the blood of vengeance
A year had passed since Díkē had left the Aegis estate, and the world had changed. The once-weak and uncertain boy had grown into a formidable adventurer, his name whispered with a mix of fear and respect across the land. Díkē Aegis, the Summoner of Blood and Death, had risen through the ranks of the Adventurer's Guild, now standing as a B-rank adventurer. His reputation was built not only on his strength but on the eerie, otherworldly power he wielded—a power born of vengeance and fueled by the dark god he now served.
The ruby in his palm pulsed faintly, its glow a constant reminder of the oath he had sworn. Díkē stood at the edge of a battlefield, the air thick with the scent of blood and iron. The bodies of his enemies lay scattered around him, their lifeless forms a testament to the power he now commanded. Beside him stood Malachar, his towering figure cloaked in shadow, his greatsword dripping with blood.
"You've grown stronger, Summoner," Malachar said, his voice a low, resonant growl. "But your enemies grow bolder. They will not stop until you are destroyed."
Díkē's eyes gleamed with a cold, unyielding light. "Let them come. They will only add to my strength."
He raised his left hand, the ruby's glow intensifying as he focused on the blood pooling at his feet. The air grew heavy, charged with an electric tension, and the ground beneath him began to tremble. The blood rose from the earth, swirling and coalescing into humanoid forms—knights made entirely of blood, their armor gleaming with a dark, crimson light.
"Rise," Díkē commanded, his voice cold and unwavering.
The blood knights stood at attention, their eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. They were extensions of his will, bound to him by the power of the Knight's Heart and the dark god he served. Díkē could feel their presence, their strength, and it filled him with a sense of grim satisfaction.
"Blood knights," Malachar said, his voice filled with dark approval. "A fitting weapon for the chosen of Death."
Díkē nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "They will serve me well. And they will spread the word of Death to all who oppose me."
---
The town of **Blackthorn** was a bustling hub of activity, its streets filled with merchants, travelers, and adventurers. But today, the town was on edge. Rumors had spread of a powerful summoner who wielded the blood of his enemies as a weapon, a man who served the god of Death and brought destruction to all who stood in his way.
Díkē walked through the streets, his presence commanding and undeniable. The townsfolk whispered as he passed, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and awe. He paid them no mind, his focus on the task at hand. The Adventurer's Guild had assigned him a mission—to investigate a series of disappearances in the nearby **Crimson Marsh**. The marsh was a dangerous place, filled with monsters and dark magic, but Díkē welcomed the challenge.
As he approached the guild hall, he was met by a group of adventurers, their expressions grim. One of them, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward.
"You're Díkē Aegis, aren't you?" the man asked, his voice tinged with unease.
Díkē nodded, his expression unreadable. "I am. What do you want?"
The man hesitated, then spoke. "We've heard the stories. About the blood knights, about the god of Death. Is it true? Do you really serve him?"
Díkē's eyes gleamed with a cold, unyielding light. "I serve no one but myself. But Death… Death is my ally."
The man's face paled, but he nodded. "We're heading to the Crimson Marsh too. Maybe we can work together."
Díkē studied him for a moment, then shook his head. "I work alone. But if you get in my way, you'll regret it."
The man stepped back, his expression filled with fear. "Understood."
---
The Crimson Marsh was a desolate, foreboding place, its waters dark and stagnant, its air thick with the scent of decay. Díkē moved cautiously, his senses alert for any signs of danger. The blood knights followed him, their presence a silent reminder of the power he now wielded.
As he ventured deeper into the marsh, he felt a strange pull—a whisper in the back of his mind, faint but insistent. It was the same voice he had heard in the crypt, the voice of Death.
"You are not alone," the voice said, its tone cold and unyielding. "Your enemies are near. Be ready."
Díkē's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on Reaper's Edge. "Show yourself."
The ground beneath him began to tremble, and the water rippled as a massive, serpentine creature emerged from the depths. Its scales were black as night, its eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. It let out a deafening roar, its fangs gleaming in the dim light.
Díkē smirked, his eyes gleaming with a cold, unyielding light. "Finally, a challenge."
The battle was fierce and chaotic. The serpent moved with terrifying speed, its massive body thrashing and twisting as it tried to crush Díkē. But Díkē was faster, his movements fueled by the ruby's energy. He dodged and countered with swift, precise strikes, Reaper's Edge cutting through the serpent's scales with ease.
The blood knights joined the fray, their crimson blades slicing through the serpent's flesh. Díkē could feel their strength, their power, and it filled him with a sense of grim satisfaction.
Finally, with a powerful strike from Reaper's Edge, the serpent let out a final, guttural roar and collapsed to the ground, its body dissolving into shadowy mist.
Díkē let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, his body trembling with exhaustion. But despite the fatigue, he felt a surge of triumph. He had faced a powerful enemy and emerged victorious.
Malachar materialized beside him, his eyes gleaming with approval. "You've done well, Summoner. But this is only the beginning. Your enemies grow bolder, and they will not stop until you are destroyed."
Díkē nodded, his resolve hardening. "Let them come. They will only add to my strength."
As he turned to leave the marsh, he felt a sense of purpose burning in his chest. He was no longer the weak, cast-aside son of the Aegis family. He was Díkē Aegis, the chosen of Death, and he would make them pay for their betrayal.
---
**End of Chapter 13**