Chapter 229: Chapter 229

Chapter 258: Secret Talk in the Secluded Mansion

After feeding nearly twenty anti-magic bullets into the God of Death's Agent, riddling his body with holes, Aiden finally stopped. The Agent lay motionless on the ground, lacking even the strength to crawl. Aiden was now certain the opponent had lost all ability to resist. When falling from the sky earlier, the Agent hadn't opened the underworld gate in time to buy himself precious seconds; from this, it seemed his "Channeling" power had likely reached its limit as well.

Kyle controlled the scattered black bats on the ground to turn into mist, summoning them back to himself to fill the large wounds and replace lost organs. Afterward, he put his clothes back on, wiped his neck, and shivered in pain. Severe burns from the holy water covered half his face and his entire back. The effect of the holy water the Warden produced was truly potent. Fortunately, compared to the Agent whose vital core was directly corroded by holy water, his injuries could still be considered superficial. His immortality only ensured he wouldn't die, but it didn't allow his injuries to heal naturally; recovering from wounds required additional blood replenishment.

Of course, the same applied to the Agent lying there. The damage from the anti-magic bullets and holy water had accumulated within his body; without blood replenishment, his injuries wouldn't recover.

"Kyle, could you trouble yourself to help move this guy into the prison?" Aiden looked at Kyle. "This guy should still be able to use the 'Reaping' power. Even while wearing gloves, touching him feels dangerous."

Such a large commotion should soon attract the Inquisition Inquisitors patrolling the area. But considering the powers the Agent possessed, he couldn't be safely transferred without prior handling. Moreover, Aiden wanted to interrogate him before handing him over to the Inquisition. The rightful source is N0veI.Fiɾe.net

"Say, Warden, at least half my injuries were caused by you, and you still have the nerve to ask a heavily wounded person like me to do manual labor..." Kyle shook his head, spreading his hands. "You really know how to treat people, don't you?"

"Sorry about that, it was the only method I could think of..." Aiden sensed his dissatisfaction and patted Kyle's shoulder. "There's reserve blood in the prison. Go drink some to heal up first."

"That's it?" Kyle snorted.

"If you can arrange for me to meet Ophelia, we'll call it even for what happened just now," Kyle immediately stated his condition.

"..." Aiden paused, realizing the vampire before him had likely prepared this condition all along.

"Come on, bro, I just saved your life!" Kyle seized the opportunity to negotiate. "What's there to hesitate about?"

"Alright, tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, I can arrange the paperwork, end Ophelia's observation period early. You can visit her normally," Aiden let out a long breath. "After all, your foolish sister did contribute meritorious service today, in a way."

"Meritorious service?" Now it was Kyle's turn to be stunned.

"We'll talk details later," Aiden waved his hand dismissively. Without Ophelia's left hand, he couldn't possibly have detected the assassination attempt against Veronica in time. In that regard, Ophelia indeed deserved credit.

"Fine. Two troublesome matters settled at once. Guess tonight's luck wasn't too bad," Kyle rolled up his sleeves.

Meanwhile, on the border of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, in a secluded mansion deep within a forest.

A pale-skinned old man was entertaining a guest in his residence.

"My apologies, there are no snacks to offer you. Having become this cursed form, the only food I can ingest is blood," the old man said apologetically.

"No matter. I'm rather surprised you would prepare such fine black tea for a guest," the young woman sitting opposite the old man set down her teacup and adjusted the veil covering her face.

"A hobby left over from life. Though I can no longer enjoy the aroma of black tea like a living person," the old man sighed regretfully. "Consider it... nostalgia for the past. Even if just for a day, I wish to reclaim the joys of being alive."

"...And the Authority of a Dominator," the woman added. "Claiming outwardly that you desire eternal rest... the Blood Progenitor has a greater sense of humor than I imagined. As a Saint of 'Death', you must sense the location of the 'Death' Authority. If you wish to die, you could simply challenge the God of Death directly. In truth, you dream of snatching the Authority back, don't you?"

The old man remained silent for a moment, then spoke: "Indeed. Authority, pleasure... whether human or god, the things worth pursuing are only so many."

"Then we have a basis for cooperation," the woman seamlessly continued. "I can continue to help you."

The old man picked up his teacup expressionlessly—his cup was filled with fresh red blood. "If my memory serves, few who have received your help seem to have met good ends. And everything you've done before wasn't for my benefit."

"Looks like you don't like me very much," the woman grinned.

"No, honestly, I am grateful to you. Thanatos ending up is thanks to you; you gave me a chance to turn things around..." the old man said slowly. "But..."

"But, what is the price?" The old man looked directly into her eyes, a chilling red light glinting within his own. "Who can guarantee that the one who ultimately snatches the 'Death' Authority from Thanatos will be me, and not you? Even if I obtain the Authority in the end, who can guarantee I won't follow in his footsteps?"

"Rest assured. At least for now, I haven't the slightest interest in the 'Death' Authority. Even if I got my hands on it, I couldn't digest it," the woman smiled. "Your current ambition is limited to using the Authority to lift your own curse. At least at this stage... I don't plan on doing anything to you."

A long silence descended. The dim, secluded mansion was deathly quiet, like a tomb.

Finally, the old man spoke: "What do you desire?"

"Tell me the whereabouts of the Codex Anverus. It passed through your hands in the past, did it not?"

"That Authority isn't something you can digest either," the old man narrowed his eyes.

"Not for myself. I plan to give it as a gift," the woman wagged a finger.

"What kind of transaction are you planning?"

"No, no payment. Just a game."

"A game!?" The old man's eyes widened in utter disbelief.

"Didn't you say it yourself just now? The things sought by gods and humans are not fundamentally different," from behind the veil, the woman let out a cheerful laugh. "This is the pleasure I seek."