The hall was dimly lit. A few tallow torches set into the damp stone walls burned silently, and the surroundings were terrifyingly quiet, save for the dripping of water, the gnawing of rats, and the occasional clinking of coins.
Further inside was a long corridor, with stalls set up on both sides.
Celia walked along the path, warily looking around. Some silver-haired merchants sat nearby, their eyes hollow, mechanically repeating their sales pitches.
Halfway through, a woman wearing a mask of weeping thorns approached. Through Celia’s perspective, a strange red glow could be faintly seen emanating from her eyes, leaving Celia slightly dazed.
The woman lowered her head slightly and spoke respectfully:
“My lady, what do you require? Anti-aberration potions, fresh blood, or perhaps some live sacrifice materials?”
How had she been seen through again? Was she really that conspicuous? Celia was utterly speechless.
But she remained outwardly calm, lowering her voice as she said, “I need some spiritual items. Anything will do.”
It didn't matter. As long as she acted as if she wasn't exposed, it would be fine. Worst case, she would just kill everyone who noticed anything wrong with her!
After a brief pause, the masked woman spoke again:
“Very well, please follow me.”
The woman walked silently ahead with Celia following close behind. Solana, draped in the concealment black robe, trailed them in secret to guard against any underhanded sneak attacks.
The woman kept her head lowered the entire way until she stopped in front of an iron door and prepared to push it open.
Just then, a figure in a black robe hurriedly pushed open the door and ran out, nearly colliding head-on with the masked woman. In his right hand, he seemed to be holding a bottle filled with some indescribable black liquid, which made Celia feel quite nauseous.
Because he had almost run into someone, he seemed to deliberately lower his head—was he apologizing?
Taking this opportunity, Celia quietly sized the person up. There was a callus at the base of the person's right palm, the kind typically left by years of sword practice. She couldn't tell if it was just her imagination, but Celia felt that this person might be the black-robed woman she had encountered earlier.
“What is that black potion?” Celia suddenly asked the masked woman.
“That is an anti-aberration potion, used to suppress mutational contamination within the body,” the masked woman explained.
“Mutational contamination?”
“It is related to the disaster that struck Leytin City three years ago. The church's Holy Library has specific records of it; you may look them up yourself.”
“...”
Her interest thoroughly dampened, Celia pouted.
Once the black-robed figure had left, the masked woman pushed the door halfway open, then turned to Celia and said:
“Please wait a moment. I need to seek instructions from Baron Claire.”
“Alright,” Celia replied in a low voice.
Speaking of the Claire surname, she had often heard immigrants from the Northern Territory mention it. Was this Baron a noble from the North?
After a while, the masked woman emerged from behind the iron door.
“The Lord Baron invites you in. Additionally, he specifically requested that you enter alone, without the companion by your side. This is the rule of our trade here.”
Hearing this, Celia's mind went blank for a brief moment.
The companion by her side? Did she mean her clone, Solana? The other party had actually managed to detect her presence despite the concealment black robe...
Perhaps the other party possesses some kind of sensory ability that can pinpoint Solana's location, Celia surmised.
Or they might even have some means specifically targeted at her clone!
Would there be danger inside? If she sent her clone in first, it would break the rules of the trade.
Should she go in herself, then? But she was unwilling to leave empty-handed!
After weighing her options, she decided to go in and try her luck. After all, she still had 50 spirituality points left, which allowed for one death rewind. Going inside might even yield more valuable information.
How strange. For some reason, such a reckless, gambling thought had popped into her head out of nowhere.
Taking a deep breath, Celia quietly hid the lantern inside her black robe before pushing open the iron door.
In contrast to the filth outside, the interior was very clean. Looking in, Celia saw a set of classical sofas, a chandelier, and a carved wooden table. On the table lay a sigil printed with a mason's pattern and a parchment manuscript. Beside it stood a display shelf packed with various collectibles.
Two men sat on the sofa. One had silver hair and blue eyes, with a slight curl to his lips. He wore a brown woolen robe and looked like a noble. The other was much more plainly dressed, wearing only a coarse cotton-linen shirt.
Upon seeing Celia, the silver-haired man on the sofa immediately stood up, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed slightly, performing a flawless noble salute.
“Respected Lady Saintess, I am Vincent Claire. Welcome to my underground trading post.”
“You know my identity?” Celia asked in surprise.
“It is merely my ability. As a Rank One Astrologer of the Destiny pathway, I can sense your movements, Saintess, and foresee your arrival. Does this explanation satisfy you?”
The Destiny pathway? Able to foresee her movements?
Celia nodded slightly, but she did not fully believe the man's words.
“Then let us return to our previous topic. According to the report from my attendant just now, you require some spiritual items, correct?” Vincent asked, his tone still unhurried.
“Yes, that is correct,” Celia replied softly.
“Lady Saintess, I must first apologize for any offense caused by pointing out your identity so directly. Please forgive me, but I believe this might allow us to be more open with each other.”
As he spoke, Vincent walked past the display shelves filled with rare treasures, took down an intricately carved bronze mirror from the top shelf, and said:
“I have a spiritual item here that can help you peer into a corner of fate. Perhaps it will be of some assistance to you.”
Vincent offered the bronze mirror, but Celia did not reach out for it. Instead, she asked, “What must I pay in return?”
“The Lady Saintess is indeed sharp.”
He tilted the bronze mirror slightly, lowering his eyes as Celia's reflection was captured perfectly on its surface.
“Our requirement is actually very simple. We only need you to provide us with a single drop of your blood.”
“Blood? What do you want my blood for?”
Noticing Vincent's movement, Celia took a slight step back, intentionally avoiding the mirror's line of sight. One of her hands slipped into her robe, ready to pull out the lantern at any moment.
She did not know the details of this bronze mirror, but she felt it was definitely not as simple as merely predicting fate!
“Of course, perhaps this might seem like a desecration to you, but since you have come here, you must have been prepared to pay some sort of price...”
As he spoke, Vincent's pupils suddenly turned crimson!
Sensing danger, Celia hurriedly activated her ability, plunging Vincent into a brief daze. At the same time, she turned on the lantern, placed it on the floor, and immediately took control of her clone outside, attempting to have her break down the door.
To her dismay, the iron door behind her remained completely motionless. Only a faint thudding sound could be heard, and not even a sliver of flame could seep through!
At that exact moment, the other man sitting on the sofa lunged forward, his speed so fast he left afterimages. He snatched the lantern and shut it off, completely unaffected by its power!
“What?!” Celia's expression changed dramatically.
Just then, Vincent's mocking voice rang out, and Celia looked toward him.
“Hehe, Lady Saintess, what a pity. I do not know where you obtained a spiritual item of the Demon pathway, but unfortunately, I happen to have a Beyonder of the Demon pathway right here with me...”
The Demon pathway?!
Turning her head, Celia saw the man who had just snatched the lantern. His eyes were gradually turning pitch black. In that instant, Celia felt her mind suffer some form of contamination, and she clutched her eyes in agony.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Vincent quietly aimed the bronze mirror at her again, his words never pausing:
“Furthermore, long before you arrived at the underground trading post, I had already sealed that iron door with a Crafter's Sigil. Without my permission, no Beyonder below Rank Two can enter.”
A Crafter's Sigil...
Before she could recover from the mental contamination, hearing yet another unfamiliar term made Celia's mind grow even more chaotic.
At that moment, a sharp pain suddenly shot from her heart. Looking down, she was shocked to find beads of crimson blood seeping from her chest!
When did this happen?!
Simultaneously, the blood dripped down, and a sudden red glow erupted on the floor as a bizarre blood array materialized out of thin air!
The red light instantly exploded in the depths of her mind. She suddenly felt her brain grow groggy, her thoughts slowing down as a deep craving for blood gradually crept into her heart.
So thirsty...
Blood... Was there any blood...
She was so thirsty, so thirsty...
She tried her best to suppress the bloodlust, but it only became harder to bear. Under the assault of this intense thirst, she felt the veins across her entire body burning furiously, her sanity being swallowed bit by bit by this insatiable hunger.
Whether by coincidence or not, her gaze caught her reflection in the bronze mirror held by the man. She saw her hair gradually turning silver-white, and her originally purple eyes were stained with a touch of blood-red.
“The time for the blood array has arrived, and the blood sacrifice is complete. Lady Saintess, the contract is sealed.” Vincent's voice drifted over once more, sounding like the echo of a demon.
A blood array? A contract?
What contract...
But before she could think any further, a chilling cold slowly crept into her limbs and bones.
Ultimately, she could no longer support her increasingly cold body and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Her consciousness faded, blurring further and further until her vision plunged completely into darkness.
Seeing the girl's eyes grow hollow, the man beside Vincent suddenly asked, “Do you intend to turn her into a blood thrall as well?”
“Of course. Won't that make it much easier to accomplish our grand plan?” Vincent could no longer conceal the fanatical gleam in his eyes.
“After all...”
“It is all for our great Scarlet Mother!”
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