The Last Heir Of The Van Declaoria Bloodline - Chapter 5

The Game Behind the Fire

The explosion had been seen from nearly a mile away.

For several seconds, the night sky above the highway turned orange.

Then the darkness returned.

By the time emergency vehicles arrived, the fire had already begun to die.

Smoke curled into the storm clouds.

Twisted metal lay scattered across the road.

No one inside the burning wreckage had survived.

At least…

that was what the official report would say.

Inside a quiet office somewhere in Arlein, a television screen displayed the breaking news.

“Fatal Vehicle Explosion on Eastern Highway.”

A reporter stood near the damaged road.

Authorities believe the explosion was caused by a mechanical malfunction…

The man watching the screen muted the broadcast.

He leaned back slowly in his chair.

Silver hair fell across his shoulders.

His eyes were calm.

Almost bored.

“So,” he murmured.

“They took the bait.”

Behind him, another man stood silently.

“You expected them to act tonight?”

The silver-haired man nodded slightly.

“They’ve been watching Regna for days.”

“And once they confirmed his identity…”

“…they would move quickly.”

The second man frowned.

“But the explosion—”

“—was necessary.”

The first man stood and walked toward the window.

Rain streaked across the glass.

“The Van Declaoria Family believes they just eliminated the heir.”

He smiled faintly.

“And that illusion will buy us time.”

Across the city, in the quiet house at the edge of Arlein, Lieta stood in the darkness of the living room.

The house felt empty now.

Too empty.

But her mind was not on the silence.

She was staring at the television screen.

The same news broadcast.

The same burning vehicle.

Her son’s name appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Regna Mileron – Presumed Dead

For several seconds she watched without moving.

Then she reached forward and turned the television off.

The room fell silent again.

“Presumed,” she said quietly.

“That word is doing a lot of work.”

She walked slowly toward the window.

The rain had softened.

The street was empty.

But she knew they were still watching.

They always watched.

Lieta took a deep breath.

“Congratulations,” she whispered into the darkness.

“You finally believe you’ve won.”

Far from the city, the forest road wound through the mountains like a black ribbon.

The SUV’s headlights cut through the fog.

Inside the vehicle, the old man checked the mirror.

Alena was still asleep in the back seat.

The driver spoke quietly.

“We’re nearly there.”

“Good.”

“Do you think they’ll track us?”

The old man shook his head.

“They’re too busy celebrating.”

The driver glanced at him.

“You sound very confident.”

The old man looked out at the dark forest.

“When powerful people believe they’ve already won…”

“…they stop looking for threats.”

The vehicle finally reached an abandoned mountain lodge hidden deep within the forest.

The building looked forgotten.

Old.

Quiet.

Perfect.

The driver carried Alena inside carefully.

She stirred slightly but did not wake.

The old man followed behind them.

When they entered the cabin, he locked the door and checked the windows.

“Security first,” he muttered.

The driver laid the sleeping girl gently on a bed near the fireplace.

“Poor kid.”

The old man nodded slowly.

“She just became the most dangerous child in the world.”

Back in Arlein, Lieta opened a drawer beneath the kitchen counter.

Inside were several old documents.

She pulled one out.

A photograph.

Three people stood together.

A young Lieta.

A man with silver hair.

And a boy.

Regna.

But the photograph was not the important part.

The symbol behind them was.

A crest.

A golden emblem shaped like a V surrounded by thorns.

The crest of Van Declaoria.

But beneath it was something few people had ever seen.

An inscription.

“Sanguis Argentum – The Silver Blood.”

Lieta stared at the words for several seconds.

Then she spoke softly.

“You should have destroyed the records.”

Her voice grew colder.

“But you never believed I would come back.”

She placed the photograph on the table.

“And that was your mistake.”

High above the city, inside the Van Declaoria tower, the council meeting had ended hours earlier.

Most of the lights in the building were already dark.

But one office remained illuminated.

The silver-haired uncle of Lieta sat alone behind a massive desk.

A report lay open in front of him.

Vehicle destroyed.

No survivors.

Target eliminated.

He closed the folder.

For the first time in several days, he allowed himself to relax.

“Finally.”

He poured another glass of whiskey.

“The bloodline ends tonight.”

But across the city, in the quiet house, Lieta smiled for the first time since the explosion.

It was not a warm smile.

It was the smile of someone who had waited many years.

“You really believe that,” she whispered.

Her phone vibrated.

She answered immediately.

“Yes.”

The old man’s voice came through the speaker.

“The girl is safe.”

Lieta closed her eyes briefly.

“Good.”

“And Regna?”

There was a pause.

Then the old man said quietly,

“Phase two begins tomorrow.”

Lieta nodded slowly.

“Then the real game begins.”

In the mountains, the storm clouds slowly drifted away.

Moonlight slipped through the trees.

Inside the cabin, Alena stirred in her sleep.

The old man stood near the door, watching the forest outside.

He whispered to himself.

“The Van Declaoria Family thinks the heir is gone.”

His eyes moved toward the sleeping child.

“But they’ve forgotten something.”

He smiled faintly.

“Silver blood does not disappear so easily.”

Back in Arlein, Lieta stood in the darkness of the kitchen.

The rain had stopped.

The city felt strangely quiet.

She looked out the window once more.

“Dear uncle,” she whispered.

“You just burned the wrong car.”

Her eyes hardened.

“And soon…”

“…you will learn what it means to hunt the blood you tried to erase.”

The war inside the Van Declaoria Family had only just begun.

And the ashes of the explosion…

were only the opening move.

The house remained quiet for a long time after the call ended.

Lieta did not move.

The darkness inside the living room wrapped around the old furniture and the silent walls that had witnessed years of ordinary life.

Family dinners.

Alena’s laughter.

Regna sitting at the table late at night finishing paperwork.

All of it now felt distant.

Like a life that had already ended.

But Lieta knew better.

This was not the end.

This was the beginning.

She walked slowly down the hallway toward Regna’s room.

The door creaked softly as she pushed it open.

The room looked untouched.

A jacket hung over the back of the chair.

A half-finished notebook lay on the desk.

The faint smell of coffee still lingered in the air.

For a moment, Lieta simply stood there.

Then she walked toward the desk and opened the drawer.

Inside was a small wooden box.

Plain.

Unremarkable.

The kind of box most people would ignore.

But Lieta knew exactly what it contained.

She opened it carefully.

Inside rested a thin silver ring.

The surface of the metal was engraved with the same crest she had seen earlier.

The Van Declaoria emblem.

But this ring was older.

Much older.

It belonged to a line that few people in the family even remembered anymore.

The true bloodline.

The silver blood.

Lieta picked it up and turned it slowly between her fingers.

“Your father carried this once,” she whispered softly.

The memory surfaced in her mind.

A man standing in a field beneath the early morning sun.

Lukas Mileron.

A farmer.

A simple man.

A man who had loved her enough to walk away from the most powerful family in the world.

And for that…

He had paid the price.

Her grip on the ring tightened slightly.

“They killed you because you protected us,” she murmured.

Outside the window, the clouds finally began to break.

Moonlight spilled faintly across the quiet street.

Lieta slipped the ring into her pocket.

“Now it’s my turn.”

She left the room and returned to the kitchen.

The metal box beneath the cabinet was still open.

Inside it rested several things she had not touched in years.

Documents.

Maps.

And a small pistol.

But beneath those items was something more important.

A sealed envelope.

Lieta picked it up slowly.

The paper had yellowed with age.

On the front was a single sentence written in black ink.

“Open only when the war begins.”

Lieta stared at the words for several seconds.

Then she broke the seal.

Inside was a thin sheet of paper.

Only a few lines had been written.

But they were enough.

Her eyes moved slowly across the message.

When she finished reading, she exhaled quietly.

“So… you knew.”

A faint smile appeared.

Even now, after all these years, the man who wrote that message still understood the Van Declaoria family better than anyone.

Even better than its own members.

Lieta folded the letter and slipped it into her coat.

Then she picked up the pistol.

The weight felt familiar.

Comforting.

“Dear uncle,” she whispered softly into the silent house.

“You think the game ended tonight.”

She walked toward the door.

The rain had stopped completely now.

The night air was cold.

“But what you really did…”

Her silver hair shimmered faintly under the moonlight.

“…was wake the curse you spent thirty years trying to bury.”

She stepped outside.

The wind moved gently through the empty street.

Far above the city, the Van Declaoria tower glowed against the dark sky.

Lieta looked at it for a long moment.

Then she turned away.

Because now she had work to do.

And somewhere in the mountains, a small girl with silver blood slept peacefully.

Unaware that the war for her future had already begun.

The curse of the silver-haired bloodline was no longer hiding.

It was rising.