The Last Bloodline; The Tale of the Master’s Revenge

CHAPTER 008

But the necklace hummed now, pulsing faintly against his skin, almost mocking him.

“What could have killed him? Who could have wanted him dead?” Marcus whispered to the empty room. His voice cracked, both from illness and fear.

The whisper came, slow and evasive. "Guardians do not die by chance."

Marcus’s chest tightened. “That’s not an answer.”

But no matter how many times he pressed, begged, demanded, the necklace refused to give him clarity. Only fragments, only riddles. The silence after each question left him seething, frustrated to the bone.

He dragged himself to his desk, coughing into his sleeve, and flipped open an old, dusty box he hadn’t touched in years. His father’s belongings. Newspaper clippings, photographs, an old leather journal with pages missing. He ran his fingers across the brittle paper, heart pounding with every turn.

Names, symbols, passages written in a hurried hand. And always, the same phrase repeated over and over in the margins—“The line must remain unbroken.”

Marcus leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His father hadn’t just been a victim of bad luck. He had been marked. Hunted. And now Marcus was too.

Marcus clenched his fists. “Fine,” he whispered to himself. “If you won’t tell me… I’ll find out on my own.”

The pendant warmed against his skin, as though amused. He didn't even know when he fell asleep and the next morning a sudden knock at the door jolted him upright.

Cautiously, he shuffled to the door and cracked it open.

It was Miss Evelyn.

That was true, she had said she was coming in the evening to pick him up. Marcus blinked awake to the sound of soft knocking. Still groggy, he shuffled to the door and pulled it open and standing there was Miss Evelyn, radiant as ever, her presence sharp enough to clear the fog from his half-dreaming mind.

“It’s you…” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Do you… need something?”

Her smile was calm, almost teasing. “Yes. I need you to get dressed. I want to take you somewhere and he wants to change your life in repayment for saving my life.

Before Marcus could question her, she had already turned away with certainty. He stood there for a moment, scratching the back of his head, then shut the door behind him. He felt it was not nice turning her down .

With a sigh, he pulled one of the freshly tailored suits from its hanger, the same ones she had insisted he took yesterday. It fit him like a second skin, transforming the street-worn drifter into someone who could easily pass for nobility.

When he stepped out of his room, the same car awaited. Evelyn sat in the back, poised, her gaze flickering to him briefly as he slid in beside her. The drive was quieter this time, neither speaking much, though the silence carried an odd weight as though something important was waiting ahead.

Finally, the car slowed and stopped. Marcus leaned toward the window, his eyes widening as the massive structure came into view. A hall, grander than any hall he had ever seen before, loomed before him.

Its steps were lined with red carpet, golden lights cascading across polished marble, and luxury cars pulling in one after another.

He turned to Evelyn, bewildered. “What… is this place?”

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “This, Marcus, is a ball. My grandfather requested your presence. He wants you here, to meet and socialize with the elite, the true elite. Men and women who make decisions that shape cities.”

Marcus was shocked but the chauffeur opened the door and he stepped out alongside Miss Evelyn then they walked inside the ball together.

Suddenly someone called Miss Evelyn and she ran off to greet them telling Marcus she would be back briefly.

When she left, He kept to the side, nursing a glass he hadn’t touched, when a familiar voice called Marcus's name a few moments later and when she turned it was Melissa.

“Marcus?”

He turned, and there she was Melissa. She looked radiant in a deep emerald gown, diamonds gleaming at her throat. Her smile froze halfway, surprise flickering across her face before it sharpened into suspicion.

“What are you doing here?”

Marcus scoffed lightly, straightening his tie. “Same as you. I’m in attendance.”

Her brows arched, disbelief etched in every line of her face. “Attendance?” She gave a brittle laugh. “No, no, how's that possible? You don’t belong here. You snuck in!”

Her eyes swept him up and down, landing on the expensive suit hugging him and her lips parted, then curved cruelly. “Oh my god. You’re stealing now, aren’t you? Because there is no way you could afford that.” She raised a hand to her mouth as if the realization had just hit her, pity mixing with mockery.

Before Marcus could answer, a tall man approached, his presence carrying the easy arrogance of someone born into privilege. He slipped an arm around Melissa’s waist. “Melissa, what’s the matter?”

Her voice dripped with false sweetness as she leaned against him. “This is Marcus. My ex-husband. He must’ve snuck in here just to look at him.” She gestured at Marcus as though he were some intruder.

The man frowned first and looked at him with an amused look on his face? “You're really an interesting one you even snuck in here just to talk to her? Even stealing this expensive suit to deceive everyone that you're rich but you're even homeless. How did you think you could deceive us that you bought that?”

Marcus eyebrows pressed together, “I don't know what you're saying and I didn't come here for you.” He replied and the man’s face hardened instantly. He raised a hand, beckoning sharply.

“Security, Security there is an intruder here,” The man announced, causing heads to turn in their direction.

Two guards in black suits swiftly appeared

almost at once, moving toward Marcus who was being pointed out by Melissa’s new man.

Marcus tensed as one reached for his arm and then, a calm but cutting voice broke through.

“Take your hands off him.”

The room stilled for a breath.