I Became the Progenitor Vampire

Chapter 174 - 175: I Have a Golden Race Juvenile...
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Chapter 174: Chapter 175: I Have a Golden Race Juvenile…

“Viscount Bernard, I need the blood of the Golden Race. Please, you must help me,”

Grot knelt on one knee before Viscount Bernard, this Northern Warrior who dared to charge into tenfold and hundredfold enemies was now utterly humble.

For the future of the North, the warrior who would never bend even when pierced by a heavy sword, lowered his proud head time and time again.

Viscount Bernard gave his Guard Commander a deep look and shook his head.

“Grot, you should know what kind of existence the Golden Race is. If you could have the ability to hunt an Extraordinary Level giant dragon, I might be able to tell you about a Fire Element Giant Dragon.

But now, you cannot even defeat me…

...

I can’t help you.”

Grot opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he sighed in despair.

An Extraordinary Level giant dragon…

It wasn’t that he lacked the courage to face a giant dragon, but he didn’t have the strength to defeat one.

Though fearless of danger, he was no mindless brute.

“I will use all the power of the Dark Contract to search for the Golden Race for you, but right now, our goal should be the Twelve Magic Scrolls.

Grot, Divine Artifacts possess unimaginable power, and I think perhaps they could solve the difficulty you’re facing now,”

Upon hearing this, a complex expression crossed Grot’s face and he sighed in resignation.

“Thank you for your help. The North will forever hold it dear in our hearts.”

He stood up and pounded his fist heavily against his chest.

When he left Viscount Bernard’s residence, Grot’s face still bore an unsolvable weight.

The power of Divine Artifacts was unimaginable, but he didn’t think even the Twelve Magic Scrolls could restore the life that had been drained.

Only the blood of the Golden Race could cure the Northern Valkyrie.

So he must get the blood of the Golden Race within three months.

This challenge was perhaps no simpler than hunting an Extraordinary Existence.

Was there really no hope at all?

Would the Northern Royal Family, which he had traded for with the horn of the glorious Northern Dragon Rhinoceros, just like the North’s glory, leave him far behind?

His black eyes were full of confusion.

This Northern Warrior could no longer see the road to the future.

“Good day, Lord Grot,” just then, a voice with a hint of mirth came from beside him.

Grot turned his head, his eyes showing a bit of surprise at the newcomer.

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“Good day, Lord Emi.”

Before, he had little to do with Emi, mainly because he had always looked down on Emi’s profession as a Shadow Priest.

True bravery should be charging directly at a giant dragon, not skulking in shadows like a disgusting rat.

But now, Emi, who had become a level 15 Shadow High Priest, was worthy enough to speak to him.

So at that moment, Grot was a bit baffled by the other’s broad smile.

“Lord Grot, perhaps I have what you’re seeking,”

Grot frowned at the burning gaze in Emi’s eyes.

“Are you sure, Lord Emi? What I need now is the blood of the Golden Race. Can you produce it?”

There was a hint of mockery in his tone. If even Viscount Bernard did not have it, how could a rat, who had been chased by a low-ranking bishop from the Knight Temple around the streets not too long ago, have it?

Unexpectedly, the Shadow High Priest didn’t get angry, instead, he took out a crystal bottle the size of a small pinky from his pocket. Inside swirled a few drops of blood, tinged with a faint golden hue.

Upon seeing this, Grot’s eyes widened in disbelief at the transparent crystal bottle.

The faint golden liquid in the bottle radiated energy brimming with life; he swore it was the most vibrant blood he had ever seen, even more than any Extraordinary Life blood.

It far surpassed even the Holy Water in the Life Goddess’ temple that had been blessed by the goddess herself!

A chilling name came to mind for Grot.

The Golden Race!!

Grot, who had been near despair, was now overwhelmed by immense surprise.

The Golden Race! He had actually, truly found the Golden Race!

This was a High-level Life form, on par with a giant dragon!

“Lord Emi, please forgive my presumption and ignorance. I swear to the War God, it was not my intention…” Grot’s tone, anxious and thrilled, held not a trace of haughtiness as he apologized to Emi.

This Northern Warrior had lost all his former pride.

“Respected Grote, I’ve come to trade with you,”

Emi spoke with a hint of amusement in her tone, apparently undisturbed by Grote’s rudeness.

Hearing this, Grote hurriedly asked,

“Emi, do you really have the blood of the Golden Race? I’m willing to trade with you.”

“Mr. Grote, this is blood I obtained from the Golden Race just this morning,”

Emi extended his hand and passed the crystal bottle to Grote.

Feeling the rich life essence about to burst forth at close quarters, Grote was visibly excited.

“How much must I pay to acquire it?”

He naturally referred to the Golden Race.

Emi shook his head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Grote, but the Golden Race is not for sale.”

Grote’s face suddenly changed, but the rest of Emi’s statement somewhat eased his mind.

“This youngling of the Golden Race was something I acquired unintentionally at the Beastman border. I suppose no one knows better than you how precious the Golden Race is.

Therefore, no matter the price, I am not willing to sell, but some blood is not a big issue,”

Emi said with a broad smile.

“I also hope to win your friendship with this gesture, and as for the price to obtain the blood,

I want a Northern treasure—the Secret Silver Armor.”

Grote’s expression changed slightly upon hearing this. He hadn’t expected Emi, a spellcaster, to choose such a treasure.

The Secret Silver Armor was not as precious as the Northern Dragon Rhinoceros Horn, but it was his most important piece of life-saving innerwear.

The Secret Silver Armor, forged by Dwarf master craftsmen from Mithril, Fine Gold, Underground Cold Iron, Heart of Magma, and other rare materials, was truly a priceless treasure. Grote had fought in the Northern lands for twenty years in his youth, and this armor had saved him at least thirty times.

Losing this treasure, Grote felt his strength would drop by two levels.

“Of course, if you’re unwilling, then forget it. I swear to the Magic Goddess that I…”

Grote showed a hint of reluctance but still nodded firmly.

“No, Emi, I agree.”

The bloodline of the Northern Royal Family must not end here; the future North needs a king.

He had already given up the honor of the North—the Northern Dragon Rhinoceros Horn. He did not mind sacrificing another precious Secret Silver Armor for the sake of the North.

Although it may well be the most treasured possession he was loath to part with.

When Emi received the intricately carved Secret Silver Armor that weighed only ten pounds and shone with a unique bright silver light, his face was filled with a thick smile.

“Mr. Grote, you should arrange for your men to escort the esteemed members of the Northern Royal Family and leave the city with me.”

“Leave the city?”

Grote frowned.

“Of course, you didn’t think I would keep the youngling of the Golden Race within Green City, did you?” Emi wore a peculiar expression.

“I don’t mind if you bring more men, in fact, after completing this trade, I plan to leave Green City to adventure in an Ancient Ruin.

It may be ten or twenty years before I return, and by then, I think I will try to break through to the Extraordinary level,” Emi’s eyes conveyed an almost uncontrollable frenzy.

Grote watched with some disdain. These damned spellcasters were always trying to find shortcuts through ancient ruins to gain lost magic and reach Transcendence.

Emi seemed not to notice Grote’s openly disdainful expression and continued, “If it wasn’t for that ruin being too dangerous, needing an armor capable of withstanding strong attacks, I wouldn’t have revealed the existence of the Golden Race.

Their importance, I guess, needs no further explanation.”

Emi’s tone carried a hint of regret, as if he was at a considerable loss in this deal.

Grote relaxed a bit upon hearing this.

His initial caution almost entirely dissipated.

“No, I trust my old friend of twenty years, Emi. I only need to bring a team of Northern Warriors.”

Emi casually waved his hand, “No, I think you could bring several teams.”

Grote’s caution faded, and he nodded with a smile.

“As you wish.”

In fact, whether Emi agreed or not, he would have brought additional teams anyway; the inquiry was merely a probe.

And Emi’s response eased his mind, showing no ill intent. Otherwise, he would have tried to reduce the number of his assistants.

Emi watched Grote’s friendly gaze and cheered loudly in his heart.

Praise be to the Night Goddess, the wisdom of the Ancestor Crown could make the sun pale in comparison.

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