Green City is the largest city in the south, attracting countless adventurers and countless evils at the same time.
In the West End, these malevolent forces converge, ensuring that despite the yearly death toll, the population of this district steadily rises.
Nestled in the heart of the West District, Drucker Tavern thrives as the liveliest and most prosperous establishment, directly overseen by the malevolent influence of the devil's heart.
Countless subterranean powers, both significant and subtle, operate within the West District's murky depths, their true numbers known to none.
The devil's heart, the Dark Covenant, and the three titans of the Sinking Fog are but a fraction of these forces.
Even at the zenith of their power, these three entities couldn't fully dominate the West District, controlling less than half of its territory.
The West District's depths are unfathomable, concealing whether the fruit vendor on Cross Street is human or abyssal demon, or if the beggars lurking in the shadows sprout wings to hunt at night.
Not even the formidable presence of Green City can fully eradicate the hidden malevolence lurking here.
On the second floor of Drucker Tavern, Heart Eater Wales sits elegantly in luxurious black aristocratic attire, adorned with beige napkins and dining at a table draped in white.
In this room evoking Central European nobility, four cloaked figures lurk in shadowy corners, their aura reeking of malevolence and dread.
Their cold, serpent-like gazes pierce through the darkness, sending shivers down one's spine.
"Master, your meal..."
A pale-faced maid wheels in a dining cart, delicately presenting the dishes to the round table.
With a refined flourish, Wales nods in approval, elegantly wielding his knife and fork.
Yet upon closer inspection, one would notice the man with crimson eyes calmly slicing into a bloody heart.
The juxtaposition of elegance and violence within this refined setting is enough to unsettle even the most composed individual.
"Has the representative of the Dark Covenant arrived?"
Wales savored the last bite of food, dabbed at his mouth with a white handkerchief, and casually tossed it aside, the fabric unfurling to reveal a sinister scarlet stain.
Four young maids in plain attire swiftly approached to clear the table.
Amidst the crimson glow of the magic light, a tall, bald figure entered the room upon hearing the inquiry. "Your Excellency Welsh, the envoy from the Dark Covenant has yet to arrive."
Wales tilted his head to regard the bald man before him, his scarlet eyes betraying a hint of cruelty.
"Viscount Bernard dares to challenge me. Clearly, he has been blinded by the goddess of doom.
The Dark Covenant has clashed with the devil's heart for decades, and it is time to put an end to it.
Cease all communication with the Green City army regarding the Dark Covenant stronghold. The shattered Covenant now serves the Devil's Heart's interests.
Once Grot and Amy are dealt with, the entire Dark Covenant will be at my mercy."
With a grim chuckle, Wales finished the remaining bloody morsels in one gulp.
"A delightful evening indeed, praise be to the abyss!"
His expression twisted into a grotesque grin under the reddish glow of the magic lamp.
The bald man, clad in ornate black attire, bowed reverently. "Your eminence commands respect that even the extraordinary envy. The Dark Covenant is fated to fall prey to you... Praise be to you, my master."
Thuds echoed as footsteps approached from outside the room.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
"Your Excellency, the emissary from the Dark Covenant has arrived."
A flicker of excitement danced in Wales's eyes as he gestured to the armored bodyguard. "Allow them entry."
With a sweeping glance, he signaled the four maids to withdraw, leaving only the bald man and the enigmatic figures shrouded in cloaks.
Wales remained silent, his gaze distant as if lost in the memory of the meal.
Minutes passed.
The door creaked open.
Tension hung thick in the air as the bald man's eyes narrowed with vigilance and malice, the shadowy figures also fixating on the entrance.
And there, clad in dwarf-forged armor and wielding three broadswords, strode the formidable Grot into the room, his presence undeniable and lethal.
The northern soldier's eyes harbored no hint of deception; they brimmed with hostility.
After scanning the room for potential threats, he positioned himself to the left, hands resting on the hilt of his sword. The blade plunged deep into the ground, resembling a sculpture extracting steel from stone.
As Grot rose to his feet, Amy, cloaked in a black priest's robe, materialized within the chamber, instantly recognized by Wales.
He was no stranger to these vice presidents of the dark covenant.
A flicker of coldness traversed Wales's gaze. Tonight, once he disposed of these two pests, he could savor the dark covenant without restraint.
Unexpectedly, just as he pondered his next move, a new presence materialized beyond the threshold.
Clad in a priest's robe from the temple, his stature average, yet what drew attention was the severe facial scar cleaving his visage in half, extending from his forehead.
Wales identified him as Stanley, the dark acolyte of the Late Bell Church. The Devil's Heart had tangled with the Late Bell Church on numerous occasions, the latter having procured many sacrifices from the former.
However, the saga did not conclude there. Following Stanley's entrance, a woman cloaked in black garb from head to toe, her face concealed by a pure black mask, strode in, brandishing a colossal sword nearly as large as Grot himself.
A primal aura emanated from her.
Wales cast a penetrating gaze at the masked woman, sensing an inexplicable peril radiating from the unknown warrior.
He was taken aback. He had anticipated the absence of Viscount Bernard's dark emissary would deter the arrival of top-tier professionals amid the Green City army's hunt, yet four formidable individuals stood before him today, one among them exuding an unmistakable aura of lethal threat.
Adjusting his attire in preparation to rise, Wales was suddenly struck by an unexpected sight.
The masked woman, like the rest, stood by the doorway, offering her greetings to the master with a deferential air.
A twinge of unease fluttered within Wales.
Had Viscount Bernard returned to Green City? His thoughts whirled in a maelstrom of speculation.
Footsteps echoed.
And then he appeared.
Bathed in the crimson glow of the magic lamp, a figure of striking handsomeness materialized before Wales.
Tall, possessing flawless features and a regal bearing exuding aristocratic elegance in every gesture.
Yet what captivated Wales were the sharp fangs gracing the figure's lips.
A vampire.
With purposeful strides, he entered the chamber.
As Wales prepared to speak, he witnessed a scene that struck him with solemnity. The four individuals who had entered the room earlier bowed in deference to the final arrival - the vampire.
It was as though the most humble of subjects were greeting their king.
Wales wrinkled his nose, his mental faculties extending outward in a fervent attempt to gauge the level of this vampire's existence.
Yet, after a moment, shock rippled through Wales. He sensed no aura emanating from the vampire - none at all.
The vampire appeared utterly ordinary, akin to a common human!
But could this be possible? Could the enigmatic figure saluted by four top-tier professionals be nothing more than a seemingly powerless mortal?
For a fleeting moment, the vampire who now graced the room with his presence was shrouded in an aura of profound mystery to Wales.
As Morgen entered the room, his gaze locked onto the room's owner, positioning himself opposite Wales.
Gazing upon the legendary heart-eater, the master of the Devil's Heart, and the dark figure as renowned as Viscount Bernard, Wales, Morgen pondered the gravity of the situation upon receiving Amy's urgent message.
It had been a month since he had first embraced Grot. In a bid to maximize their strength, he had swiftly returned to the City of Dawn and conducted a transformation on Stanley, the dark acolyte of the Late Bell Church, imbuing him with blood.
Upon Stanley's awakening, he promptly escorted him back to Green City, enlisting Betty to confront Wales, the formidable heart-eating demon.
Though subduing the Dark Covenant was a new endeavor, it held significant weight in Morgen's future plans and could not be forsaken. Victory in this endeavor was imperative.
Wales's demeanor was complex. He had anticipated that Betty, the most formidable among them, would be the true mastermind behind tonight's proceedings.
Yet, to his astonishment, the vampire, devoid of any discernible aura, sat in the seat of honor, under the reverent gazes of all present.
The vampire was the true master of this assembly!
This revelation left Wales profoundly perplexed.
Despite his attempts at perception, the vampire appeared utterly mundane, devoid of any magical essence.
With half of the devil's blood coursing through his veins, Wales possessed a perception of energy far surpassing that of ordinary humans.
And yet, even with his heightened senses, he failed to detect any trace of the vampire's essence.
Moreover, he faintly sensed a divine presence within the vampire, akin to the power of the Light Gods.
The devil within him recoiled in madness!
To think he, a creature of darkness, would detect traces of the Light Gods' believers within a vampire!
Was this the chaotic influence of the demon's blood within him?
Wales's initial disdain and disregard for tonight's gathering morphed into a state of solemnity.
In the presence of Morgen, who emanated an undetectable aura, Wales couldn't help but regard the vampire with newfound respect.
In the dark world, power was the sole currency of respect.