An old stone castle stands on the edge of the vineyard, right on the bank of the Haven River. From the highest floor, a silhouette of a man can be seen leaning on the window, gazing at the grey canvas high above him.
"Ah, look at that sky, isn't it beautiful?" Loki remarks with a mischievous grin on his face and a half-full glass of red wine in his hand.
"Yes, it is," answers the willowy woman standing two meters behind him.
"It's now reflecting the true color of this world," Loki says, swirling the wine. "Night is approaching, and this place will soon be shrouded in darkness. You see, even the sky becomes tainted." His brow furrows and his eyes darken. "Those Aragons are trying so hard. They must understand that while light will eventually fade, darkness will remain."
He finishes his glass of wine and turns to face the trembling young lady. As he looks at her, he leans his elbows against the window sill. One corner of his mouth crooks up when the woman flinches at his gaze.
He enjoys the power he has over the frail human.
However, when Raiden's face appears in his mind, his smile turns into a scowl.
"Humans are a fascinating species, don't you think? They are so desperate to save the world. But I'm also desperate to change the world." He stretches his neck to look up at the ceiling. His thoughts drift towards Raiden. "But I wonder if that kid is even aware."
Loki bursts out laughing before speaking again.
"Humans never cease to entertain me." He locks his gaze on the woman. "Am I right? Humans are both predictable and unpredictable."
Loki smiles as the woman gulps in fear. Not only that, but she has a beauty that is pleasing even to his inhuman eyes. The moonlight slipping through the window behind Loki illuminates her pale skin, accentuating her beauty. She is dressed in a long crimson velvet gown that complements her fair complexion. Her eyes are emerald green, and her dark hair cascades down her well-shaped hips.
Loki's lips curve into a smile, and he takes a step closer to her. "You're such a beautiful human. It's a shame you've ended up in my hands. Consider this a compliment from me, eh?"
When he extends his hand, the woman flinches, and his hand comes to a halt an inch away from her head. He blinks a couple of times before laughing.
"Too scared? I haven't done anything yet," he says as he closes the remaining gap, patting the woman on the head as if she were a dog.
The woman lowers her gaze and bites her bottom lip.
"Now, take this to the table and then come back to me," he orders, handing her the empty wine glass, and the young woman does as she is told.
The room is large, with only the fireplace lighting it up. Despite the dim lighting, Loki can see clearly thanks to his enhanced vision as a Blood Demon. The room has a large carved oak bed, an upholstered bench seat, and a wooden wardrobe next to the door. He stands in front of the gold-plated mirror on the wall adjacent to the window, staring at the woman's reflection as she places the empty wine bottle on the tabletop.
The room is deafeningly quiet. The only sounds are the crackling of flames and the woman's light footsteps.
When she returns, he smiles. "Good girl. So, shall we go on? I'm starving to death. Being with those two Aragons had to have sapped my energy. "But, at the very least, I learned something new from that brief encounter."
The young woman removes the white scarf around her neck with trembling hands and lets it fall to the floor. Loki's face splits into a grin as the human's bare neck reveals itself before his eyes. He licks his lips as hunger consumes him.
Then he leans forward, his mouth close to her neck. "Don't worry, you'll be remembered. I'll make certain that this town hears about your death and falls into despair. Isn't that exciting?"
Tears well up in the woman's eyes, and her lips tremble. Loki's eyes gleam as the smell of despair wafting from her assaults his olfactory. Sobs erupt from her mouth, her tone pleading for mercy. But, as much as she wished to flee, she is unable to do so.
Loki has placed her under his Command - a skill he possesses in which the victim will obey him willingly or unwillingly. Therefore, he owns her.
When Loki's sharp fangs penetrate her frail skin and sink into her flesh, the woman lets out a whimper. He consumes her energy, blood, soul, and life. As the woman's soul slides down his throat, his body swells with pleasure. He can feel the despair in it, and it warms the cockles of his heart.
Not only is it lovely, but it's also delicious. This town doesn't know how to disappoint me.
When he has finished emptying her, he lets go of her arms, and the woman's lifeless body falls to the floor with a thump. He grins as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you," he whispers, and his deep, booming laughter echoes throughout the room. Sighing, he turns to face the window and gazes out at the darkening sky. "Well, let me go see my new friends and see if the Cimmerian here has the Core."
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He spins around and walks to the door. But, before he turns the doorknob, he looks over his shoulder at the lone wine bottle on the table.
He scratches his chin. "Hmm."
He finally decided to grab it after a few minutes of contemplation. Then he walks out of the room, holding the bottle of wine and humming gleefully like a child who has been given a box of sweets.
***
"Answer my call, Raphael," Raia says, clutching her silver cross necklace. She leaps off the stair, a flaming longsword in her hand, and lands next to Raiden.
"Outcasts," Raiden confirms.
Raia narrows her eyes as she surveys the crowd. The Outcasts rise from their seats and turn to face them. Raia frowns and clutches the hilt of her sword, settling into a defensive stance, but the Outcasts remain in place.
They're not attacking, Raia thinks. They seemed lost. They are. . .
"They've all been tainted recently," Raia claims, and Raiden looks stunned.
"All?"
"Yeah, so let's not waste time and purify them now before they become complete weapons," Raia answers before leaping on the Outcasts.
Raiden grinds his teeth and finishes the last ones.
"Now it's time for Cleansing," Raia says solemnly, her gaze fixed on the lost spirits hovering over the lifeless bodies. There are around fifteen of them.
"I'll do it," Raiden declares, a look of determination crossing his features. "I'll save them."
Raia looks at him, surprised, but she doesn't ask him any questions. She can see determination and pity on his face as he looks at the poor souls, just as he did last night when he purified the tainted coachman's soul.
She's somehow a bit worried about her comrade's behavior.
Raiden closes his eyes and holds the sword in front of his face. "Cypress, pour thyself with Absideon and destroy the darkness thy blade touches. Purify the tainted souls and deliver them to Elysium!"
Vines sprout from his broadsword's rain-guard and enwrap the lost spirits, covering them in holiness and melting the darkness that surrounds them.
"Vines of purification!" he bellows. Before disappearing, the vines emit a bright light. The purified souls flicker and then vanish.
Raiden tightens his grip on his sword's hilt as the bodies on the floor glow and vanish, light particles floating through the area like fireflies.
"Rest in peace," Raia whispers. She steals a glance at Raiden and frowns as she notices his crumpled face.
Then a girl their age emerges from beneath a table, her dark eyes wide open as she stares at them. She's wearing a plain white blouse and overalls. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail.
"Outcast?" Raiden asks.
"I'm not sure," Raia responds.
They take a defensive stance as the girl takes a step forward and then stops. She sweeps her gaze over them, inspecting their attire and the swords in their hands.
"You're priests," the girl says, relieved, and tears well up in her eyes, accompanied by a sob.
She poses no threat, so they soften their stances.
"Priests?" Raia inquires, a frown on her face.
"That's what some people call us," Raiden explains to dispel her confusion.
"I'm Lunet, and I've been waiting for you," the girl says once she calms down. "Darkness has descended on this town. Many people committed suicide, including my brother." Lunet bursts into tears once more. "Do something, you're supposed to be saviors, right? Save this town. Please help me save my beloved home."
"What's going on in this town?" Raiden asks as he approaches her.
Lunet clenches her quivering fists. "My brother . . . He started acting strange ever since he went to this particular tavern."
Raia walks towards them, her brow furrowed. Their Blessings emit light and vanish from their hands, only to reappear as silver cross jewelry.
"Can you tell me where that place is?" Raiden asks, a determined expression on his face.
Lunet's face hardens, her puffy eyes blazing with rage. "It's about to begin."
Lunet leads them to Dennisse, a small street in Marietta lined with wine shops and half-timbered taverns. The dim light from the houses and streetlamps flickers as if to warn. Surprisingly, the street is deserted, despite the fact that it is still too early for the stores to close and people to retire to their beds.
As they walk, their footsteps echo sharply throughout the area, sounding loud against the unknown stillness, like the next victim's booming heartbeat. In comparison to the main street, the atmosphere here is darker and more intense. Every step they take brings them closer to the darkness that awaits them.
"Is this the place?" Raiden asks, his voice barely above a whisper as they come to a halt in front of a looming tavern.
"Lilith's Tavern," Raia reads as she examines the letters engraved on the wooden plaque, which are barely legible due to the shadows that have crept around it.
Lunet nods. "Yeah, and the owner was one of those who committed suicide a week ago, so someone else took over this place."
Inside the tavern, a faint sound can be heard, like muffled cries of agony disguised as a gentle lullaby.
"I-I'm sorry if I can't be there with you inside," Lunet says, shuddering and wrapping her arms around herself as if she's cold. "Standing close to this place gives me the creeps. And I don't want to end up like my brother."
Raiden's expression softens. "Don't worry, we've got this. We swear to save this town."
Lunet smiles back at him. "Thank you. Please save us, priests."
Raiden and Raia watch as her figure fades to a silhouette and then vanishes into the darkness. They then exchange glances.
"Well, let's find the source of this town's darkness," Raiden says.
Raia nods. "Yeah."
They both take a deep breath before pushing their way through the tavern's door. The spacious room is surrounded by long wooden tables with people seated at them. Lanterns are lit on the walls, providing light and warmth in the midst of the frigid night.
Raia wrinkles her nose at the strong perfumes wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet and citrusy aromas emanating from the untouched glasses of wine on the tables. A soft and melodious sound envelopes the space, creating a gloomy and somber atmosphere.
As she sweeps her gaze across the people in the tavern, a crease forms on her brow. Her pupils constrict to slits as she examines their features. Their faces are devoid of any expressions, and their eyes aren't even blinking.
They are in trance.
It must be a Black Art, Raia concludes, shifting her gaze to follow their line of sight.
"What's going on?" Raiden asks, his brow furrowed in puzzlement.
"It seems that we have found the source," Raia mutters, her gaze fixed on the lady on stage.
Raiden frowns as he follows her gaze, then freezes. A woman stands on the raised platform, pouring her lovely voice into the microphone in her hand. Her body sways in a slow, rhythmic motion, and her rosy-peach satin gown moves in sync, like an ocean wave. She's got a silver bejeweled frontler that highlights her long raven hair that cascades down like a waterfall.
She is undeniably beautiful, and Raia may believe that is why the customers are sitting motionless. However, when the woman brings her knees to the floor, the audience's eyes well up with tears, despite their stoic expressions.
"It's her voice, she's inserting despair," Raia hisses.
Raiden nods, his face hardened. "A Cimmerian, yes."