I Became the Progenitor Vampire - Chapter 155

Chapter 155: Chapter 156: We Must Obtain the Divine Artifact, No Matter the Cost! (Added More)

Stanley glanced at the solid stone wall before him, built of thick green stones like a castle’s formidable rampart, and nodded slightly, a hint of contemplation flashing in his somber eyes.

Even the sin-ridden slums harbor wealthy merchants; in fact, this land rife with vice generates wealth no less significant than that of several other districts.

It’s just that most people earn Gold Puck only to die before they can spend it.

A team of guards clad in full Dwarf armor opened the iron-casted manor gates upon seeing Stanley and his guide, inviting the two inside.

“Good evening, Lord Nathan, welcome to your arrival,”

The guide nodded without uttering a word, signaled slightly, and two guards promptly came forward to lead the way.

Stanley silently watched all this, his eyes keen as a falcon’s from the shadows.

The expansive manor seemed like a palace, creating a stark contrast to the dilapidated slums outside.

Exotic subterranean plants, a Magic fountain, Elf-crafted Angel statues, and various luxurious buildings were ubiquitous.

Compared to the outside, this place looked like the tranquil Divine Country of the Divine Beings; it was hard to imagine that it and the sin-filled district outside lay on the same land.

Soon, Stanley and his guide arrived at the main hall.

After the guards opened the main hall doors, carved with floating Angel reliefs, they turned and left.

Stanley followed his guide into the house; as the guide entered the room, he turned and retreated into a corner, as it was not yet his place to be there.

A luxurious hall brilliantly illuminated by Magic Lamps appeared before Stanley, and the shadow-obscured face beneath his cape was faintly visible.

In his early forties, with the typical face of a Nolan person, a hooked nose, blue eyes, and freckles on his face,

the long scar across his face lent an indescribable terror to his visage.

But what captured the most attention was the chilling coldness in those blue eyes, reminiscent of a venomous snake, poised to strike fatally at any moment.

About a dozen figures in the room turned their heads toward him all at once, some showing their true faces, while others remained mysterious, cloaked in their capes.

Stanley’s eyes narrowed slightly; this wasn’t his first time attending such a gathering, but it was his first since reaching Level 15.

The normally mundane crowd now exuded an aura that made his heart race with fear.

Aside from a few ordinary humans, it was the Alien Race member on the left, with eight arms and a serpentine lower body, that posed the greatest threat to him.

An Abyssal creature, an Eight-Armed Snake Demon, Level 16. The combat prowess of this abyssal creature was extraordinary, and even at Level 15, Stanley had no desire to become its enemy.

Noticing Stanley’s gaze, the Eight-Armed Snake Demon narrowed its slender, green eyes slightly, flicking its long serpent tongue and curling the corners of its mouth into a cold smile.

Stanley quickly averted his gaze, directing his attention elsewhere.

The Mage next to the Eight-Armed Snake Demon, exuding rot and a Death Aura, with pale complexion, also made his brows furrow deeply.

An Undead Mage, Level 14.

Although not Level 15, this fiercely evil being was no less threatening to him than the Level 16 Eight-Armed Snake Demon.

Additionally, the auras of several unidentifiable figures filled him with dread.

After stepping into Level 15, he had only then begun to grasp the terror lurking in Green City’s shadows.

Indeed, the largest city in the south had layers far from simplistic.

And the dominion in the south, this land fraught with vice, wasn’t as transparent as it appeared on the surface.

“Good evening, Mr. Stanley,”

An elder seated in the place of honor, with grizzled hair, dressed in a black tailcoat, and over sixty years old, gracefully greeted Stanley with a Nobles’ bow.

“Good evening, Viscount Bernard, it is an honor to be here in your manor.”

Stanley returned the gesture with a touch to his chest, indicating great respect.

This was the master of the manor — Viscount Bernard; nobody knew what the old man’s surname was, they just called him that.

As for the true power of Viscount Bernard, his position among many terrifying beings was sufficient to reveal everything.

Stanley turned and removed the concealing cape from his face.

Instantly, his features were laid bare before everyone in the room.

The pronounced hooked nose, gaunt cheeks, and that scar running across his forehead, combined with his brooding gaze, imparted a bone-chilling, fierce demeanor.

—

However, none of the attendees were naive youths, and their faces remained unchanged.

Viscount Bernard offered a slight smile to those present, embodying the poise of nobility, as he began to speak aloud.

“The representatives of the Late Bell Church have arrived, so let’s formally commence the meeting of the Dark Contract.”

The Dark Contract–had Lide heard this news, he would have widened his eyes in shock.

For on Emi’s attribute board there was a Vice President of the Dark Contract. It was just that he had never paid much attention to it.

“As you wish,”

“Viscount Bernard, please begin.”

The crowd, initially murmuring in low tones, quickly fell silent.

“This time, our discussion concerns the Crimson Mage Tower…” Upon hearing this name, the Eight-Armed Snake Demon perked up with interest, shifting its gaze from Stanley to Viscount Bernard.

“The Crimson Mage Tower has sold a vast number of scrolls lately. According to my calculations, the quantity has already surpassed ten thousand, and they’ve also struck a deal with five major trade guilds in Green City, promising to supply even more Magic Scrolls in the future.

Yet, the Mage Tower cannot have the capacity to produce Magic Scrolls at such a rate in less than half a year–not even with the support of the White Tower, where the Great Mage Spark resides.

Therefore, I suspect they have acquired the Twelve Magic Scrolls.”

Viscount Bernard’s statement sent a shiver through the crowd.

“The Twelve Magic Scrolls?! Aren’t those the legendary ultimate Divine Artifacts of magic??”

A hidden figure expressed surprise.

“Legend has it that there are precisely twelve of the Twelve Magic Scrolls, supreme Divine Artifacts personally crafted by the Creator God. Each scroll holds boundless power. Could the Crimson Mage Tower truly possess such Divine Artifacts?”

Interest flared in the eyes of the Undead Mage, for magic was what truly intrigued him.

A cryptic look flashed through Viscount Bernard’s eyes, inscrutable to outsiders.

“The twilight of the gods is upon us, and the great Evil God shall once again reign over this world. The appearance of a Divine Artifact is no mere coincidence.

To be able to produce thousands, even tens of thousands of Magic Scrolls in such a short time, nothing but the power of a Divine Artifact could account for it.”

He stated with finality.

“We must obtain the Divine Artifact, no matter the cost!”

“But the Crimson Mage Tower is under the protection of the White Tower, and Green City is no easy target. As long as that Extraordinary Mage exists, no one can breach Green City…”

The chilling voice of the Eight-Armed Snake Demon was enough to make one’s hair stand on end.

Within this city, only that being who had reached Transcendence over a hundred years ago could instill such fear.

No one understood the power that came with Transcendence better than he did–no one!

“I have already devised a method to deal with the Extraordinary Mage,” Viscount Bernard declared with strong conviction.

Transcendent beings might be almost invincible, but that did not mean one had to confront them head-on.

“But what if the item inside the Crimson Mage Tower isn’t a Divine Artifact?” Stanley could not restrain himself from asking. “If they have another method, wouldn’t our great risk be in vain?”

“Not a Divine Artifact?

Lord Stanley, just having a way to produce Magic Scrolls on such a large scale would be sufficient.

Do you think the daily production of hundreds, perhaps thousands of Magic Scrolls, would yield less benefit than a single Divine Artifact?”

Viscount Bernard’s voice carried immense confidence. Even the most powerful professionals needed ample Gold Puck to acquire what they desired.

Hearing these words, the surrounding crowd paused for a moment before greed swelled in everyone’s eyes.

Magic Scrolls represented wealth, power, and having a method for their mass production meant their strength would grow exponentially fast.

No one could resist such temptation.

Silently and imperceptibly, a conspiratorial meeting aimed at the Crimson Mage Tower was unfolding.

Among them were loyal Believers of the Evil God, leaders of Underground Forces, hidden Undead Mages, and malevolent members of Alien Races.

Everything was moving towards an unknown destiny.

—