Hello, is this a letter addressed to Demon Fortress?

The blood vessels, like living snakes, wrapped tightly around Hannah.

With his arms tied behind his back and his bat wings tightly folded, he couldn't even move his fingertips.

Bill walked ahead, his steps leisurely.

The hem of the dress swept across the rubble of the ruins without pausing for a moment.

Two undead knights silently carried Hannah.

Their steps were synchronized, but their movements were stiff.

It's like dragging a lifeless body.

Walk through the half-collapsed corridor and past the toppled statues.

Deep within Mirror City, the ruins of a temple faintly emerge.

The altar is still there.

The stone countertop was covered in cracks, but it did not completely collapse.

Modo stood before the altar.

He was thin and had an empty look in his eyes.

It was as if nothing in this world could leave a trace in his eyes.

Beside him was Ashu.

Ash knelt on one knee, his arms twisted behind his back by the Corpse Knight.

His clothes were wide open, revealing his chest.

The gray-black wounds crisscrossed.

The deepest cut is a diagonal slash from the left shoulder to the right rib.

The edges are curled up and show no signs of healing.

The blood had long since drained away, leaving only dried black stains.

But he still held his head up.

His gaze passed over Modo and landed intently on Hannah, who was being brought in.

His eyes were red-rimmed, but his pupils were surprisingly bright.

Like the last flame before death.

Hannah turned her face away.

I didn't dare look at him.

Bill walked to the altar and casually leaned against a broken pillar.

He glanced at Ash, then looked at Modo.

"Why didn't you kill him?"

The tone was casual, as if asking what to have for dinner.

Modo did not answer immediately.

His empty gaze slowly fell on Ash's face.

He paused for a long time before speaking.

"He is a blood relative of the Grand Master of the Assassin's Court."

His voice was so calm it sounded like he was just stating the weather.

"Keep it; it might come in handy later."

Bill raised an eyebrow.

A playful smile curved at the corner of his lips.

"That hot-tempered legendary assassin?"

He chuckled softly.

"He would do this for a son who betrayed him..."

"At any cost?"

betray.

Ash's eyelids twitched slightly, but he didn't offer any explanation.

Motoro turned his head and looked at Bill.

His eyes remained vacant, but his tone was terrifyingly resolute.

"Their relationship..."

It's not as it seems on the surface.

He paused.

"Don't be fooled by them."

Bill's smile deepened.

He drawled out his words, as if he had discovered something interesting.

"Oh~~"

"You mean, decades ago..."

"That assassination that shocked the entire city of Dawn."

"Could it be a charade orchestrated by the father and son?"

Modo did not answer.

He simply looked away and stopped looking at Ashu.

Silence is the best answer.

Bill shook his head, a half-smile on his face.

"You assassin players are really cunning."

He stopped worrying and turned to Hannah.

"Alright, let's get down to business."

He took a few steps closer and looked down at the bound demon woman.

"Where is the Demon King Pillar?"

Hannah looked up.

She looked at him calmly with her red eyes.

Not a word.

Bill waited a few seconds, checked the blood vessels, and then shrugged.

"It's not on her."

He looked at Modo.

"Searched."

Modo's eyes flickered slightly.

"Then who has it?"

Bill waved his hand.

His smile had gained a touch of arrogance.

"It doesn't matter."

"As long as I become the eleventh Demon King..."

"The Demon King Pillar will come to me on its own."

Modo looked at him.

A rare hint of interest flickered in his empty eyes.

Are you sure...?

"Can I fully transplant the Demon King's blood?"

He paused.

"This cannot be done by conventional means."

The Blood of the Demon King.

The source of the power of the seventy-two demon kings.

Only those successors personally "recognized" by the Demon King can naturally inherit the throne after the Demon King's fall.

Forced transplantation?

There has never been a successful precedent in the history of the demon race.

This is common sense ingrained in the blood of every demon.

Bill laughed.

That smile carried an air of arrogance.

It also carries a certain almost pious fanaticism.

"Can."

He said softly.

"But the cost is extremely high."

He raised his hand.

Palms facing up, fingers loosely clenched.

It seemed as if it was carrying some invisible treasure.

The air suddenly became viscous.

It was neither cold nor hot.

Rather, it is something ancient, decaying, yet imbued with an eerie vitality…

pulsation.

It was as if something, after sleeping for thousands of years, was slowly opening its eyes.

A dark red light appeared above Bill's palm.

The light was like a living thing, slowly wriggling.

Each pulse is like the beating of a giant heart.

thump.

thump.

thump.

"This is the soul of the Blood God."

Bill spoke softly, as if introducing a beloved item.

"A sacred relic of the vampires."

"The foremost of the three sacred relics."

He held the dark red light, a satisfied smile in his eyes.

"Those old geezers..."

"They've been guarding it for thousands of years."

"I'd rather let it gather dust than risk it."

He paused.

The smile deepened.

"Unfortunately, I am the only one from a thousand years ago..."

"The only vampire to complete the Blood God Trial."

"My soul has long been connected with the Blood God."

He looked at Modo, his tone light as if he were saying the weather was nice today.

"So, they had no choice but to..."

"Give it to me."

Blood God's Soul.

Before his death, the first Blood Ancestor separated half of his soul.

Sealed within a special crystal, it has been passed down to this day.

Its power can reshape bloodlines.

It can break down the boundaries of race and bloodline.

It can also forcibly imprint blood that does not belong to the host into the depths of the soul.

The cost is that it's used every time.

The soul itself will be permanently worn down.

That is irreversible loss, like chipping away at the remains of a god.

For two thousand years, no one in the vampire clan has dared to use it.

This is the authority that allows the vampires to establish themselves among the 72 pillars of the demon race.

They will not allow their precious souls to be wasted.

But Bill didn't care.

What he wants is power.

It means becoming the Demon King and instantly ascending to the Epic level.

The Blood God's soul slowly drifted toward Hannah.

A dark red light hovered above her chest.

Hannah's pupils contracted sharply.

The body instinctively leans back.

However, he was held down firmly by the Corpse Knight and could not move.

The dark red light touched her heart.

There are no wounds.

There was no tear.

Not a single drop of blood was shed.

But something was forcibly "awakened" from the depths of her soul.

Hannah's body trembled violently.

His red eyes widened suddenly.

Her lips were clenched tightly.

pain.

It's not physical pain.

It's not bone pain.

Rather, it comes from the deepest part of one's bloodline.

From the very marrow.

From the very source of every blood vessel and every trace of demonic energy.

Like a thousand ants gnawing at the heart.

Like being scorched by a raging fire.

It felt as if countless fine needles were simultaneously piercing the softest part of my soul.

Her body began to spasm uncontrollably.

His back arched, then fell heavily back down.

Fingertips dug into palms, nails broke.

Blood seeped from between his fingers, staining the stone slab with a dark color.

But no sound came out.

Only his teeth bit his lower lip until it was bloody and mangled.

The light emanating from the Blood God's soul grew ever brighter.

A faint glimmer gradually emerged from the dark red halo...

A pure, almost transparent gold.

The gold was like strands of hair.

Extremely fine.

Extremely pale.

Yet it carried a chilling, oppressive aura.

It was as if a sleeping god had opened a crack in his eye.

a drop.

Two drops.

Golden streaks of blood seeped from Hannah's chest.

Like peeling away layers of silk, strand by strand.

It slowly flowed towards the Blood God's soul.

Each thread is extracted.

Hannah's body trembled violently once.

The veins on his forehead bulged, winding like earthworms beneath his pale skin.

Sweat poured down his temples like rain, forming a thin stream that trickled down his chin.

His fingernails were all broken off, and his palm was a bloody mess, indistinguishable from flesh.

But she remained silent.

His crimson eyes were fixed intently on what lay ahead.

My vision had long since blurred into a hazy blur of light and shadow.

She bit her lips raw, and blood dripped down her chin, blooming into tiny flowers on her clothes.

But not even a muffled groan escaped from between his teeth.

Bill watched this scene quietly.

His eyes held an almost reverent appreciation.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

He spoke softly, as if comforting a wounded little animal.

"The pain of having one's bloodline severed..."

"It's a hundred times more painful than having your heart ripped out."

Hannah did not answer.

She was unable to speak.

The body was still trembling, but it was no longer struggling.

It's just simple...

pain.

The pain was so intense it reached the very marrow of my bones, so intense it felt like my soul was about to leave my body.

But she didn't hide.

They didn't make a sound.

Bill continued, as if talking to himself.

It's as if they're giving a grand explanation of this ceremony.

"However, this is just the beginning."

What you are experiencing now is merely "guidance".

He reached out his hand, his fingertips lightly touching the floating golden blood vessels.

"Wait for the Blood God's soul to take all the Demon King's blood from your body..."

"One strand at a time, one strand at a time."

"Take everything away from the depths of your soul."

He paused.

smile.

"They will reassemble within the soul."

"Then……"

His gaze fell on the small cluster of golden light that was gradually gathering.

His eyes burned with passion.

"Enter my body."

"Become my strength."

He leaned down and whispered in Hannah's ear.

Her voice was soft, like a lover's whisper.

"This process..."

"It will take a whole day."

"You will remain conscious."

"Feel every drop of blood as it leaves your body."

Finally, death.

He straightened up and looked around.

A composed smile.

Moonlight streamed through the cracks in the dome, illuminating his pale face.

The light also fell on Hannah's blood-soaked profile.

She lowered her eyes.

Eyelashes cast dappled shadows on the cheekbones.

There was still no sound.

Only his chest was still rising and falling very slowly.

This proves she is still alive.

He is still conscious.

Still enduring it.

Ash knelt not far away.

He stared intently at Hannah.

His eyes were so red they were almost bleeding.

Lips move.

But it couldn't make a sound.

........

Time passed slowly amidst the pain.

Inside the temple, only the pulsating sound of the Blood God's soul could be heard.

thump.

thump.

thump.

Like the heartbeat of a dying person.

Hannah could no longer feel her body.

Consciousness blurred into a dark red blur.

Only that tearing pain constantly reminded her that she was still alive.

Thirteen strands of golden blood vessels have been extracted.

Each strand was as fine as a hair, yet it etched a permanent crack into her soul.

Bill leaned against the pillar, closing his eyes to rest.

A faint smile graced his pale face, as if he had become a demon king in his dream.

Modo stood quietly before the altar, motionless.

Like a statue that has long since died, even its breathing is barely perceptible.

suddenly.

Modo's empty eyes shifted slightly.

He raised his head and looked at the night sky outside the temple.

"...There's someone there."

The voice was flat, yet it made the air freeze for a moment.

Bill opened his eyes.

A flicker of displeasure crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by amusement.

"Avalon's support?"

Modo shook his head.

"No."

He paused.

"He must be a bounty hunter."

"two."

"One is a lower-level transcendent being, and the other is a higher-level high-ranking being."

His voice was flat.

His empty eyes, however, focused for a rare moment.

Like a slumbering snake, sensing the body temperature of its prey.

"We're getting closer."

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Lower-level extraordinary? Upper-level high-ranking?"

He chuckled.

"These days, people with this kind of strength dare to come here to die?"

Modo ignored his taunts.

He gazed into the void, sensing the soul fluctuations that were gradually becoming clearer, yet remained shrouded in a veil of mystery.

He then sent out scouts to investigate. Through the scouts' eyes, he saw the other person's face and was stunned.

"...It was him."

The air fell silent for a moment.

Bill's smile faded slightly.

"Who?"

Modo turned his head and looked at him.

"The high-ranking mage that Jesse warned us about."

Bill squinted.

"Ah~~"

He drew out his words, as if recalling a long-forgotten warning.

"That stealth ability and levitation technique..."

"The weirdo that Jesse calls himself 'far inferior'."

He smiled and stretched his shoulders and neck.

The joints made a slight cracking sound.

"I'm so bored, I'll go have some fun."

He stepped forward and walked out of the temple.

Modo's voice came from behind:

"Don't be careless."

Bill kept walking.

"A high-ranking official like myself can't possibly kill me, can I?"

He turned his head to the side, speaking in a dismissive tone.

"If I'm not mistaken, the extraordinary person next to them is just a priest."

"High-ranking mages and extraordinary priests, I have never believed they could threaten me."

"Even if they could, could they kill me? Even Guxin couldn't kill me."

Motor paused.

"Your immortality does not mean you are without weaknesses."

His tone was calm, yet every word was clear.

"Especially at the Wailing Wall..."

"This place is teeming with spirits and demons."

Bill stopped in his tracks.

He turned around and looked at Modo.

A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips.

"But the other person is a living person."

He tilted his head.

"I'll never have it..."

"Only the dead can attack the soul, right?"

Modo did not answer.

His silence created a moment of awkward tension.

Bill didn't care.

He smiled and shook his head.

"You and Jesse are both too vigilant, which reminds me of those stubborn old fogies."

"What kind of strange mage is this...?"

He paused, his tone light as if he were discussing tonight's dessert.

"In the end, it's just a high-level one."

"His magic reserves are so meager that he can't even sustain a decent offensive spell."

"Even if he could, could his magical power surpass that of Miss Hannah, who is of the transcendent rank?"

He glanced at Hannah, who was bowing her head beside the altar.

"Her claws have torn me to shreds several times."

He chuckled softly.

"Unfortunately, none of it matters to me."

Hannah did not open her eyes.

I don't know if it's because I'm powerless or because I don't want to look at him.

Bill looked away and walked towards the door.

"Wait until I bring him back...and bring him to Jesse."

His voice carried the expectant tone of a child showing off a toy.

"Jesse's expression must be hilarious."

The sound of footsteps gradually faded into the depths of the ruins.

Silence returned to the temple.

Only the pulsating sound of the Blood God's soul could be heard.

thump.

thump.

thump.

After Bill left, Hannah struggled to lift her eyes.

My eyelashes were stuck together in clumps by sweat, and all I could see was a blurry dark red.

She laboriously turned her neck to look at the other side.

Ash remained kneeling on the ground.

His arms were tied behind his back, and he was covered in blood.

But he also looked up.

Look at her.

Two pairs of eyes met in the dimly lit temple.

Hannah's lips moved slightly.

No sound.

But Ash understood.

Hannah was saying, "It's him."

The little mage has arrived.