Dark Omens

XIII

Steven's eyes gleamed with a dangerous hint of gold, the first true sign of his anger. The subtle shift in color was a telltale sign of his heritage—one that most common folk would overlook, but not me.

The Amsten Clan… How much did I remember about them?

Their founder, Stella Amsten, had been a legendary warrior—one whose thirst for battle seemed almost inhuman. Her legacy was unusual as well; instead of direct descendants, she had adopted a human boy and raised him to carry on the Amsten name. A narcissist through and through. It wasn't until recently, after barely surviving an encounter with her blood-frenzied corpse during a grave-robbing incident, that I discovered the truth—Stella Amsten had been a vampire all along.

And, of course, there was the little-known fact that the Amstens were dhampirs—half-vampires. Which made sense… but didn't really explain anything. 

When did Stella Amsten become a vampire?

I sighed inwardly. This looked like prime material for an expansion storyline, but I had to remind myself—this wasn't a game anymore.

Still, Steven Amsten wasn't just some noble playing lord in his city. The [Level 66] above his head told me everything I needed to know. This man was dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than the blood-frenzied corpse of Stella Amsten that I had once fought.

I folded my arms, keeping my voice calm and measured. "Unfortunately, I cannot give you this ring."

Steven's expression didn't shift. If anything, he seemed amused. "I will pay you a fortune."

A tempting offer, if I were a fool. Instead, I leaned back slightly in my chair and smirked. "His Imperial Majesty's spy network is filled with quite talented people if they managed to link this ring to you so easily."

That got a reaction. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure. "What are you implying?"

I tilted my head. "Nothing, of course. Unless… you're misappropriating the intelligence resources of the Empire for your personal benefit."

Steven narrowed his eyes, his golden gaze hardening into something much more calculating. The air between us grew tense. He wasn't an idiot—far from it. He knew exactly what I was doing. He just had to decide whether to back off or escalate.

Finally, he let out a low chuckle. "Who are you? An Imperial Auditor?"

I shrugged. "Be careful. Impersonating an Imperial Auditor is a capital offense."

Silence.

Then Steven smiled. It was not a friendly smile.

"I see," he mused. "You're quite the interesting man, Nicholas Lorekleim."

I merely met his gaze, unflinching.

It made me wonder—why did he want the ring, Dark Omens?

Back in the Legacy of Amsten quest in the game, the ring had been given as a mere reward. Nothing about it had ever suggested it was so valuable that the Amsten patriarch himself would personally move to claim it. So what was different now?

Then, suddenly—

A flicker of vision. A surge of hostility.

I saw myself—no, felt myself—getting my heart torn out. The moment the killing intent registered, I activated Time Stop.

Everything went still.

Steven remained frozen in place, standing as if he hadn't moved an inch. But the intent had been there. I had seen it, courtesy of the ring.

"Interesting."

I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing as I scrutinized him. And that was when I saw it—the glint of a familiar ring on his finger. A replica of Dark Omens.

Sheesh… so that was it.

Back in the game, the Dark Omens given as a reward must have been a fake. That meant the one I was wearing now—the one Steven so desperately wanted—was the real one.

And then there was that vision, that eerie premonition of my own death.

I remembered the ring's old flavor text from the game: "A cursed relic that grants its wearer a fleeting glimpse of their inevitable demise."

"Very interesting."

I walked around Steven, took my time inspecting his frozen expression, and then headed toward the door. With a casual motion, I opened it and let time flow again.

Steven blinked, his expression unchanged—but I knew better.

"I think we have nothing to talk about."

I lifted my hand slightly, making sure the glint of Dark Omens caught his eye.

"If anything, I suggest that you don't kill me. Or even think about trying to kill me. Because I would know."

And just to drive the point home, I smiled.

I felt it again.

A pulse of hostility through Dark Omens.

But this time, there was no vision of my death—just an unsettling sensation, like something was creeping just beyond my perception. My gaze flickered downward. Steven's shadow was… wrong.

I frowned. Steven Amsten was a canon fodder NPC… wasn't he?

Back in Questworks, when the vampire infestation had worsened, Steven had been promoted as an advisor to the Emperor. The very next day, his face had been plastered all over the papers—killed by a vampire. In other words, he had been a complete background character, someone barely worth remembering.

Yet here he was, radiating danger.

And I knew next to nothing about his build.

Questworks didn't have a strict Class System like traditional RPGs. Instead, players could learn whatever skills they wanted, provided they met the necessary requirements and activation conditions. Skills were deeply woven into the game's lore, so I had a decent grasp on most of them.

Steven's current ability… it was hard to say for sure, but I had my guesses.

"Probably Shadow Magic, Summoning, or some kind of Stealth skill."

I decided to test something.

With Time Stop activated, I approached him and delivered a solid punch to his face.

Would he feel that?

Unlike Stella's blood-frenzied corpse, Steven didn't seem to possess insane durability. He also wasn't moving at super speed, meaning he lacked the resistance that prevented me from moving people inside a time-stopped world.

That was good to know.

I closed the door, walked over to the sofa, and let time flow again.

Steven flinched. His shadow—whatever it had been trying to do—sputtered out and dispersed. He turned toward me, scowling.

"What did you do?"

I tilted my head. No bruise on his face. Figures. Between his dhampir bloodline and his Level 66 stats, the guy was plenty durable. Still, his shadow had failed to manifest, which meant my physical attack must have interrupted his skill activation.

I let my gaze linger on the floor where his shadow had been.

"I did nothing." I shrugged, then added with a smirk, "But it seems you won't leave me alone unless we settle this."

Steven's golden-tinged eyes locked onto the ring on my finger, his expression unreadable. He wasn't trying to mask his intent anymore.

"I want that ring. I won't settle for less." 

 "Oh?"

"It is a legacy of my clan. You wouldn't understand how important it is to us."

I leaned back into my seat, watching him carefully. He was still standing—his posture stiff, his stance firm. A man unwilling to lower his guard.

"I will pay a fortune for it," insisted Steven. "Name your price."

"If it's such an important legacy… then tell me." I gestured lazily to the ring. "What's its name?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Steven's face. He masked it quickly, but I caught the brief widening of his eyes—the tension in his jaw.

He didn't know.

He was insulted by the question. Ashamed by the answer.

The Dark Omens was never recorded in any of the Amsten archives. The only place its name had been written down was in Stella Amsten's personal journal. And that journal, as of this moment, was still inside her casket.

"That's a shame." I tapped the ring against my armrest. "It's important to remember an ancestor's legacy, don't you think?"

Steven's expression darkened, his anger barely restrained. But then, with a sharp inhale, he composed himself.

"I will ask again. I am willing to pay any price. Give me the ring."

I sighed.

Some people really don't understand the word 'no.'

Without a word, I activated Time Stop.

The world froze.

I stood up, walked over to Steven, and grabbed him by the shoulders. He remained motionless, his frozen golden eyes still locked onto the spot where I had been sitting.

I dragged him to the sofa and forced him into a seated position.

Once satisfied, I strolled back to my own seat and let time flow again.

Steven's eyes flickered as he registered the change. His brow furrowed as he glanced around, his body tense. "What—?"

I exhaled, resting my chin on my palm.

"Now that you're sitting, let's talk properly."

Steven exhaled sharply, finally recognizing how outmatched he was. His golden eyes flickered with frustration before he leaned back, conceding defeat.

"What are your demands?"

I took a moment to reflect. It was clear now—I was a fearsome opponent for Casters. Steven had barely displayed any martial prowess so far. Everything about him, from his reliance on shadows to his careful movements, screamed Caster.

And against me, Caster-types were at a severe disadvantage.

I stopped time and leaned back, thinking it over. I didn't have a superhuman intelligence stat, but what I did have was all the time in the world. I deliberated, weighing my options.

And then, I decided.

I could be more daring.

 "I am willing to loan it to you."

Steven's expression remained unreadable, but I could tell he was assessing me. His gaze flicked from my hand to my throat.

Then—

A flicker of a vision.

A dagger slicing my throat.

Time Stop.

"That's done it."

I shifted to the left of the sofa, just out of the trajectory of his imagined strike, and let time flow again.

My voice came out cold.

"Do that again, and I will kill you. Damn the consequences."

The only reason I hadn't already was simple—the Empire was a vindictive son of a bitch, and Steven was a high-ranking individual. Killing him wouldn't just bring problems. It would bring war.

Steven exhaled, this time truly calming himself.

"I understand."

Understand my ass. Fuck you.

 "My terms are simple."

I laid them out, one by one:

The ring would be loanedto him for ten years. The contract would be renewable every ten years.If the Amsten Clan went extinct, the ring would be returned to me.If Idied, information about his bloodline would be spread across the Empire.Every year, he would supply me with a Skill Book of my choosing.Every half-year, he would provide me with a Superior-grade equipment of my choosing.Every month, he would pay me fifteen million worths.And for every day I breathed, he would call me by my surname.

Steven clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth audibly.

"That's excessive."

I wasn't done.

"This contract will be destiny-bound. If either party reneges on the deal, misfortune will befall them and extend to their entire bloodline—until the last of their generation dies out."

Steven stiffened, his fingers curling into fists.

"Oh, and you'll acquire a Legendary-grade equipment of my choosing… to replace the ring,"

Steven shot up from his seat.

"This is unreasonable!"

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my palm.

"Why? Can't handle it? I've been trying to tell you no, but you don't seem to understand." I sighed dramatically. "Now that I've put conditions that even a retard like you should comprehend, you still shout at me like I'm some uneducated fool. Agh, shit, now my throat is parched from talking so much."

I waved toward the door, irritated.

"After accommodating you this much, you still complain? You're really leaving me no choice here, Steven."