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56. I Am the One Who Rings Death's Bell, Part 10

Chapter 56: I Am the One Who Rings Death's Bell, Part 10

Sam reviewed his options.

He had gained exactly four powers from that disaster. One was superhuman regeneration, and the other was linked to regeneration. He counted them as separate powers because he had the feeling they were. Whatever, it wasn’t like it was an exact science.

He thought he had felt his regeneration improving in the middle of the battle, looking back, but as he said, it wasn’t an exact science.

In any case, the second power tied to his regeneration was that when he inflicted damage on his enemies, his regeneration speed increased. That was all.

Obviously, none of those powers would be useful for getting out of here.

As for the two remaining powers that Satan didn’t know about, he could teleport relatively short distances, but it depended on his line of sight. He could also become intangible like a shadow for a few seconds.

That could potentially work to escape from the shackles, but he had his doubts.

After all, it was a shape-shifting power; deep down, it wasn’t much different from his ability to transform into the animals whose hearts he had devoured, something Satan was aware of.

But he figured he had nothing to lose by trying.

He failed, of course.

The attempt to turn into a dove also failed miserably. The hole his kick had left in the wall was evidence that the shackles didn’t block all his powers, so he had some hope, but it was all for nothing.

Well, it was expected that it wouldn’t be that easy.

He still had his super strength. The ease with which he had made a hole in the wall was proof of that. And yet, he hadn’t made a dent in the shackles so far.

He didn’t like it, but with every passing second, it became more evident. His only option was to try to break them with ice. Sam took a deep breath, preparing for the possibility of being impaled by accident.

It didn’t matter. Thanks to his regeneration, he would probably just suffer from the damage he inflicted, if he inflicted any at all. Blake Wright and the angel Castiel had left him in much worse shape. And if he died, well, it would be a huge pain. It wouldn’t be the end of his existence; he would end up in Hell, delivered to Satan on a silver platter.

But he wasn’t going to die.

It wasn’t that big of a deal—it would take such terrible luck it would be like a miracle. Except for the positive sense usually associated with that word.

The ice spears formed above his head, almost touching the ceiling. Sam took another deep breath and opened fire with great care. Otherwise, he would have ended up his own assassin.

The spears struck the shackles and shattered into a thousand pieces.

Sam grimaced, looked away, and threw himself back as if trying to escape the fragments. The ice shower continued. He felt three shards of broken ice sink into his stomach and the warm blood flowing freely, staining the cold, almost transparent ice the color of a field of red flowers.

It came to his mind like a picture burned into his memory. It seemed like a good place to die.

But there wasn’t that much blood, and he wasn’t going to die. He gritted his teeth. The ice shower…

Of course, it hadn’t made a dent in the shackles either.

As expected.

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His punches and kicks were more powerful than that barrage, thanks to his super strength. He had tried to destroy the shackles physically for so many minutes without success, so a brief shower stood no chance. It was common sense. Even so, it was frustrating. Because if even this wasn’t enough, what exactly could he try?

Firing the ice over and over until it worked. That was the only way, and it would probably even work, sooner or later.

But dozens of pieces of ice shattering into a thousand fragments wasn’t exactly quiet.

The room, of course, wasn’t soundproof. And even if it had been, he had made a hole in the wall, so that didn’t matter anymore.

If he kept this up, all he would achieve was to attract the attention of his enemies. Signing his death… Well, not his death warrant, they needed him, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. Sam threw himself onto his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Great.”

——

They had set off. The guards had allowed both to accompany them, although they were behind all of them. Because they didn’t need to guide them, to show them the way. And to protect them, of course.

They were noblewomen, after all.

Christina didn’t feel very noble, or very protected, nor did she burn with the desire for that to change. But she didn’t protest. The sooner they set off, the better.

Besides, once they got there, once the chaos began, it wouldn’t matter who was supposed to fight and who was supposed to be protected. Once there, she would do whatever she wanted. And whatever was necessary.

Christina tightened the reins of the horse. As a noblewoman, she had learned to ride from a young age. Neither she nor Violet had any problem. She urged her horse forward a bit, getting closer to Violet. Christina had gradually fallen behind, not by much, but enough for it to be obvious that something was up. Although the only thing going on was that she was lost in thought.

“Sister…”

Violet glanced at her from the corner of her eye and jumped to conclusions.

“Don’t worry. He has to be alive. He needs him.”

By the way, their escort wasn’t very large. If Violet had revealed the truth to the guards, they wouldn’t have left a single one of them behind—they would have launched a hunt for the demon’s son. And she doubted they would have been allowed to accompany them, no matter that this ‘being’ was their brother.

“I know. I’m here to tell you that if things get ugly, if you have to choose between me and Sam, save him.”

She hadn’t had to think about it much.

It wasn’t a pleasant conversation, but she felt she needed to make things clear. Because anything could happen in the heat of battle.

“What are you saying? You’re my sister.” Violet sounded offended. Concerned for her, of course, but it wasn’t just that. Christina winced.

“And he’s your brother, don’t forget that. Besides, you owe him. All of this is your fault.”

“What?”

Violet seemed genuinely surprised, for some reason. It was something anyone would be able to figure out, even more so a woman as smart as her. Christina supposed she didn’t want to think about it. It was always hard to face the truth. Yes, she knew it perfectly well, like anyone in this world.

The truth was something cold, hard, and ruthless.

It was much better to look away.

Or at least, much easier. Most people couldn’t distinguish between those two things.

That’s what Christina believed.

“We left the mansion because we couldn’t be sure of what you’d say. If we had stayed, if we had been able to call back the security staff, hire adventurers, whatever, this wouldn’t have happened. So, you owe him.”

Every word she had said was true.

Even so, Violet’s expression turned unpleasant. Of course. She didn’t enjoy hurting her. It was just that it was necessary; she needed to be sure. It was too important to just… trust.

“Okay. You’re right. But you’re both my family,” Violet said. “I have no intention of sacrificing anyone.”

I hope that’s true, she thought.

“I have no intention of dying either, but it could happen. All I’m asking is that if it comes to it, you choose well. Because, I warn you, if you choose me, I won’t live much longer.”

“How can you say that?” Her voice trembled.

“Love, something you know well. Let’s not pretend I’m the only one who sees him differently.”

Violet remained silent for a long time, long enough for Christina to be convinced she wouldn’t say anything. That this was the last nail in the coffin of the conversation.

But she was wrong.

“He was always so handsome, so kind, so well-dressed… And the only boy I ever had a relationship with. The ones from Ardenwood School and the nearby ones don’t count.”

“You don’t have to explain that to me.” She agreed with all of that, and… “I’m not the one who’s ashamed of her feelings. I know who I am, and I’m proud of it.”

This time, the silence would be final. She had no doubt. She knew it as soon as she saw her expression, like in the old days.

Christina rode her horse ahead of her older sister, energetically continuing the journey.

I Am the One Who Rings Death's Bell, Part 10: END