390 The Demon Compac (2/2)
The viscount closed the door tight and activated all the magic traps, then walked into the secret chamber in his study. In the chamber, there were rows of beautiful females at different ages lying there, with their faces flushing like roses. It looked as if they were just sleeping.
The way that the viscount looked at them was sick and crazy. As if he was appreciating a piece of delicate artifact, Nour reached out his right hand and gently stroke one of the little girls' faces, who was just about thirteen or fourteen. He felt the coldness from her skin.
”They never understand… Bodies are the best in this world. Women with intelligence, they betray, they lie, they cause troubles… Only bodies are perfect! The coldness you feel when you touch them, and the soft muscles… This is art!” murmured the viscount crazily.
After being transformed into a vampire by a countess, Nour had developed necrophilia. Other vampires disdained him strongly, thus he needed to hide in human society to enjoy.
Suddenly, he sensed a certain stir in the air, and to his great shock, Nour discovered that he could not move anymore. In the mirror at the other end of the room, he saw a mysterious man wearing a black robe standing there.
”What… do… you… want?” Even his throat became very stiff.
Nour was very afraid. He knew that the man must be a senior-rank sorcerer as the third-circle necromantic trapping magic was very powerful.
”I was about to borrow a bit of your blood from you, and let you sleep for a while,” said Lucien disgustedly, ”but now… I have to say that I'll take your head.”
After leaving the World of Souls through another gap, Lucien tried to find the vampires hiding in human beings society. Since Prince Dracula was still chasing after Rhine, turning himself into another vampire and returning to Night Highland was Lucien's best way out.
”No!” shouted Nour bitterly, but the sound he made sounded somehow ridiculous.
The bright light overwhelmed Nour and the beautiful bodies behind him.
...
Antiffler, Holy Heilz Empire, the grandest city in the world.
Standing in the corner and staring at the magnificent city wall built to prevent the invasion of the giants, Beaulac Von Anjou, the immediate member of the Gorse family, looked rather gloomy.
”Young Master, we shall go now.” A thin man in a black jacket walked to him.
Beaulac turned around and slightly nodded, ”I hear you, Giz. Hopefully, we can get something this time.”
”Master Beaulac, the duke is still going to last for a while.” Giz looked at the young man who was quite anxious, smiling.
As one of the most famous and long-living families in Holy Heilz Empire, the Gorse family today still had two gold knights and was in charge of its own order of chivalry - The Order of the Gorse. Since the eldest son of the old duke passed away many years ago, Beaulac had become one of the most promising contenders for the title because of his pure blood. However, for some reason, he had not awakened his Blessing yet, thus right now his competitor, Arthen, a level three grand knight, was having a great edge over him.
Thinking of how arrogant Arthen was and all the noble pleasers around him, Beaulac felt very humiliated.
He had sworn in his mind that one day he would make all the people who had once abandoned him feel extremely regretful!
Realizing that the magic potion from his family would not be helpful to him, after experiencing the great inner struggle, Beaulac finally made up his mind and came to the black market to seek for an amazing magic item that could do the job.
Led by Giz, Beaulac walked into an ordinary-looking villa. Under the villa, in a basement way more spacious than it would seem, hid the biggest black market in Antiffler.
Picking up magic items one by one and then dropping them down, Beaulac looked very disappointed.
At this time, a white-haired old man walked to him.
”Young man, I've seen your destiny in the crystal ball. Do you want to know it?” The mysterious old man smiled.
Beaulac's eyes suddenly opened wide, and he looked at the crystal ball in the old man's hand. How dare the sorcerer just show up like this in the black market?
”I don't believe in fate. Everything is a blessing from God.” Obviously, Beaulac would not easily trust a stranger.
The old man wearing the black robe did not mind it, ”It's fine. One's destiny is always changing. If you are desperate, come to me.”
And then the old man left.
Shaking his head, Beaulac continued to look for the magic item he wanted. It was already the ninth time that he came there. As a quite stubborn person, he believed in the power of number nine. Beaulac was convinced that it was most likely for him to find the thing he wanted this time, and if he failed, the hope would become slim to none.
Right now, he was becoming more and more disappointed.
Maybe… maybe he could never defeat Arthen. Beaulac was beyond depressed.
”Young master… maybe we can try… I mean, the divination…” Giz suggested.
After a long silence, Beaulac nodded.
They went to the old man's booth and sat down, ”Please.”
The old man grinned as he gently stroke the crystal ball. It quickly became turbid inside.
Spots of light shone in the crystal ball and soon disappeared. The old man looked up and said, ”You're expecting a great shift in your destiny.”
”What is that?!” burst out Beaulac nervously.
The old man said slowly, ”What I can see is that it will happen in the remote villa left by your father when the darkness arrives.”
Beaulac was shocked that the old man had seen the remote villa belonging to his father. His father's mistress once lived there, and most of the family members did not know.
After paying the old man two Thales, Beaulac left the booth. Somehow, when he looked back, the old man had disappeared together with his tiny booth!
In the entire black market, they never found the black-robed old man again.
”Where did he go?” Beaulac and Giz exchanged a look filled with shock.
...
When night arrived, in the remote villa, Beaulac had dismissed all the servants. He tried to find something special in the house as indicated by the old man, but found nothing.
Beaulac became even more confused as he murmured to himself in the study. It was already mid-night, and the silver moon was hanging high in the sky .
When he was totally desperate, he saw that a beam of moonlight fell on his father's portrait. Under the moonlight, Beaulac saw the index finger of his father's right hand slightly distorted, pointing inward.
Inward?
Inside!
Beaulac jumped up from the couch and took out the portrait from the frame. After checking the portrait carefully, he discovered a piece of parchment behind it.
The parchment reminded him of his father's words that he was told a long time ago, ”When you feel beyond desperate, come and see the portrait to find your power.”
Beaulac's memory was rather vague. He hurriedly unfolded the parchment excitedly.
A piece of white paper fell out from the parchment roll, and he saw the familiar handwriting from his father.
”Beaulac, when you have lost all of your hope, you may want to borrow power from the compact. However, you cannot sell your soul to the demon, nor can you rely on it.”
His breath became very heavy. The parchment was written in the ancient language of Sylvanas:
”The rule of demon: you pay when you want to get! Are you willing to accept it?”
Beaulac bit his lips tight and he gripped the parchment in his hand. After a while, he nodded heavily.
A line of words appeared on the parchment. Although Beaulac did not know the language, somehow he could understand it,
”You, who wants to sign the compact, shall follow the steps to summon the most powerful demon: when the clock strikes twelve, light a white candle in front of a mirror. With your hair disheveled, peel an apple. If the peeling goes all the way from the beginning until the end, and the candle does not go out, you will summon the demon!”