Chapter 258: Chapter 258 Secret Talks in the Haunted House_1
After feeding nearly twenty demonic bullets into the body of the Death God’s agent and riddling him with holes, Aiden finally stopped his assault.
The agent lay motionless on the ground, lacking even the strength to crawl.
Only now was Aiden convinced that his opponent had lost the ability to resist. When he had fallen from the sky, the agent hadn’t opened the portal to the underworld in time to buy himself some time, which suggested that his "necromantic" powers had likely reached their limit.
Kael caused the black bat mist scattered on the ground to vaporize and summoned it to his body, filling the large wounds and replacing his lost organs. Then he redressed, wiping his neck and shivering with pain.
The severe burns caused by Holy Water covered half of his face and his entire back. The Holy Water the warden had brought out was seriously effective, but fortunately for Kael, compared to the agent whose vitals had been directly eroded by Holy Water, his injuries could still be considered superficial.
His immortality only ensured he would not die, but it did not allow his wounds to heal naturally. To recover from his injured state, he needed an extra supply of blood.
Of course, the same was true for the agent lying there; the damage from the demonic bullets and Holy Water accumulated within his body would not heal without a blood replenishment.
"Kael, can you do me a favor and carry this guy into the prison?" Aiden looked at Kael. "This guy can probably still use the ’Death’s Touch’ ability – even touching him with gloves on feels dangerous."
With all the commotion here, the Inquisition’s Judges patrolling this area should arrive soon.
But considering the powers the agent possessed, he needed to be dealt with beforehand to ensure a safe transfer.
And before handing him over to the Inquisition, Aiden wanted to interrogate him.
"Come on Warden, at least half of my wounds are from you, and you have the nerve to ask a seriously injured guy like me to do such heavy work..." Kael shook his head and spread his hands. "You really know how to treat people, don’t you?"
"Sorry about that, I only thought of this method just now..." Aiden, sensing Kael’s dissatisfaction, raised his hand and patted his shoulder. "There’s blood stored in the prison, drink some to heal your wounds first."
"Is that it?" Kael scoffed.
"Well, how about... all the bounty for capturing this prisoner goes to you?" Aiden offered another compensation plan.
"If you can arrange a meeting with Ophelia for me, we can call it even for what just happened." Kael quickly set his terms.
"..." Aiden paused for a moment, realizing that the vampire had already prepared this condition.
"Come on, pal, I just saved your life!" Kael seized the opportunity to negotiate, "What’s there to hesitate about?"
"Alright, tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, I can arrange the paperwork and end Ophelia’s observation period early. You can visit her as normal." Aiden sighed with relief. "After all, your foolish little sister has shown some commendable performance today."
"What performance?" Now it was Kael’s turn to be stunned.
"We’ll talk about it later." Aiden gestured dismissively.
If he hadn’t possessed Ophelia’s left hand, he would have never realized the assassination attempt against Veronica in time.
In that regard, Ophelia truly deserved some credit.
"Fine then, solving two annoying problems at once, not a bad night’s luck." Kael rolled up his sleeves.
...
Meanwhile, on the border of the Nidhogg Kingdom, deep within the forest, there lay a secluded manor.
A pale-skinned old man was entertaining a visitor in his abode.
"I truly regret that I have no refreshments to offer you. Since becoming this cursed form, the only thing I can consume is blood," the old man said apologetically.
"Not to worry, I’m actually quite surprised that you would prepare such fine tea for a guest," the young woman sitting opposite the old man said as she set down her teacup and adjusted the veil on her face.
"It’s a lingering hobby from before I passed away, although now I can’t enjoy the fragrance of tea as the living do," the old man lamented. "Consider it... a remembrance of the past. Even if it’s just for one day, I would like to reclaim the pleasures of the living."
"...and the authority of a ruler," the woman added. "To claim that you wish to find peace, the progenitor of the vampires seems to have more of a sense of humor than I expected. As a ’Death’ Saint, you inevitably sense the location of ’Death’s’ authority. If you wanted to die, you could simply challenge Death itself. You actually dream of seizing that authority back, don’t you?"
The old man was silent for a moment before speaking. "Indeed, authority, pleasure – mortal or divine, that’s pretty much what’s worth chasing."
"Then we have a basis for cooperation," the woman seamlessly continued. "I can continue to help you."
The old man lifted his teacup with an expressionless face—his cup was filled with fresh blood: "If I recall correctly, not many who have received your help ended well. And everything you have done before was not for my sake."
"It seems you don’t like me very much," the woman said with a grin.
"No, to tell you the truth, I’m grateful to you. That Thanatos has become what it is today is thanks to you; you have given me a chance to turn my fate around..." the old man said slowly, "but..."
"But what?"
"But, what is the price?" the old man asked, looking into her eyes, his own eyes emitting a chilling red glow, "Who can guarantee that the one who wrests ’Death’s’ authority from Thanatos’s grasp will be me and not you? Even if I do obtain the authority in the end, who can ensure that I won’t follow in his footsteps?"
"Rest assured, at least for now, I have not even the slightest interest in ’Death’s’ authority. Even if it came into my possession, I couldn’t assimilate it," the woman said, smiling. "Your current ambition is merely to use that authority to lift your curse. At least at this stage... I don’t plan to do anything to you."
A prolonged silence followed, the dim manor eerily quiet, like a tomb.
At last, the old man spoke: "What do you hope to gain?"
"Tell me where the Wordless Code is located. It was once in your possession, wasn’t it?"
"That authority is not something you can assimilate either," the old man squinted his eyes.
"I’m not planning to assimilate it myself. I’m thinking of gifting it to someone," the woman explained, raising a finger.
"Are you planning to make some sort of deal?"
"No, no compensation, just a game."
"A game!?" The old man’s eyes widened, completely unable to understand.
"Did you not just say it yourself? The things that gods and men pursue are not fundamentally different." Her voice, muffled by the veil, was filled with cheerful laughter. "That is precisely the pleasure that I seek."
