The Last Heir Of The Van Declaoria Bloodline - Chapter 7

The night had grown unusually quiet.

After days of relentless rain, Arlein finally rested under a sky scattered with faint stars. The city lights glowed softly across the river, reflecting on the wet streets that still smelled of storm.

But inside the old house at the edge of the district, sleep did not come easily.

Lieta Van Declaoria sat alone in the kitchen.

The same chair.

The same table.

But the house no longer felt the same.

For years this place had been a refuge. A place far from the reach of the Van Declaoria family. A place where power, influence, and bloodlines meant nothing.

Or at least…

That was what she had wanted to believe.

Her fingers slowly traced the rim of the coffee cup in front of her.

Cold.

Untouched.

Her mind replayed the phone call again and again.

Ewan’s voice.

The arrogance.

The confidence.

He truly believed the heir was gone.

And that belief was exactly what made him dangerous.

Lieta leaned back slightly in her chair.

“Thirty years,” she whispered.

“Thirty years hiding from this war.”

The silence in the room answered her.

Outside the window, the wind moved softly through the empty street.

But something about the night felt wrong.

Not threatening.

Not yet.

But inevitable.

Like the moment before a storm breaks.

---

Across the city, in the towering glass headquarters of the Van Declaoria Family, another meeting had begun.

The council chamber was lit by a long row of dim ceiling lights.

Five figures sat around the dark marble table.

Silver hair glimmered under the pale light.

The symbol of Van Declaoria rested on the far wall behind them — a golden **V** surrounded by sharp thorned branches.

Ewan Van Declaoria stood near the window.

His hands rested behind his back as he gazed at the skyline of Arlein.

“The news confirmed the explosion,” he said calmly.

“The heir is gone.”

Ludwig Van Declaoria leaned casually against the table.

Luke.

Tall.

Sharp.

With the same cold intelligence that had made his father feared inside the family.

“And Lieta?” he asked.

Ewan smiled faintly.

“She’s grieving.”

Leticia Van Declaoria laughed quietly from her seat.

“Grieving?” she said.

“You really believe that?”

Everyone in the room knew Lieta too well.

Leticia crossed her arms.

“She’s planning something.”

Across from her, Herlucia Van Declaoria remained silent.

Lucia rarely spoke during meetings.

But when she did, the room usually listened.

Her eyes were fixed on the glowing city outside.

“She always does.”

Emerald Van Declaoria spun a pen between her fingers.

Amy.

The youngest among them.

But perhaps the most unpredictable.

“So the legendary Lieta Van Declaoria has returned to the board.”

Her smile widened slightly.

“I was starting to get bored.”

Ewan finally turned toward the table.

“Do not underestimate her.”

His voice carried a quiet authority that silenced the room instantly.

“She was the most dangerous strategist our family ever produced.”

He paused.

“And she is also the only one who ever walked away from it.”

---

Back in the quiet house, Lieta stood slowly from her chair.

She walked toward the old cabinet in the hallway.

The cabinet door creaked softly as she opened it.

Inside was a locked metal box.

One she had not touched in years.

Her fingers rested on the cold steel surface.

For a moment she hesitated.

Then she opened it.

Inside were several old documents.

Most of them were records she had taken when she left the Van Declaoria estate decades ago.

Family charts.

Genetic reports.

Private research files.

Evidence of something the outside world would never believe.

The truth about the Van Declaoria bloodline.

Lieta lifted one of the folders carefully.

Across the cover were three words written in faded ink.

**Project Argentum**

Her eyes hardened.

“So you continued it,” she whispered.

The pages inside were filled with diagrams.

Genetic sequences.

DNA markers.

Symbols that had defined the family for generations.

The **Silver Hair**.

Most people believed it was simply a hereditary trait.

A strange but harmless characteristic of the Van Declaoria lineage.

But the truth was far darker.

Silver hair was not just a genetic feature.

It was the result of decades of experimentation.

Selective breeding.

Manipulated evolution.

The Van Declaoria family had spent generations attempting to create something they called **the perfect bloodline**.

Brilliant minds.

Enhanced intelligence.

Strategic instincts beyond ordinary humans.

But perfection always demanded a price.

The more they refined the bloodline…

The more unstable it became.

Psychological fractures.

Extreme ambition.

And an inability to trust anyone outside the family.

Lieta closed the file slowly.

“The curse,” she murmured.

---

Miles away in the mountains, the forest cabin remained hidden beneath tall pine trees.

Inside, the fireplace crackled softly.

The old man sat near the window.

Watching the dark forest outside.

Alena slept peacefully in the small bedroom nearby.

For now, she was safe.

But the old man knew safety was temporary.

Nothing remained hidden forever from the Van Declaoria Family.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“Your grandmother was right,” he muttered quietly.

“The moment they discovered the bloodline…”

“…everything would change.”

The driver of the SUV stepped into the room.

“You think they’ll find us here?”

The old man shook his head.

“Not tonight.”

“But soon.”

His eyes drifted toward the bedroom door.

“That girl carries something they want more than power.”

---

Back in Arlein, Lieta placed the folder back inside the metal box.

But one document remained in her hand.

The final report of **Project Argentum**.

She read the last page carefully.

A note had been written there many years ago.

A note she remembered well.

*“Generation Three remains incomplete.”*

*“Further stability may only appear in Generation Four.”*

Her breath slowed.

“Generation four…”

Her mind immediately moved to one person.

Alena.

The girl was not just another descendant.

She was something the Van Declaoria council had waited generations to see.

And that realization made the war far more dangerous than before.

“They’re not hunting revenge,” Lieta whispered.

“They’re hunting evolution.”

---

Across the city, the council meeting was ending.

Ewan placed his hands on the table and looked at the others.

“The girl must be found.”

Luke nodded.

“And Lieta?”

Ewan smiled faintly.

“She will lead us to her.”

Leticia stood.

“I’ve waited years for this.”

Lucia followed silently.

Amy twirled the pen again before dropping it onto the table.

“The hunt begins.”

---

Back in the quiet house, Lieta turned off the kitchen light.

The room fell into darkness.

Only the moonlight illuminated the hallway.

She looked once more toward the street outside.

“You think you understand this bloodline,” she whispered softly.

“But you never understood the most important rule.”

Her voice dropped into a cold whisper.

“The curse never destroys its enemies.”

“It destroys its own family.”

The war within the Van Declaoria bloodline had begun.

And somewhere far away…

a man long believed to be dead was preparing to return.

But Lieta did not know that yet.

The next move had already begun.

And the past she believed buried forever…

was about to rise again.

---

The decision came to her suddenly.

Lieta did not hesitate once the thought settled in her mind.

She returned to the kitchen, grabbed her coat, and placed the old folder back inside the metal box. The documents would remain here for now. Carrying them would only slow her down.

What mattered now was confirmation.

If the final report was correct…

If **Generation Four** truly existed…

Then the Van Declaoria family would stop at nothing.

Not for power.

Not for revenge.

But for control of the bloodline itself.

Lieta locked the cabinet and stepped outside.

The night air was cold but clear. The storm clouds had finally disappeared, revealing a pale moon hanging above the quiet neighborhood.

Her car waited where it always had.

A modest vehicle.

The kind no one would ever associate with a member of the Van Declaoria dynasty.

She started the engine.

The headlights cut through the empty street as the car rolled slowly toward the main road.

Arnoise was nearly three hours away.

A small village far beyond the city.

A place forgotten by most maps.

And the place where everything had once begun.

---

The highway stretched endlessly beneath the dim glow of streetlights.

For the first hour, Lieta drove without thinking.

The city lights faded behind her.

Tall buildings gave way to dark fields and quiet hills.

The farther she drove, the quieter the world became.

Her mind drifted back decades.

Back to a time before war.

Before betrayal.

Before the Van Declaoria name had become a curse in her life.

She remembered the first day she arrived in Arnoise.

A dusty road.

A wooden house at the edge of a wheat field.

And a man waiting beside the fence.

Lukas Mileron.

A farmer.

A scientist.

And the only man who had ever made her forget she was born into one of the most powerful families in the world.

He had looked at her that day and smiled.

Not because of her name.

Not because of her bloodline.

But simply because she was **Lieta**.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

“Lukas…”

The name escaped her lips quietly.

Thirty years had passed since those days.

Thirty years since she believed that life could remain hidden from the reach of the Van Declaoria family.

But now the past was rising again.

And with it came the question that had haunted her for hours.

Was **Generation Four** real?

Or had the council simply revived an old myth to justify their hunt for Alena?

The road narrowed as the car left the highway.

Gravel crunched beneath the tires.

Tall trees began to appear along both sides of the road.

Lieta recognized the path instantly.

She had driven this road countless times long ago.

Arnoise.

A village so small that most travelers passed it without noticing.

But to her, it had once been the center of the world.

The car slowed as the first houses appeared.

Simple wooden structures.

Dim porch lights.

The distant sound of wind moving through wheat fields.

Nothing here had changed.

Time seemed to move differently in Arnoise.

Lieta finally turned onto a narrow path leading away from the main road.

At the end of that path stood a small house.

Old.

Quiet.

Surrounded by tall grass.

Her house.

The house she and Lukas had built together when they chose to abandon the Van Declaoria family forever.

Lieta stopped the car.

The engine fell silent.

For several seconds she remained in the driver's seat, staring at the dark building.

Memories flooded back.

Laughter.

Long evenings by the fireplace.

The sound of Regna running across the wooden floor as a child.

A life that once felt real.

But the past had never truly let them go.

Lieta stepped out of the car slowly.

The wind moved gently through the field behind the house.

The front door creaked as she pushed it open.

Dust floated through the faint moonlight entering the room.

Everything inside looked untouched.

The table.

The chairs.

Even the old bookshelf Lukas had built by hand.

Her footsteps echoed softly across the wooden floor.

Then she stopped.

Something felt wrong.

Not dangerous.

But unfamiliar.

Her eyes moved slowly toward the front door.

Toward the wood just beside the handle.

And there—

Carved carefully into the surface—

Was a symbol.

Small.

Precise.

A mark she had not seen in decades.

A **circle surrounding a single letter V**.

Lieta’s breath caught in her chest.

Her fingers slowly reached toward the carving.

The mark was fresh.

New.

Someone had carved it recently.

But only one person in the world knew that symbol.

The man who had carved it the first time.

The man who had once told her it meant **“home.”**

Lieta’s voice barely rose above a whisper.

“…Lukas.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

For the first time since the war had begun, something inside her truly shifted.

If that symbol was real…

Then the past she believed buried forever…

Was no longer buried at all.