From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 513 New Residents of Twilight City

"I see it! Dahl!" Asderon, filled with rage and longing, strode forward, shoved open Qazador's heavy sarcophagus, and pulled him out.

Vampires are truly amazing creatures.

Ivy was certain that his Guardian of Light had completely destroyed Kazardor's body, yet the persistent vampire had inexplicably returned to his coffin. Perhaps this was due to the special buffs granted by the vampire's lair?

The resurrected vampire lord was extremely weak, and could not even hold onto his weapon.

Asdalon held the crimson scepter and lashed it hard across Qazador's face. The once arrogant vampire lord rolled over in a sorry state, and a dagger fell from his body.

Before Kazador could straighten up, the gargoyle on the scepter struck him in the abdomen, and the vampire lord groaned and curled up into a ball.

“Kill him! End all this!” Gendler cried out fervently.

Asdallen wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve, revealing a sinister grin: "Yes, kill him! Just one more time, and I'll be rid of you forever... But..." A crimson light flashed in his eyes, and Asdallen's tone shifted, "If I were to perform the ritual you started, I would never have to fear anyone again!"

"Hahaha...cough cough..." Kazador, lying on the ground, laughed loudly, coughing up blood. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I would allow someone else to usurp my position, recite the prayer, and then ascend to heaven in my territory? The scars on your back bind the souls of you and the other derivatives together. Once this ritual is completed, all derivatives bearing scars will be sacrificed—including you! You are merely a means to achieve my goal. I created you to devour you!"

"This isn't what we agreed on!" Uma was shocked by the huge contrast in Asdallen's behavior, and only then did she point her weapon at him. "I will never allow that to happen! Kill Kazador! Or we'll kill you!"

“Don’t rush.” Ivy raised her hand to stop Uma from stepping forward. “It’s the atmosphere here that’s affecting him. The power of the devil is manifesting here through the marks on their backs.”

"A devil?" Uma asked suspiciously.

“Didn’t anyone tell you? What Kazador is sacrificing isn’t the lives of seven thousand derivative beings, but their souls,” Ivy explained. “To the devil Grand Duke Mephistopheles, in the form of a Black Mass, in exchange for the power to ascend to vampire status.”

Ivy raised her voice and said to Asdallon, "We've discussed this before, haven't we? Gaining the power of an Ascended Vampire won't give you freedom or security; it will only hand over your soul to another master, a devilish duke from hell."

“Think of Karak, think of Will, think of the Blood Armored Demon we encountered at the Temple of Shar, and think of Raphael who followed us all the way.” Ivy put her hand on Asderon’s shoulder. “You know what happens when you deal with demons. You get eaten clean, leaving not even your soul.”

"Help me, help me! Ivy!" The ferocious expression on Asdallen's face disappeared, replaced by fear and unease, just like when he first revealed his scars to Ivy.

“I know you can do it!” Asdallen almost knelt on the ground, holding Ivy’s arm with both hands. “You’re a master of dark magic! You can make the devil dance to your tune! You must have a way, right? A way to free me from Qazador and liberate my soul?”

"I can offer these derivative bodies, and their souls, as a sacrifice to you!" Asderon's eyes were filled with longing and pleading. "This is not enslavement, it is sacrifice! It is a deal between us!"

Ivy sighed softly, pulled her arm away from the pale elf's hand, and then touched his forehead amidst his bewildered expression.

"Look at yourself now, Asdallen, how ugly and wretched you are! What difference is there between you and the dying Gadzador?"

“You forgot that I’m a vampire incarnate… I can’t look in a mirror and can’t see my own face…” Asdallen’s face showed a fawning smile, and he even tried to kiss Ivy’s palm.

That was what he learned under Qazador's "education," the humiliation etched into his bones by 170 years of whipping and torture. The freedom and sunshine he gained from the mind-flayer were too little to fill the void in his heart, nor enough to replace his inferiority and shortsightedness.

Ivy's eyebrows twitched in disgust as he tossed Asdallen aside. He had originally intended to connect Asdallen's vision with that of others, letting him see his own ugliness through their eyes.

This man, who meticulously mends clothes, can't stand rolling around in the mud. Ivy believes that perhaps this is how he can rediscover himself.

But it seems he was wrong; a more drastic approach is needed.

Ivy tapped his temple with his finger and pulled out a wisp of silvery substance—his fresh memory that could display Asdalon's ugliness from every angle.

As Asdallen crawled toward him on all fours, Ivy flicked the memory into Asdallen's mind, then reached up and pressed his forehead, preparing to extract the next memory.

This time, he wanted Asderon to see something beautiful: the unconscious smile that appeared on his face as he lay on the deck sunbathing, the burst of laughter at Halsin's raunchy jokes, and even the unconscious mockery when he argued with Karak...

Comparison can double the effect of two types of memory.

The new memories erased the blankness from Asdell's face, transforming it into a sense of nostalgia and enjoyment.

“You’ve known all along that freedom can’t be obtained through the hands of others. Relying on Mephistopheles or me won’t make you any freer than you are now,” Ivy said softly. “Don’t let the fears and desires that trapped Gazador trap you as well. You can be better than him; you can surpass the version of yourself he created…”

“You’re right… Ivy…” Asdalon opened his eyes, the blood-red light that had been lingering in his pupils had disappeared. “You’re right… Even if I have to live as a derivative, I can still gain my own freedom.”

He gave a hearty smile: "Do you know what I'm about to do?"

"I'd like to hear more." Ivy breathed a sigh of relief. Actually, he wasn't very good at providing psychological counseling, but thankfully the method he came up with on a whim worked...

If one had to find a reason for helping Asdalon, it would probably be because he gave Shadowheart a push from behind. Although he always seemed glib and smooth-talking, Asdalon's emotions were probably the most sensitive of all of Ivy's teammates.

Asdallen tapped the ground with his heel, and the dagger that had fallen to the ground flipped and bounced into his hand.

He spread his arms, making a bowing gesture: "I'm about to enjoy my freedom!"

Ivy moved her fingers and silently dispelled the silencing spell on Kazador. If the prey could howl, it would probably make Asdallen enjoy it even more.

"What are you doing, child!" Kazador kicked his legs, trying to get away from the dagger-wielding entity. "You can't do it! You are my entity! You are an extension of my power!"

“But I can!” Asdallen laughed as he plunged the dagger into Qazador’s chest, staring wide-eyed at the expression on his face—a pitiful look of fear and confusion, accompanied by constant trembling.

Asdallen laughed, slashing again and again. Asdallen panted, slashing once more.

Asdallen shouted, slashing again and again.

Finally, Asderon wept, and everything returned to calm.

The once invincible vampire lord had been reduced to a pile of minced meat, his bones and various tissues exposed to the air, his blood bubbling from the force of the stabbing. His screams were no longer echoing; only the gazes of his demigods bore witness to everything.

The blood-red light that permeated the ritual platform had dissipated, and the other derivatives that had been bound in the air had regained their freedom. Even though they were lying on the ground, they were unwilling to miss Asderon's actions, which were no different from whipping a corpse.

"Is it... all over?" Daleria, shirtless, walked up to Asdairon. "I can't believe it's all over..."

“I’ve killed him several times already…” Asdallen wiped away his tears and got up from the ground. “If you want to vent your anger, you can do it a few more times. Don’t worry, neither he nor I will mind.”

“Never mind…” Daleria shook her head and stood aside.

“What does this mean for us?” another derivative asked, as if he were sleepwalking and had not yet woken up.

“That depends on the situation.” Asdalon grinned, revealing his fangs. “Can you control your fangs?”

"What does this have to do with you?" asked Petras, the alter ego who had also appeared at Godfrey's Inn, preparing to kidnap a refugee for food.

“If you’re planning to devour half the city, then it becomes everyone’s business,” Asderon said sincerely. “This is just a friendly warning.”

“The choice is simple. You can hide here and live in the shadows like parasites, or you can transcend the people he created.” Asdallen spread his hands, as if to give his brothers and sisters a hug.

"Of course there are other options besides these, but you have to bear the consequences yourself."

The derivatives exchanged glances, and Daleria asked, "What about them? Those innocent victims, more innocent than us... but also far more numerous."

“That’s a proper question.” Asderon turned to the Ghurs, who, having recovered from the shock of Qazador’s death, had fallen into a quiet argument that was escalating. “Seven thousand wretched souls, from ancient criminals to stolen children…”

“There is still hope for our future.” Uma reached out to stop all the arguing. “You have all seen it with your own eyes: the derivatives can break free from the vampires’ control, and transforming into derivatives does not mean the distortion of the soul. We must take them home and help them adapt to their new identities. This is a new challenge for all of us, perhaps even more difficult than hunting a vampire lord.”

"Can you release them, Master Doom?" Uma pleaded.

“Perhaps I can offer you a better option,” Ivy said. “The Derivative Body cannot face the sunlight, which means your entire tribe must change its daily routine or move to a place like the Underdark.”

"However, I happen to know a place that can meet your needs, a place big enough to hold all of you."

Asdallen realized what was happening: "No way, you mean..."

“Minsala!” he called out. “I want to introduce you to a new batch of residents! No matter how weak they were before, becoming Derivatives has greatly enhanced their physical strength. As Twilight Star City continues its renovation, they will be readily available labor; all you need to do is provide a little blood to feed them!”

"A drop of blood?" Mingsala scoffed. "You call the food needed for seven thousand derivative beings a drop?"

“Twilight Star City is indeed the best place to go,” Ivy explained to the Gur. “The Shadow Curse of Resven is no more. I built a new city there called Morning Star City, and there is another city in the Underdark below it, Twilight Star City.”

“If the housing pressure in Twilight Star City is too great, then Morning Star City can share some of it,” Ivy said thoughtfully. “I can use magic to create a cloud that will never dissipate, allowing the Derivatives to move freely on the surface…”

“The activity area has never been a problem, the important thing is food!” Minsara said with a frown. “The Underdark is rich in resources, but seven thousand derivatives will turn it into a dead land in no time.”

“I also have some ideas about that.” Ivy pulled a small twig from her pocket. “This is one of my research samples, from the twisted trees of Old Rasven. Even with only this little bit left, it’s still alive.”

Ivy threw the branch on the ground and unleashed a surge of dark magic with a wave of her hand.

After being hit by the eerie green magical energy, the small section of the branch immediately twisted and swelled, its gnarled roots even burrowing into the stone.

“Hmm… I see it, a shadow plant, and then?” Minsara waited for what was to come.

“The Academy of Splendor in Streihaven is best at researching these kinds of problems; they even have a vampire dean.” Ivy looked at Shadowheart.

The latter nodded quickly: "The owner of the Doomsday Circus even visited Streihaven! She knows that vampire headmaster, whose name is... uh—Valentine?"

“That’s right, Professor Valentine,” Ivy continued. “Besides the vampires researching blood magic, there’s also a group of druids at the same academy. They study there and spend a lot of time together, so it’s time they did some collaborative research. If we could use this twisted plant as a model to cultivate a plant that contains a lot of blood, or make it bear fruit that can be eaten by vampires and their offspring…”

“Speaking of which… I’ve never paid attention to what Professor Valentine eats… I even have a half-blood among my students.” Ivy tapped her head. “Maybe these questions have already been solved by Streihaven.”

“Once we’ve settled everything in the city, I’ll return to Strelhaven immediately and bring this matter to a conclusion,” Ivy promised. “There are only some Tiflin refugees from El Toril in Morningstar right now, homeless like the Gul. Perhaps you would be willing to come and live on my territory, taking on the responsibility of training guards and tracking enemies?”

“Settling on a lord’s land has always been our dream, but…” Uma paused, as if making a decision, “No, Lord Doom, we are willing to work for you in exchange for your protection.”

“Very good.” Ivy nodded, then looked at Asdalon, who had just gained his freedom. “And you, Asdalon, have you thought about how you want to use your freedom? I have a judge’s position waiting for you here… Qazador is dead, and now a large part of those derivative beings are your responsibility…”

“Freedom and responsibility have always been equivalent; I’ve known that for a long time.” Asdalon shook his head helplessly. “But could you let me be happy for a little while longer, even just a little while?”

Ivy smiled.

(End of this chapter)