Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 114 People in Hell (Part 1)

Yongxing City, somewhere.

It's painful.

The air here is cold and humid, which causes its skin to wrinkle, its limbs to become weak, its abdomen to shrivel, its lips to tremble, and its teeth to become dull.

Only the surrounding darkness gave it peace of mind.

It raised its right hand, trying to change its lying position, but accidentally bumped into the metal cage.

A sharp, stinging sensation shot through the skin that had just come into contact with the metal.

It opened its mouth and let out a meaningless, painful howl.

This damn cage.

The magical seal above is rigorous, meticulous, comprehensive, perfect, and without any loopholes—a standard product of the Alchemy Tower.

I don't know if it's a work from "Imprisonment Research Institute" or "Spell Lab".

It's probably the former.

In the now-extinct Alchemy Tower, only this long-declining sect would research such a single-function magical cage.

For example, this cage that is tightly locking it here.

It had endured such days for who knows how long, and had become numb to the passage of time. It even suspected that if things continued like this, one day it would forget even its own name.

They are fed once a month, given a fixed electric shock every month, and have to do tasks every moment.

In this situation, it began to miss its subject—it still remembers the pain of being cut off from the subject, and the heart-wrenching cries and screams coming from the subject's mind.

Even in the many days and nights that followed, when it was its turn to be cut open, the pain was nothing compared to the excruciating agony of being separated from the main body.

It really wants to... return to its original form.

If I remember correctly, the main body should be imprisoned in Triumph City—the damned capital of the human empire. The country has long been fragmented, leaving only a small piece of territory, which is extremely weak. Yet, those humans still shamelessly call themselves an empire.

Shouldn't the weak die?

Thinking of this, its somewhat muddled thoughts, which had been clouded by being imprisoned for an unknown period of time, suddenly stirred.

By the way, hasn't the main body sent anything from Triumph City for a while now? Nothing, neither letters nor items.

The connection between thought and the main subject seems to have been broken for some time?

Humans no longer use it?
Impossible. It doesn't believe those wicked humans would allow it or its subject to take a vacation—they would endlessly and relentlessly squeeze every last drop of its value out of it.

Could something have happened to the main body? This thought flashed through its mind.

No... Although the main body is also imprisoned, at least it is preserved intact in the Triumph City. The Empire knows its value, and the imperial prince even tried to communicate with the main body—but how could the proud main body respond to the trade request of a lowly human? So for now, they are only using themselves to communicate.

Although the empire is no longer as powerful as it once was, those humans will surely protect the main body. As long as the Triumph City is not destroyed overnight, the main body will be safe and sound.

One day... it will inevitably return to the main body... at which time it will become powerful again, just like before.

Then, it must carefully conceal itself, strengthen itself, and most importantly... find a way to restrain those magic users.

It never wanted to experience the humiliation of being captured, imprisoned, and enslaved again.

Especially that damned mage.

Giza Trillman... If the humans outside the cage hadn't recently brought up the name again, it would have almost forgotten about it.

It gritted its teeth in hatred—it would never forget the feeling of its flesh boiling and exploding in front of that mage, the feeling of crawling at his feet and howling in agony.

Just then, a familiar feeling of bloating came from my abdomen.

It's here... it thought.

The humiliation of being a servant and being driven around resurfaced in its mind.

I wonder which limb it is this time.

At the top of the metal cage, the bell rang sharply and suddenly.

"Clap."

The metal cage door opened.

It roared at the cage door with all its might, trying to express its hatred and malice.

The excruciating pain, like being stabbed, struck again.

It knew it had to leave its cage to complete its mission, otherwise the excruciating pain would only intensify.

As it had done hundreds and thousands of times before, it reluctantly and laboriously climbed out of its cage.

The excruciating pain gradually subsided.

Its abdomen twitched, and the contents surged up its throat and into its mouth.

The feeling of swelling gradually disappeared.

It opened its mouth, full of sharp teeth, and spat out a piece of paper in the darkness.

Another piece of paper... It thought with annoyance: These stupid humans, can't they send something more interesting next time?

The piece of paper was grabbed by a young man in a white robe and roughly pulled out of its mouth.

Rude humans.

The excruciating pain returned, and it howled in agony, knowing at the same time that it was time to go back to its cage.

Filled with humiliation and pain, it climbed back into its cage.

The pain disappeared.

The young man lit a lamp, and the blinding light made it bar its teeth and raise its paws to cover its eight tiny eyes.

light.

It was the thing it hated most. Fortunately, the young man saw the piece of paper clearly and immediately turned off the light.

"From the fortress, the latest intelligence update," in the darkness, within its sight, the young human in white robes put down the piece of paper in his hand, his voice much more solemn than usual: "Things are somewhat beyond our imagination."

"Oh?" a hoarse, aged voice rang out.

It remembered that voice. In the years since it was taken away from the City of Triumph, many humans had been in charge of managing its cage, but this old voice seemed to have been in charge for a longer time.

"First, the prince was ambushed by Lumba at the border... but it seems he escaped unharmed, and the delegation is now en route to Dragon City under Lumba's escort."

"You know I don't care about that," the old, hoarse voice said calmly. "What about that serial killer?"

“Giza Trillman didn’t follow our plan to join the Blood Bottle Gang in besieging Ramon—even though we’ve hinted countless times through various channels about Ramon’s importance to the Brotherhood,” the young man muttered.

Giza Trillman.

Its nerves were once again stimulated by that familiar name.

Its enemy.

Magician.

An enemy of life, crisscrossing through flesh and blood.

"What happened?" The old, hoarse voice rang out again.

"It has made its public debut... According to our informants at Dragon Keep, Giza appears to have endangered His Highness Thales' safety on the way," the young man said.

A sound of a cane striking the ground echoed in the darkness.

"Hmm?" The aged voice asked in confusion, "According to previous reports, wasn't it the Night Queen who intercepted His Highness? That's why she sought help from Dragonbreaker Fortress?"

“Yes, but the intelligence has been updated, and things seem to have become a bit complicated.” The young man raised his head, revealing a smile that no one could see in the darkness: “The Blood Mage has appeared because of that thing the vampires have in their hands—the Dark Night Coffin.”

It suddenly opened its eyes.

During the years it was separated from the subject, although it experienced too much numbness and chaos, the memory of the subject still remained in its mind.

Dark Night...

These words sound so familiar...

Where have you heard it before?
silence.

The old, hoarse voice did not reply.

“I remember that thing was on the list of the legendary anti-magic forces… but judging from your reaction,” the young man in white raised an eyebrow, “it is indeed a remarkable thing, isn’t it? You know, if we send word now to deploy our forces, we might be able to intercept the Queen of the Night…”

The air in the darkness seemed to freeze instantly.

"Don't ask, that coffin is not something we can touch," a hoarse voice finally rang out after a long pause, "neither the coffin itself nor what's inside."

The young man frowned, looking puzzled.

But he finally nodded: "After Giza was forced back by the Fortress Flower wielding the Supreme Shield, it did not reappear... and Ramon was lured to Exter as planned."

The aged figure slowly stood up.

“Very good. If the Blood Vial Gang still can’t find Ramon, we’ll give them another hint… We must lure the Blood Mage there no matter what…”

“In fact, that’s exactly what I wanted to say next,” the young voice interrupted him. “Your last attempt seems to have worked.”

The owner of the aged voice, the Black Prophet Morat Hansen, slowly raised his head in the darkness.

“Although the Brotherhood headquarters hasn’t made any moves under our surveillance… Black Sword has appeared on the border between the two countries,” the young man said with a smirk. “I think he’s gone to rescue Ramon… It seems that Ramon is indeed problematic, and his value to the Brotherhood is probably far beyond our imagination.”

Another eerie silence followed.

Until Morat's sinister laughter slowly drifted out.

“Hehehe,” the Black Prophet chuckled, “Hey, I was almost fooled by my own student and that old woman... For a moment, I really had to dismiss my doubts about Ramon’s identity and remove him from the blacklist.”

“However, no matter how carefully you conceal it, it cannot overcome your suspicion, which is even more solid than the Dragon Fortress,” the young man in white robes, Raphael Lindbergh, raised his head in the darkness and chuckled sarcastically.

"Spread the word," Morat said, unfazed by Raphael's sarcasm. He suppressed his smile and whispered, "The prince should have already entered Exter, right?"

Raphael nodded: "They're on the last stretch of road within Black Sand Territory."

“Bring Jorah back,” the Black Prophet nodded, taking a deep breath. “Now that he has accomplished his mission and successfully lured Ramon to the prince’s delegation…”

Raphael crumpled the paper in his hand and gently sprinkled it on a peculiar pattern on the ground. Upon contact with the pattern, the crumpled paper pieces mysteriously burned and disappeared.

"Shall we proceed to the next step?" the young man asked calmly.

“Well, it’s time to send a big gift to both the Dark Chamber and the Brotherhood,” the Black Prophet tapped his cane. “Prepare to set off. This is your first major test before you take over as head of the Secret Society—ensure that Black Sword and Giza enter Dragonsreach at the same time and discover Ramon.”

Raphael smiled brightly.

“The Black Sword versus the Blood Mage is bound to be a spectacular sight,” Morat took a deep breath and sat down again. “What an exciting scene.”

"So you're in charge of drawing away the two legendary anti-magic weapons in Dragonsky City?" Raphael smirked. "An unbridled mage in the capital of a nation... the scale of the scene is secondary, but it's bound to be a mess. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Especially... that's a notorious serial killer known to all intelligence agencies.

Raphael smiled outwardly, but thought to himself silently.

“Consider it the stars’ return gift to Exter, a way to vent our anger for the losses His Majesty and I have suffered these past few months,” the Black Prophet remarked. “After all, this is also for the purpose of more effectively dealing with the threat of the Blood Mage…”

"I really want to see how that old woman in Dragon Sky City will handle this situation."

Furthermore, Morat thought to himself: With the tacit approval of the Kingdom's Secret Service, the Black Street Brotherhood has been enjoying its glory for far too many years.

Since the Blood Bottle Gang has been severely weakened, Ashida and Giza are forced to show themselves.

That brotherhood, and the hand behind it, it's time for them to pay a price.

It's all for the stability of the Star Kingdom, isn't it?

(End of this chapter)