Chapter 649: Visiting Ebonhollow Village
Thud!
The massive ice door creaked open with a chilling groan, revealing Victor stepping through.
Alfred, who had been standing outside patiently, immediately straightened and bowed his head in respect.
"Mortimer is resting after our long negotiation," Victor stated coldly, his tone sharp and unyielding as he strode past Alfred without even sparing him a glance. "You'd better not disturb him."
Alfred kept his gaze fixed on Victor's retreating back, his heart still pounding from the tension. 'Thank goodness he's alive. Who knows what would have happened if anything had gone wrong...' he thought, exhaling a long, quiet sigh of relief. He hesitated, glancing toward the open door before cautiously stepping inside.
Mortimer sat motionless on the grand ice throne, his eyes shut, his entire body leaning heavily against the frigid surface.
Alfred frowned, unease creeping up his spine. He moved closer, his voice trembling slightly as he called out, "Master? Are you alright?"
There was no response.
Mortimer remained eerily still, his expression unreadable, his head slightly tilted back.
Alfred's unease deepened. His frown etched itself harder across his face as he took another hesitant step forward. His voice grew more desperate, "M-Master... Are you okay? Can you he--?"
"Arrmm..."
The sudden groan from Mortimer broke the silence, startling Alfred.
He froze, blinking rapidly before letting out a shaky breath. "Ah... Looks like you really needed rest," he muttered, almost as if reassuring himself. He straightened, forcing a nod.
"It must have been an intense negotiation. Only someone like you could handle it..." His voice trailed off as he turned on his heels, convinced his Master needed no interruptions.... just long rest.
Quietly, Alfred exited the room, closing the door behind him.
Thud!
But what Alfred failed to notice...
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Mortimer's skin began to ripple grotesquely, starting from his forehead as if invisible insects were burrowing underneath.
His face contorted, his features twisting in pain as his entire body convulsed violently. "Arrhmm," he groaned through gritted teeth, his hands twitching involuntarily. The motion spread across his form, something unnatural and... sinister shifting just beneath his flesh.
Yet, he couldn't move or speak!
....
...
"I am going with you!!" Selene shouted, her voice ringing with determination as she clung to Victor's body like a stubborn koala, her arms wrapped tightly around him, refusing to let go.
Victor sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, "Sel," he began, his voice soft but firm, "believe me, I'll be back in a few days. You have my word." He gently patted her back, trying to soothe her.
Selene's lips pressed into a pout, her gaze narrowing suspiciously, "You said that last time, and then you went off and pulled something reckless without even telling me! Now you're going to the village where you grew up, and you expect me to just sit here and wait? No way!"
Victor chuckled softly, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes despite the seriousness of the situation, "You know me too well, don't you?" he said, shaking his head. "But trust me, Sel, this isn't a place you can come to. It's dangerous. The guardian monsters protecting the Alter... or the Ebon Stone... they're not something to take lightly"
As much he love to take her.... but that place, who knows what it might hold after all this years... he couldn't playa round.
Selene's expression didn't budge..... She was unconvinced, and Victor could see it.
He sighed again, leaning in closer. "Listen," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, "your safety is my priority. I need you here. I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on things, especially the old man.... What if he tried to do something behind my back? You are the only one I trust"
Her resolve faltered slightly, her arms loosening their grip. "But..." she muttered, her voice trailing off.
Victor smiled gently and handed her a small snowflake, "Here. Take this," he said. "Play with her for a while... and teach her some manners, will you? Tell her not to try and eat everyone she meets."
"What?" Snowflake blinked in confusion.
Before she could finish, Victor disappeared in a flash.
Meanwhile,
Victor materialized near an old, crumbling building.
The structure stood in ruins, its skeletal frame barely holding together. Once, it had been a place of unspeakable atrocities—a slave auction house.
Victor sighed, glancing around. For some reason, teleporting directly to the village was impossible.
!~Ding~!
[Warning: Restricted Area. Cannot Teleport.]
The notification still echoed in his mind. This desolate spot was the closest he could get, forcing him to traverse the rest of the way on foot.
"So much for convenience," he muttered under his breath, kicking a stray stone aside as he started down the familiar path. His gaze lingered briefly on the ruins. "The old bastard sure knows how to keep secrets... ah."
He shook his head, recalling how Mortimer had obliterated the slave building upon reclaiming Aether.... It was a strategic move to prevent the Empress from uncovering any trace of what had transpired there.
"Haha..." Victor let out a dry chuckle, an amused expression flickering across his face as he continued walking, taking in the desolate scenery around him.
The area was eerily quiet, with hardly anyone in sight. Only a few decrepit old buildings stood here and there, resembling abandoned inns or hotels.
As he strolled, his thoughts drifted back to a peculiar moment—when he had nearly been poisoned to death by none other than his beloved.
She had fed him something so bizarre that it couldn't even be recognized as food.
Victor's lips twitched in a mix of disbelief and amusement at the memory.
But what had truly shocked him wasn't the near-death experience—it was the skill he had received afterwards.
Rather than a reward, he got the skill by himself.... Poison Resistance as the name implies... This skill made him immune to all poisons.
Yet, when he had tried to recreate the circumstances to activate it again, nothing happened.
'Is there a specific condition for this skill?' Victor pondered, his brows furrowing. 'Could it have something to do with my blood? But why isn't it working now?'
He had tried everything—replicating the exact steps, even using his blood as before—but it remained unresponsive.
'I am missing something there.... ' He thought as he walked, lost in thought.
Suddenly, his train of thought was interrupted as two familiar peaks came into view.
Victor's expression shifted, his face growing serious.
He quickened his pace.... Soon, he arrived at a vast grassy plain.
At its entrance stood a lone tree...
This was the tree where the villagers had once found him. A deep sense of nostalgia washed over Victor as he approached it.
But just as he arrived at the tree.... he looked up.... and froze in terror!!!
His eyes widened in shock.
"What the fuck..." Victor muttered under his breath, his voice low and disbelieving.
The village was gone. Completely and utterly destroyed.
The homes, the paths, the fields—everything had been reduced to rubble and ash. Not a single structure remained intact.
The sight of utter devastation made Victor's chest tighten as he instinctively moved forward, his eyes scanning for any signs of life.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" Victor called out, his voice echoing through the empty, ruined expanse as he wandered through the wreckage.
Ssssshhh.
Only the cold wind answered him, whispering through the barren landscape like a ghostly lament.
Victor frowned as he approached a particular broken structure—a house he knew all too well.
It was his home. Or at least, what used to be his home.
The roof was gone, and the walls were crumbling into dust. Inside, there was nothing but blackened ashes, remnants of a fire that seemed to have consumed everything.... he moved inside to check.
Yet, there was nothing. No blood, no bones, no remnants of life. It was as if the village had been abandoned long before its destruction.
"This doesn't make any sense," Victor muttered to himself, shaking his head in frustration. "What the hell happened here in just a few years?"
The breeze offered no answers, only a chilling emptiness. Victor sighed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if nothing else, I need to retrieve the body of the Origin bloodline," he said, his voice quiet yet resolute, as he turned in a particular direction.
The Origin Bloodline?
Of course, he was referring to the old lady—the one from whom he had taken the ring. She had to be connected to the Origin Bloodline, one way or another. Victor had buried her body here himself, and now he intended to dig it up.
Or so he thought.
"What in the..." Victor's voice trailed off as he came to a halt.
The grave was empty!
He blinked, staring at the dug earth in disbelief.
The spot where he had buried her was now nothing more than an already-dug-out patch of dirt.... The body was gone so did his own black ring!!
Victor's mind raced as he crouched down, inspecting the ground. 'Who could have done this? And why?'
Just as he was piecing the puzzle together,
"Looks like someone's already beaten you to it," an authoritative voice echoed from behind him.
Victor didn't flinch or react in surprise. Instead, he stood slowly and turned around, his expression calm yet guarded.
There she was—Empress Marisandra Naiadia, her piercing gaze locked onto him, a playful yet unsettling smirk tugging at her lips.