically an eternity. And in that very act of ‘bloodsucking’ lay the reason for the extinction of the vampire race."

"..."

Even as I struggled to process the information, the conversation only grew deeper.

"Originally, vampires sustained themselves by drinking the blood of animals and monsters. But one day, a single vampire began attacking indiscriminately, targeting humans, elves, and other races. Despite the laws forbidding vampires from drinking the blood of other intelligent species, this individual broke the rule."

"Why?"

The question arose instinctively—not about why drinking blood was forbidden, but why the incident had even occurred in the first place. Before I could dwell on it, Grand uncle provided the answer.

"Because, unlike animal or monster blood, the blood of other intelligent beings was highly addictive. It was sweet, intoxicating... and it granted unparalleled strength."

"Strength...?"

"You've felt it yourself, haven't you? The act of ‘bloodsucking’ grants the vampire the power of the one whose blood they drink."

"...!!"

At his words, I felt my breath catch. A cold chill ran down my spine, and an unpleasant sweat seeped through my skin.

"Blood is the very essence of life. Every living creature carries it within their body. Vampires could freely control blood, and by drinking it, they could make another’s strength their own. It was a power far too dangerous for a single race to possess, and the other species feared them greatly. That is why the law was created in the first place. Even the ruler of the vampires was wary of this ability’s fatal flaw and ordered their kin to follow the law strictly. And yet, despite these precautions, the incident happened. And thus, in that ancient era, the greatest stain upon history was born—the worst monster the world had ever known."

After a brief pause, the old man continued speaking. It was a story I had heard somewhere before.

“A vampire who drank the blood of various races and made their magic, their unique powers exclusive to their kind, his own, came to be known as the Tyrant of Blood and plunged that era into chaos.”

“...Why would he do such a thing?”

“As I just said, ‘other people's blood’ is special, valuable, powerful compared to the blood of animals or monsters, and—above all—highly addictive. A vampire who has tasted it even once becomes unable to live without it. They can think of nothing but human blood, and even the usually dormant Vampiric Impulse runs rampant against their will. The Tyrant of Blood, having consumed large quantities of blood, was swallowed by his impulse, transforming into a monster that could think only of feeding.”

Had I, perhaps, done something truly terrible? That fear ran through me.

“Consumed entirely by his Vampiric Impulse, the Tyrant of Blood became the most fearsome, dreadful being of that time—the Demon King. Eventually, he was slain by the Hero who rose to oppose him. One might have thought that this grand turmoil would end with his death, but reality was not so kind.

The Tyrant of Blood was dead, but his kin—the vampires—still remained. The world, fearing the birth of another Demon King, began an indiscriminate hunt to eradicate them. As a result, the vast majority of vampires were slaughtered, their numbers dwindling to the point where they could no longer sustain their species… and before anyone realized it, they were extinct.”

“......”

“I went on a bit of a tangent, but in short, our origin—this blood that runs through our bodies—is half that of the vampires, and what has happened to you stems from that very background.”

Hearing this, the fear swirling within me condensed into a single question.

“Then… does that mean that, like the Tyrant of Blood from the story, I could one day be consumed by my Vampiric Impulse?”

Since that day, I hadn’t felt any urges like ‘I want to suck blood’ or ‘I crave blood’. But was that only temporary? Would it one day consume me entirely?

Perhaps sensing my unease, the old man shook his head.

“You haven’t experienced a relapse of your Vampiric Impulse yet, have you? Then there’s no immediate problem. But you can’t afford to be careless.”

And then, he continued.

“As descendants, as hybrids, we feel the Vampiric Impulse far less than pure-blooded vampires. The weaker the Bradley blood in one's veins, the more likely they are to live their entire life without ever experiencing such a violent urge. But for us Heirs, who carry the blood of our ancestors strongly, things are different. The stronger our affinity with Crimson Blood Magic, the more pronounced the risk. Honestly, I never expected you to awaken your Vampiric Impulse this early—let alone actually drink blood. But… it seems your body has accepted it quite naturally.”

“...What do you mean by that?”

I tilted my head in confusion, and the old man furrowed his brow.

“In the past, there were fools who, upon learning this truth, sought power through bloodsucking. But their bodies rejected it, and they died.”

“What…?!”

“For us hybrids, bloodsucking is an extremely dangerous act. To put it simply, it’s akin to suicide.”

I swallowed hard. But after a moment of thought, it made sense.

After all, even if it was still blood, it was a foreign substance—something that had never existed within me—being introduced into my body. And on top of that, if it was being converted into power, there was bound to be a cost. Even if it had been a last-ditch survival instinct, I had unknowingly been walking a very fine line between life and death.

“Even if one’s body accepts the blood and gains power, if they become intoxicated by that surge of strength and repeatedly engage in bloodsucking, eventually their mind will be overtaken by the Vampiric Impulse. If that happens, they will transform into a monster just like the Tyrant of Blood. That’s why this information is only shared with those who have undergone relentless training, possess an unshakable physique, and have the mental strength to accept the truth. In other words, only those recognized as truly capable—the next head of the family or a select few among the Seven Peerless Swords—are ever told this.”

The old man’s explanation made sense. In my first life, I had never even come close to learning any of this. But now, understanding the reasoning behind it, I could see why. In that past life, I had been a disgrace, utterly unworthy of being entrusted with such knowledge.

That’s why, even as the heir candidate back then, I had never been told the truth. Then again, there were far too many things in my first life that I had been ignorant of…

“...Are you sure it’s okay to just tell me all of this so casually?”

Would it really be alright for me, walking my second life, to know such dangerous information? That doubt surfaced in my mind. However, the old man, his serious demeanor shifting, suddenly smirked challengingly.

“Both I and Zeke have judged that you are ready. Besides, you’ve already experienced the Vampiric Impulse firsthand—and you’ve even drunk blood. It would be far more dangerous for you to go on without knowing the truth and risk losing control.”

“Well… I guess that’s true…”

It didn’t quite sit right with me, but ultimately, if knowing this meant that I had been acknowledged as capable, then I should take it as a good thing.

—Though honestly, there was so much information that I couldn’t even begin to feel happy about it.

Was this even something to be happy about in the first place? That, I wasn’t sure of at all. As I sat there lost in thought, I suddenly noticed that the old man, who had been speaking so seriously just moments ago, had resumed his practice swings.

“Well, you’ve asked all your questions. Now get back to it.”

Just when I was starting to think a little better of him, he was as relentless as ever.

“...Yeah.”

But the old man had a point.

The scale of this story had been far beyond anything I had expected. I was still struggling to process the flood of information, and my thoughts were in complete disarray. But for now, I put it all aside and resumed my practice swings.