"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin" Chapter 200 – The Blood of the Family

The laboratory was silent, save for the occasional flicker of the torchlight against the cold stone walls. The weight of what had just transpired still hung in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities.

Seraphis stood before Veylan, the newborn yet ancient Sleeper, now fully awakened and bound to her by blood. His silver eyes, like molten rcury, studied her with a depth of understanding that went beyond simple words.

But sothing was missing.

He knew nothing of the world.

He had been trapped in a half-life, a prison of forced experintation and tornt. If he was to serve her—if he was to be her family—he needed to understand everything.

And so, she would give him mories.

The Sharing of Knowledge

Seraphis raised a single hand and placed her fingertips against Veylan’s forehead. The warmth of his skin was foreign, unlike any vampire she had touched before. He was more than undead—he was sothing new.

“Your mind is a blank slate,” she murmured. “But I will not allow you to be ignorant.”

Veylan said nothing. He only nodded.

Seraphis inhaled deeply, then reached into herself—into the depths of her own mories, experiences, and knowledge.

Then, with a single pulse of ntal force, she pushed.

The mont their minds connected, Veylan shuddered.

A Flood of mories

Images—thousands upon thousands of them—poured into his consciousness like a raging river.

He saw the castle cave, the darkened corridors lined with endless books. He felt the touch of cold steel, the weight of an assassin’s blade in his palm.

He witnessed Seraphis’s journey—her silent footsteps through cities, her whispered kills in the dead of night.

He absorbed knowledge of vampires, their hierarchies, their strengths and weaknesses. He understood the politics of the undead, the war between ancient bloodlines, the whispers of creatures that should not exist.

He saw the way she moved, the way she killed, the way she ruled.

Her intelligence. Her calculations. Her power.

And then—he saw himself.

The Sleeper.

A discarded experint, a child of pain, a weapon that had never been allowed to awaken until she had given him life.

The mories overwheld him, flooding every corner of his mind, but he did not resist. He embraced them.

By the ti Seraphis withdrew her hand, his breath was slow, asured. He understood.

He knew.

And for the first ti, he truly existed.

A Warrior’s Attire

Seraphis took a step back, watching him carefully. His posture had changed—more assured, more purposeful.

She turned without a word and walked to a nearby wardrobe—one she rarely opened.

With a single motion, she pulled out the uniform.

It was not ordinary clothing.

It was an assassin’s uniform, crafted in the style of a commander’s attire.

The long coat was midnight black, reinforced with layers of protective enchantnts. The high collar bore the insignia of her bloodline—a raven with silver eyes. The material was as soft as shadow, yet as strong as steel.

The gloves were fitted, made of fine leather, allowing perfect dexterity for blade work.

The boots were lined with silent runes, ensuring he could walk the world unseen.

The belt held daggers of obsidian, their edges hungry for blood.

And at last—the mask.

A smooth, blackened mask, void of expression. No features. No identity. Only darkness.

Seraphis turned to him, holding the garnts out.

“These are yours,” she said simply.

Veylan took them. His fingers traced the fabric, understanding its weight—not just as clothing, but as a mantle.

He dressed in silence.

As he donned the coat, his posture beca commanding. As he pulled the gloves over his fingers, he beca a shadow.

And as he slipped the mask over his face, he ceased to be a re creation.

He beca Veylan.

Seraphis nodded in approval. “Welco to the family.”

The First Conversation

For the first ti, Veylan spoke on his own accord.

“I was nothing before this mont,” he admitted, his voice steady. “But now… I have a place.”

Seraphis studied him.

She had given him knowledge, yes. But what of his true past?

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Veylan was quiet for a mont.

Then, his silver eyes flickered.

“Yes,” he said.

Seraphis arched a brow. “How many?”

“Two.”

“Two sisters,” he clarified.

Seraphis’s expression did not change, but internally, her mind sharpened.

Sisters.

There were more.

More like him.

More experints.

More Sleeper creations.

This changed everything.

A Future Unfolds

Seraphis leaned against the edge of the desk, her fingers drumming idly against the wood.

“Tell about them,” she said.

Veylan hesitated—not because he didn’t want to speak, but because his mind was still catching up.

Finally, he answered.

“They were not like ,” he said carefully. “They were… different.”

Seraphis narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Veylan’s voice was thoughtful. “They were… incomplete. Where I endured, they were fragile.”

Seraphis exhaled slowly. Incomplete experints. That ant one of two things.

Either they had perished—

Or they were still out there.

She turned away, staring at the ancient tos stacked high on her desk.

Her mind was already calculating. Already planning.

If Veylan had two sisters, then that ant there were still loose ends.

And Seraphis did not like loose ends.

She glanced back at Veylan, studying the way he stood—tall, powerful, ready.

He was more than an experint.

He was the first of sothing new.

And now, they had unfinished business.

“We will find them,” she said at last.

Veylan’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles beneath his mask.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We will.”