Chapter 83

Chapter 83. This Is the Price (3)

A cute bat with white fur.

Even without touching it, you could tell it had a heavenly softness. Its innocent, pure red eyes sparkled like rubies.

No one was unaware of that living being.

“Th-the Red Comet?”

Cork was the first to speak.

Though it looked adorable, it perfectly matched the appearance of the Red Comet from the wanted posters.

Was it just a similar-looking, different individual? Do all vampires look like this?

“Kyuuut!”

As the white bat vigorously spread its wings, Cork and the mercenaries flinched.

Flap, flap.

The white bat flew up and landed on Keter’s shoulder.

Nuzzle, nuzzle.

The white bat nuzzled its head against Keter’s cheek, acting cute.

An incomprehensible sound came from Cork’s mouth.

“Oh? Ooh, ooooh?”

What was the demon sealed here?

A transcendent species, a vampire, that had enslaved hundreds of thousands of humans as livestock. Not just any vampire, but the first vampire, Elije!

“Why are you acting cute with Keter?! I’m the one who woke you up!”

In response to Cork’s scream, Keter stroked Elije’s chin and answered instead.

“Because it’s my pet. Right, Jjokjjok?”

Elije, the first vampire, let out a charming cry, as if understanding.

Cork and his subordinates had no idea what was going on, but Keter roughly understood how it had come to this.

‘There’s a slight crack in the common ceiling.’

The seal of the Red Comet had already been broken long ago. Because of that crack in the ceiling.

Elije, who had risen to the surface, met Keter and was raised by him. It was a simple and ironic story.

“So, your name was Elije. But isn’t Jjokjjok better?”

“Kyuu!”

Elije nodded as if it didn’t matter.

As Keter and Jjokjjok communicated, Cork’s body trembled as if it would burst. With his last hope shattered, Cork pointed and screamed.

“What the hell are you, Keter! Why are you taking everything from me! Just because of some trivial thing from when we were kids, why are you doing this to me!”

“Who are you to call someone else’s dream trivial? The moment you trampled on someone else’s dream, you should’ve been prepared to have your own dream trampled. Why are you acting like you’re the victim?”

“People don’t die just because they can’t be mercenaries! Your petty dream and mine are different in scale from the start!”

“That’s your belief. If you want to force your beliefs on others, you need the strength and brains to back it up. Seems like you forgot that.”

“Y-you bastard. How can a human….”

“Guess it’s time for you to die. In Ruquer, being called trash is a compliment, you know.”

This world is all about power.

Especially here, in Ruquer.

“Survival of the fittest, Cork. The survivors move forward, the dead are left behind. Here, it’s me who’s moving forward, not you.”

Keter summoned Amaranth and delivered Cork’s death sentence.

Seeing the black bow, Amaranth, Cork saw it as the embodiment of ‘death.’ He screamed toward Elije, his last lifeline.

“Demon Elije! I’m the one who broke your seal! Make a contract with me! Kill Keter! My body, my soul. I’ll give you everything, just kill Keter!”

His voice echoed with desperation.

Elije, sensitive to sound, covered its ears with its wings and turned its head toward Cork.

Swish.

Jjokjjok’s wings spread and then folded. Cork tried to urge Elije again, but for some reason, no sound came out.

‘What’s going on? Why can’t I speak? And why am I falling backward?’

Thud, roll, roll.

‘Ah….’

Cork, seeing his torso falling forward, realized too late. That his neck and body had been separated.

The slash was too fast and clean, he hadn’t even realized he’d been cut.

‘Fuck.’

That was his last thought.

Cork, a Diamond Class mercenary who had entered Ruquer to become the Mercenary King. He had sacrificed the blood of thousands to obtain artifacts, and in the end, even he became an offering.

His corpse, having lost even its soul, dried up instantly upon death, becoming a mummy.

Keter crouched in front of Cork’s head. He placed a gold coin between his teeth and muttered.

“This is the price.”

Keter stretched his arms upward as if stretching.

“Ah, refreshing. Nothing feels as good as perfect revenge.”

Though physically tired, Keter’s face bloomed with a smile, mentally satisfied.

Jjokjjok yawned loudly, as if to show it was sleepy. Keter put Jjokjjok in his chest pocket and said.

“Take a nap.”

Then, two mercenaries knelt and shouted.

“W-we surrender. We have no intention of opposing you. Please spare our lives.”

“Same here. If you’re angry, do as you please… but please don’t kill us.”

They had already surrendered to Keter before.

But now they were completely subdued. Keter, who had the ancient demon Elije by his side, didn’t seem like the same person.

They say people become merciful when they’re happy. Keter smiled kindly and placed his hands on their shoulders.

“Only the one who tells me what Cork was doing here gets to live.”

Revenge is revenge, but Keter couldn’t resist treasure.

* * *

The mercenaries led Keter to a blood-absorbing door.

They explained, spitting as they spoke, how Cork had discovered it and how he had sacrificed thousands to open it.

A normal person would’ve felt nauseous just hearing the explanation. A door that had consumed the blood of thousands. It was beyond unpleasant, downright disgusting.

But Keter looked at the half-filled orb with interest.

“So, if I pour blood on this door, the orb turns red, and when it’s full, the door opens?”

“Yes.”

“It looks almost full. How many more people would it take to fill it?”

“Not sure… but at least 300.”

“Hmm. It’s really almost there.”

Keter stroked his chin.

What kind of treasure would come from a place that had consumed the blood of thousands?

“It’s not going to be a holy sword, is it?”

It was likely to be cursed artifacts like Apophis, Obelisk, or Amaranth.

Keter had subdued Amaranth and was using it comfortably, but that was a special case.

Most artifacts, including cursed ones, used the power of Ain as their core, driving their owners insane or taking over their minds. Keter, however, knew how to handle Ain’s power, so he wasn’t dominated.

Jairo, who wielded Obelisk, had to constantly drink a potent liquor to stay sane, and even that was considered a lucky case.

Usually, people either became slaughterers, had their bodies taken over, or coexisted in a contract until they met their doom.

In many ways, cursed weapons were hard to handle and rarely brought good outcomes.

“But there’s no shortage of people willing to buy them.”

As Keter acted like he wanted the artifact, a mercenary subtly suggested.

“…Should we capture some lone Ruquerians like Cork did? We could fill it in a week if we hurry.”

Whack!

Keter smacked the back of the mercenary’s head and clicked his tongue.

“Like master, like servant.”

“Ugh, aren’t you trying to get the artifact? Destroying the door or breaking the wall is impossible. Even using Aura won’t leave a scratch. We’ve already tried.”

“You said just offering blood is enough, right? Then why sacrifice lives, you idiots.”

“Ah.”

If Cork hadn’t been so greedy to keep it all to himself, this seal would’ve been incredibly easy to break.

The offering was ‘blood,’ not ‘life.’

Besides, wasn’t Cork the branch manager overseeing hundreds of mercenaries? He could’ve just taken blood from them as offerings. Drawing blood doesn’t kill people. They’d recover in a day.

If he had sold the cursed artifacts obtained that way to improve the mercenaries’ welfare, who wouldn’t have volunteered to give blood? Everyone would’ve gladly donated.

“But you know, the value of blood varies from person to person, right?”

“Yes. For example, if a normal human’s blood is worth 1 portion, an Aura user’s blood is worth 10 portions.”

“What about non-human races? Like elves or beastmen? Have you tried them?”

“When we used a half-elf as an offering, it was worth 100 portions.”

“Hoh.”

A half-elf, a hybrid of human and elf, is worth 100 times a normal human?

Keter felt ‘curiosity’ about how the value of blood varied depending on its owner.

“Then how much is my blood worth?”

Unable to resist his curiosity, Keter drew a dagger and lightly sliced his palm. As blood welled up, Jjokjjok on his shoulder licked its lips.

“Jjokjjok. I’ll give you some later, so behave.”

Calming Jjokjjok, Keter approached the door.

The mercenaries awkwardly smiled and said.

“Kete… Branch Manager. That small amount won’t even make a difference. You need to fill a bowl and pour it to get any reaction.”

“Jjokjjok here won’t let me waste my blood like that.”

Ignoring the mercenaries, Keter scattered his blood toward the door.

The door absorbed Keter’s blood.

And then, silence.

“I told you. That amount won’t get any reaction……”

Kugugugugung!

Suddenly, the entire labyrinth shook. As if an earthquake had struck.

The mercenaries, unable to keep their balance, fell one after another, while Keter steadied himself against the wall.

“Ugh, ahhh! The labyrinth is collapsing!”

“The demon must be angry! Quickly, bow and apologize, Branch Manager!”

As rubble and chunks fell from the ceiling, the mercenaries screamed.

They didn’t see it.

As Keter scattered his blood, the orb embedded in the door turned a perfect blood-red.

A handful of Keter’s blood was worth over 300 portions.

“Hoh.”

Keter had expected it.

His blood wasn’t ordinary. His father was the pinnacle of humanity, and his mother was presumed to be a god.

But suddenly, Keter felt a doubt.

‘Hmm, if I have such an amazing lineage, shouldn’t I have some kind of special ability?’

Of course, Keter had been different from others since childhood. He was born with a strong body and exceptional recovery.

But that alone didn’t make him ‘amazing.’

His learned ‘regeneration’ and ‘medical’ skills were even more outstanding. His body, forged through life-and-death battles, was even stronger.

Keter, who had grown stronger through effort rather than innate abilities, had never felt his lineage was extraordinary.

‘Well, if I don’t have it, I’ll live without it.’

Not everyone with an amazing lineage has special abilities. Only the chosen ones among them possess such powers.

For example, like Luke.

Keter, uninterested in what he couldn’t have, stopped his thoughts and focused on the opening door. The tremors that seemed about to collapse the labyrinth had subsided.

Inside the door was a vast cavern, with a skull altar towering in the center.

At the top of the altar, emanating an intense presence, was a blood sword.

The cross-shaped blood sword pulsed with a noble presence even in the darkness.

[Come to me.]

A strange voice echoed in Keter’s mind. It was an irresistible, sweetly tempting voice.

[Grasp the flame of life.]

Keter, as if entranced, began walking toward the altar. The intervals between the voice grew shorter.

[Receive the blessing of Dracula, the father of life.]

[Swear to me as the Knight of Blood.]

[I will grant you immortality.]

[The glory of the mythic era will be reenacted.]

The voice whispered incessantly.

Before he knew it, Keter had climbed to the top of the altar and finally stood face to face with the blood sword.

[Draw me, grasp me. You are worthy.]

Swish.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Keter reached for the blood sword’s hilt.

And then—

Slap!

He smacked the hilt with his palm.

“Shut up, you’re annoying.”