Chapter-15

"You should go home, Vermin... You've had too much to drink for today," Tony said, his tone firm as he grabbed the mug from the table, lifting it to his lips and taking the last sip before turning to leave with Vermin.

Kael's eyes narrowed as he watched them go. His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet laced with quiet irritation.

"He only had one sip... Fuck."

"One is more than enough... Leader," Agrisil's voice murmured from the shadows.

"Is it?"

A silent pause settled over the street—then—

*THUD*

Vermin collapsed, his unconscious body sprawled across the dirt road. But unlike Vermin, Tony didn't just fall—he staggered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his knees buckled beneath him.

"C-Can't... breathe..." he wheezed, clutching at his throat. His body convulsed, panic widening his eyes as blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.

"The world is so beautiful..." Vermin slurred in a drunk tone.

He pointed toward the night sky, laughter bubbling from his lips. "Look, I see stars... Hahaha."

A murmur rippled through the bystanders, then panic.

"Hey, look! Someone's collapsed!"

"Shit! There's blood coming out of his mouth—his eyes too!"

"Someone get the guards!"

"Fuck, he's dead!"

The whispers swelled into a commotion as more people gathered, their voices mixing with the crackling torches and distant sounds of the bustling marketplace.

And amidst it all, Kael slipped away like a shadow in the dark.

His steps were unhurried at first, but as the shouts grew louder behind him, his pace quickened. There was no regret on his face. No second thoughts.

Just a smile.

'A human killing another human… That is nothing new. But a human smiling like that afterward? That's something I haven't seen in decades.' Agrisil thought, watching from the darkness.

Kael's fingers twitched slightly at his side, excitement thrumming through his veins.

'That was fucking awesome…' His thoughts swirled like ink in water.

'I've killed hundreds before, but this… this felt like the first time all over again.'

By the time he reached the mansion, his heart was still racing.

He slipped in through the back entrance, the scent of seared meat and spices thick in the air. The kitchen was dimly lit, a single lamp casting long shadows across the walls.

Neil stood at the counter, stirring a pot over the fire.

Kael took a step inside—

Ping!

A translucent screen flickered to life before his eyes.

[Quest Available!!!]

[Quest: The More, The Better]

[Rank: E]

[Description: A cult always needs followers, and as its leader, it is your duty to ensure its growth. Recruit 10 followers for the Void Convent within the allotted time.]

[Reward: Mask of Stealth]

[Time Limit: 24 Hours]

[Penalty: No skill usage for the next 30 days.]

'I already have 2 followers... I need eight more in the next 24 hours or I can't summon anymore Demons.

I need to summon another Demon in order to see if he brings any useful skill like Agrisil did or maybe he can bring something even more useful.' Kael thought as he closed the door.

He closed the notification with a flick of his fingers and turned his attention back to Neil.

"Leader..." Neil stiffened, immediately dropping to one knee.

"Enough of that," Kael waved him off. "Did you prepare the list of names I asked for?"

Neil hesitated. "I... I have some people in mind, but they might be—"

Click.

The kitchen door creaked open.

A slender figure stepped inside, the dim light catching the strands of her auburn hair. Lena.

She bowed deeply. "I greet the leader."

"Lena." Kael leaned back, drumming his fingers against the wooden counter. "Tell me you have something useful. This one here is only good for cooking."

Neil flinched but remained silent.

Lena smiled, stepping forward and placing a stack of neatly written papers on the table. "I have found seven maids, who can be Blackmailed, Scared and purchased into being the followers of the cult, Leader."

Kael reached for the papers just as Neil placed a plate of freshly roasted meat and a cup of wine beside him. He took a sip, scanning the documents with sharp eyes.

Agrisil, lurking in the shadows, stole a handful of meat scraps from the counter, stuffing them into his mouth.

---

Meanwhile, at Baker's Street…

A cluster of royal guards stood outside the tavern where Tony had drawn his last breath, their silver armor gleaming under the lamplight.

At the center of the gathering stood a young woman, her posture rigid with authority. Her dark hairs were pulled into a high ponytail, sharp features accentuated by the flickering flames. Cold, calculating gray eyes swept over the scene.

She wore a crisp white uniform, gloves fitted snugly over her hands, twin swords strapped to her waist. A single letter, bold and unmistakable, was embroidered onto the back of her uniform with golden threads—

"K."

Her gaze locked onto the table where Tony and Vermin had sat hours before, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face.

Nearby, two men knelt beside the corpse, their movements precise and methodical. Identical in appearance—raven-black hair cascading past their shoulders, sharp aristocratic features, and piercing ice-blue eyes—the twins were near mirror images of one another.

One was dressed in deep emerald, the other in sapphire blue. Both uniforms bore the same golden letter "K" on their backs.

"Find anything interesting, Tim? Jim?" the woman asked, stepping closer.

Tim, the one in blue, straightened with a sigh. "Not magic. No mana traces. Judging by how quickly he died, I'd say it was poison. Jim can confirm."

Jim, still crouched, was meticulously testing samples of blood against small vials of alchemical solutions. Each time a vial failed to react, he tossed it aside, reaching for the next.

"Not this one... Not this one... Not this one..."

The woman frowned. "Jim. Is he poisoned or not?"

"Yes. Definitely poisoned... Not this one either," Jim muttered, tossing another failed sample over his shoulder.

"Then tell me—what was he poisoned with?"

Jim abruptly halted, patting his coat.

"Finished."

"Finished?" She crossed her arms. "Explain."

Jim let out a sharp breath, frustration etched into his face. "I brought nineteen different identification serums. None of them reacted." He straightened, his voice turning grave. "That shouldn't be possible."

Tim's brow furrowed. "Maybe it's a new type of poison?"

Jim turned to his twin, his voice dripping with condescension. "You fucking idiot. This is alchemy, not magic. Creating a completely new poison isn't something you just do overnight. It takes years—decades—of research."

The woman exhaled sharply. "Then what do we do?"

Jim's expression darkened. "I need to take multiple samples back to the lab. If this really is a new poison…"

He trailed off, the implication clear.

She turned to the guards. "Take the body to the Alchemy Department. Now."

Jim adjusted his gloves. "I'm going with it and send me both of those alcohol mugs as well. I will start immediately."

The woman nodded. "Tim and I will stay here and question the locals."

As the guards moved to transport the body, her gaze flickered toward the darkness beyond the market.

"Hope this thing doesn't reach the Blackmarket before we find a cure." She whispered under her breath.