The caravan driver swore loudly.
"DRATS! Who let them out?"
Mortis frowned, confused. He looked at Malachai, who was lying on the ground beside him.
Malachai, however, seemed to understand.
"Have the Dungeon Dwellers come out again?"
The driver glanced back and nodded.
Malachai immediately moved toward the front. Mortis followed close behind.
What Mortis saw made him stop.
The ground ahead had split open—a jagged hole in the earth.
And beside it… sat a child.
The child was small, pale, and filthy. Its body was thin to the point of fragility, bones pressing sharply against its skin. It looked like it hadn't seen the sun in years.
Malachai's expression darkened.
"Who let it out?"
Mortis frowned.
He didn't like the way Malachai spoke—like the child wasn't even human.
Is it even human?
…Does it matter?
Before he could think further, Mortis jumped down from the caravan and approached slowly.
"My Lord, you mustn't!" Malachai called out sharply.
The child looked up at him.
Dark hair. Dark eyes.
It stared at his bright red robes with quiet intensity.
Its own clothes were little more than rags. Its collarbones jutted out so sharply that Mortis felt he could count every bone if he got closer.
He stopped a few steps away.
"Do you… speak?"
The child shook its head.
"Why?"
A thin finger rose and pointed weakly to its throat.
"Does it not work?"
The child nodded.
Malachai cleared his throat.
"Dungeon Dwellers have contaminated blood. That is why they cannot speak properly."
Mortis' expression tightened.
He stepped closer anyway.
He hadn't been around children in years.
This felt… strange.
Time to put these Blood God powers to use.
He gently placed his hands around the child's throat.
The child didn't resist. Perhaps it didn't have the strength to.
[Skill activated."Divine Blood Purification" is beginning.]
A sudden red light engulfed the child.
The child's eyes widened in shock.
Mortis' breath hitched.
This… takes more out of me than I thought…
His legs nearly gave out beneath him.
After a minute, the light faded.
The difference was immediate.
The child's skin held color now. Its eyes were clearer. There was a faint, fragile vitality where there had been none before.
"What—how did you—"
The child suddenly clutched its throat and fell forward, gasping.
"Ah—"
It froze.
Then—
"IT'S… WORKING!"
Behind Mortis, someone gasped.
He turned.
Both Malachai and the caravan driver stood frozen, staring at him in shock.
"What… are you?" the driver whispered.
Malachai straightened, his voice rising with dramatic reverence.
"Well, of course—he is our Lord and savior… the Almighty Blood God."
The driver's face went pale.
"WHAT?! You're a god?"
He immediately jumped down and prostrated himself.
"My Lord! Forgive my sins! I am but a foolish mortal!"
Mortis barely registered it.
A faint glow flickered in front of him.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATIONFollower count: 3]
Mortis blinked.
Then slowly turned.
The child was looking at him with wide, shining eyes.
Understanding dawned.
Oh… that's how.
He hesitated.
Should I… say something?
"Would you like to join us…?"
He paused, then awkwardly added,
"…young one?"
Mortis cringed internally.
My friends would never let me live that down.
The child nodded eagerly and bowed.
"I shall forever be indebted to you, my Lord."
Mortis cleared his throat and looked away, uncomfortable.
Malachai was already staring at him with renewed reverence.
The driver remained prostrated on the ground.
Mortis sighed.
This is going to be a long caravan ride…