The Beatdown

A man was walking along a winding path when he suddenly froze, as if sensing something.

Looking up, at the very top of the old clock tower, a black-haired girl dressed in rough cloth clothes sat quietly. She gazed down at the playing children, her eyelids slightly lowered, lost in thought.

Flickering black flames still danced around her as if they had existed since time immemorial, gradually expanding under the brilliant sun.

From the man's perspective, the sun was blocked. Though a faint golden light still seeped through, it had lost its original brilliance. Against this backdrop, the girl's dim figure appeared even more obscured and shadowy.

As the light was gradually swallowed, the children noticed the eerie sight and quickly ran away in terror.

The man also seemed shocked by the scene. He opened his mouth slightly:

“What—”

Before he could finish, a dagger plunged into his heart from behind, making him stumble forward. However, the physical enhancement from being a Rank One of the Demon pathway saved him from instant death.

Using his remaining strength, he spun around wildly, but found no one there.

Just then, the crackling of burning flames echoed from his chest. Before the man could react, his heart was incinerated, killing him instantly.

Deactivating her concealment black robe, Celia began to loot the items dropped by the man. She had gotten smarter this time. Instead of burning the man to ash directly with her flames, she had coated the dagger in fire and used her clone's ability to manipulate flames to burn his heart directly from within.

This way, she could harvest much more loot!

From the man's black robe, Celia pulled out a parchment manuscript, an Abyssal Cultist badge, and a small, thin, hard plate engraved with strange geometric runes.

Placing the hard plate close to her body, she felt a noticeable increase in her walking speed.

At this thought, Celia opened the Notes of Destiny, but no text appeared on its pages.

“There are no spiritual fluctuations, so it probably isn't. But it does boost my speed to some extent, so it's useful to keep.”

With that in mind, she tucked it into her black robe.

Next, she picked up the badge, which bore four bright red words: “Abyssal Order.”

“This is probably used to verify one's identity.”

Celia quietly slipped it into her clone's pocket. While this thing was useless against those vampires, it might come in handy elsewhere later, so she kept it.

Finally, she turned her attention to the parchment manuscript. It was written in a strange script she couldn't understand.

Never mind. Once she sacrificed some spiritual items, she would have the Notes of Destiny translate it for her. It might have something to do with why the Abyssal Order wanted to assassinate her.

Having finished tidying up, Celia stood up, planning to head to the underground exchange to scavenge some spiritual items from the rooms.

Her plan was to have her clone make contact with Vincent first to stall for time, then lure him into her exchange room. She would seal both the iron door to his room and the entrance of the exchange with Crafter's Sigils. Then, using her Dominion ability, she would command everyone to gang up on him. It was absolutely perfect!

...

Inside the old tannery, a group of laborers and apprentices were stomping on hides in a dung vat.

Smelling the pungent odor, Vincent waved the air in front of his nose in disgust as he paced back and forth along the edge of the vat.

“Why aren't they here yet? Those fellows from the Abyssal Order are as ill-mannered as ever,” he said impatiently.

By chance, his gaze drifted toward the entrance, where a melancholy girl stood, looking completely out of place in her surroundings.

Vincent opened his mouth slightly in surprise.

However, as a noble who valued etiquette, he took the initiative to approach her, offering an elegant bow.

“Hello, my lady. May I ask if you are the contact from the Abyss?”

“Um... yes. Hello, sir. I am Solana...”

As she spoke, she carefully withdrew a badge from her pocket. Once Vincent nodded in acknowledgment, she quietly put it away.

Then, she pulled out a parchment manuscript, presenting it with both hands as she whispered:

“And... this is our plan for cooperation. Please have a look, sir...”

Taking the manuscript, Vincent flipped through a few pages. A smile curled at the corner of his lips as he lowered his voice:

“Yes, this plan is feasible. Please follow me back to our underground exchange to discuss the details.”

“Um, could you wait a moment...” The ethereal and pleasant words drifted from the girl's lips once more.

“Oh? Is there something else, my lady?”

“Yes, I wanted to know... what do you think of the Saintess, sir?”

“The Saintess? Do you mean Saintess Isariel, who has already left, or the one who recently ran to Leytin City from the Holy City?”

“I... I want to know a bit about both...” As she spoke, her voice grew softer. “Because they... they both concern our organization's plans...”

“Do you want my help in killing the current Saintess in Leytin City?” Vincent asked instinctively.

“Why would you think that, sir...”

“Three years ago, wasn't your goal to eliminate Saintess Isariel?”

“Oh... I see...”

Offering a vague smile, she asked again, “Then what is your opinion, sir?”

“I'll have to consider it. However, if that sacrifice pleases the Mother Goddess, I can ask my organization to lend you a hand.”

“Oh... alright...”

It seems they haven't reached a cooperation on assassinating me yet, Celia thought to herself.

After some more friendly conversation, and once the time required for the Crafter's Sigils to stabilize had passed, Solana followed Vincent back to the underground exchange.

As Vincent walked down the hallway, he suddenly noticed that the gazes of the silver-haired merchants around him were rather strange.

Puzzled, he paid it no mind and continued walking until he reached an iron door.

He tried to push it open, but the heavy door didn't budge.

“Hmm? What's going on?”

Vincent frowned, shoving the iron door hard a couple more times, but the heavy frame remained completely stationary.

Seeing that pushing the door was futile, Vincent offered an apologetic smile to Solana beside him. He then retrieved a bell from his clothes and gently rang it.

“Ding-ling, ding-ling...”

Just then, the woman wearing the Weeping Thorns Mask stepped out from the nearby shadows. Lowering her head, she spoke respectfully, “You summoned me, my lord.”

“Why won't the door open?” Vincent asked, somewhat irritated.

The masked woman inspected the door for a moment before turning back.

“The door seems to be broken. I will fetch a blacksmith to help. Please wait a moment.”

Vincent felt a wave of confusion. His door was usually perfectly fine. How could it happen to break at a time like this?

And the way those blood thralls were looking at him was also very bizarre...

He had a lingering feeling that something bad was about to happen...

To avoid raising suspicion, he pretended to be impatient and shoved the door a few more times, while secretly activating his blood perception.

Suddenly, he sensed a faint, blurry figure standing just inside the door!

His heart tightened. Just as he was about to concentrate and use his perception to probe the intruder's identity, he realized that behind him, the masked woman was lunging at him with a dagger!

Alerted by his blood warning, Vincent instinctively transformed into a swarm of bats to evade the attack. After spinning elegantly in the air, he reassumed his human form and landed gracefully on the other side.

“Traitor...”

Staring at the masked woman who was slowly retreating with the dagger in hand, Vincent murmured softly.

As a Rank Two Blood Contractor of the Blood pathway, Vincent had never imagined that he would one day be betrayed by his own blood thralls.

A bloody light flashed in his eyes. Vincent raised his hand, and a thicket of thorns instantly erupted from the ground in front of him, shooting toward the woman.

However, the thorns were instantly enveloped by a burst of black fire, turning to ash within the flames!

At this sight, Vincent stared at Solana in astonishment, but she merely kept her head lowered, remaining silent.

Just then, a sharp gust of wind blew past as a silver-haired merchant lunged forward with a dagger.

Vincent dodged to the side. The dagger grazed the edge of his coat and stabbed into a wooden crate behind him.

Having evaded the strike, Vincent was about to heave a sigh of relief when another silver-haired merchant closed in behind him in a few swift strides, throwing a heavy fist right at his face!

As Vincent went to dodge, a strange dagger suddenly flew in from the side and stabbed into his right shoulder. He groaned as his movements faltered, allowing the oncoming heavy punch to land squarely on his cheek.

The immense force sent him flying sideways, crashing into and overturning several stacked wooden crates!

Crash!

Amidst flying wood splinters, Vincent ignored the dagger in his shoulder and the throbbing pain in his face. He rolled along the ground and stabilized himself in a half-kneeling position.

Blood seeped from the wound on his right shoulder, quickly staining his sleeve red. He paid it no mind, simply wiping his hand over his shoulder to trigger his self-healing, closing the wound instantly.

Solana frowned. She raised her hand high, and spheres of pitch-black fire condensed in the air. As she waved her hand down, they rained toward Vincent like meteors.

Seeing this, Vincent rolled repeatedly to dodge. The contamination splashed across the ground, and under its corruptive influence, the eyes of the nearby silver-haired merchants instantly turned pitch black, madness beginning to spill from their gazes.

Just as Vincent stood up from the wreckage of the shattered wooden crates, he realized that the silver-haired merchants splashed by the black fire were quickly closing in on him—there were over a dozen of them!

Watching so many of his own blood thralls rebel, the elegant expression on Vincent's face finally crumbled completely.

He immediately released a cloud of black mist around him, transformed into a bat, and fled toward the entrance of the exchange!

Evading the flames and the crowd, he flew up the stone steps. At the entrance door, he reassumed his human form once more.

Just as he was about to push the door open, he suddenly noticed a Crafter's Sigil stuck tightly to it.

Beneath it was a note, with a few words written clearly:

“This door cannot be opened from this side.”

“(＞ᴗoಣ)”

Vincent could no longer maintain his aristocratic elegance. His face began to distort with rage.

Who was it?!

Who on earth was it?!!

They stole the Crafter's Sigil I spent a fortune on, and even turned all my blood thralls against me!!

Pretending to cooperate with him first, only to stab him in the back. Aside from those lunatics, he couldn't think of anyone else who would do such a thing!

But why would they do this?

For his collection? Or for spiritual items?!

But if that were the case, why didn't they just trade directly? Why did they have to offend the Blood Order?

Weren't they afraid of their retaliation?!

Suddenly, the crackling of burning flames echoed from behind, cutting off his train of thought.

Vincent turned his head stiffly. Countless silver-haired merchants burning with black fire were crowding the hallway, staring straight at him with hollow, pitch-black eyes.

“They... they literally set themselves on fire?!”

“Madmen! Utterly insane! What on earth did the Abyssal Order offer my blood thralls?!”

“I can provide them with blood, and I can cure their bloodlust... What can the Abyssal Order possibly do...”

Before he could figure it out, the burning merchants pounce on Vincent in a frenzy. The flames expanded with a roar, gradually engulfing everything...