"Anyway, since you're idle and up to no good, help me clean up."
"But I still need to think about how to... tomorrow."
"Hmm?!"
"Why have you suddenly become so fierce, you blockhead? Did you take the wrong medicine?"
"What did you say??"
"Nothing, nothing."
Throne gave a sheepish laugh and had to bury his head in his work, thinking to himself that women really shouldn't be provoked.
This 'Complete the Blockhead' plan wasn't entirely a good thing. Ranni had a strong personality, Melina was becoming increasingly unruly, and Sellen was born with a tendency to boss people around; life in the future probably wouldn't be easy. Neither of them spoke, just quietly wiping away the bloodstains.
Ignoring the murderous and horrific elements, it was actually no different from a normal family. This went on until the middle of the night. Throne went out to pour a basin of bloody water into the ditch, and when he returned, he saw Melina sitting on a chair with her head bowed.
"Sleepy?"
Throne always felt it was strange to ask this, but it was a good habit he had cultivated in her.
"Yeah, I don't want to go back just yet. After spectralizing, there's simply no concept of time."
Melina, who used to be eager to spectralize, had now changed her tune. Being able to eat and sleep outside was so much fun.
"There's a bed over there, get some rest. Patches won't be back so early."
"No, that bed stinks. It's full of the smell of sweat and blood."
Melina had become particular, glancing at Throne.
"Let me borrow your shoulder to sleep on."
"Fine, but for fairness' sake, you have to return the favor next time." Melina immediately became vigilant and asked, "How do I return it?"
"Do you remember that night at the Raya Lucaria Academy?"
The young girl looked up, recalling that night when Throne rested on her lap.
Thinking about it now, it felt a bit strange, but at the time, she hadn't thought much of it.
"Deal." Throne smiled, brought his stool over, and patted his shoulder.
"Come on, I can take it."
"It's just borrowing a shoulder, is there any need to act so heroic?"
Melina made a strange expression, leaned her head over, and closed her eyes.
It was magical; as she leaned on Throne's shoulder, she felt an infinite sense of security, as if she had entered an impenetrable fortress, unaffected by the howling storms outside. As usual, she gave up on thinking, and before long, soft snoring could be heard. Throne turned his head to look, seeing her fair skin and beautiful features under the candlelight.
He reached out to brush aside her bangs and saw her slightly trembling eyelashes. Since it wasn't the first time, he didn't have much to feel emotional about. From the initial indifference to curiosity, and from curiosity to habit, compared to when they first met, Melina was almost a different person, save for her core.
"Indeed, 'wood' is no longer appropriate, but 'blockhead' is still very fitting." Throne muttered to himself, then smiled. Melina was no longer a piece of wood. She no longer endured loneliness or viewed everything with indifference. For instance, Throne was an old pro at leering—when they first met, his gaze had gone from her chest to her face.
But back then, aside from a slight disgust, Melina didn't care at all, like a mission machine without any emotions. Let alone bickering with Ranni and Throne, she wouldn't even glance at them. But now it was different. Having met so many people, experienced so many things, and with all the effort Throne had put in, let alone wood, even a rock would have to hatch a chicken.
"Sigh, why am I sleepy too?"
Throne yawned, tilted his head, and it just happened to touch Melina's. At the same time, he closed his eyes, feeling the same sense of security. The candlelight flickered; a man and a woman sat head to head, shoulder to shoulder, in the quiet solitude.
Deep sleep wasn't something Throne was accustomed to. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he felt his head lose its support and woke up with a start.
"Huh, I actually fell into a deep sleep?"
The startled man wiped the corner of his mouth and found that Melina beside him had disappeared, which surprised him. He always slept lightly during missions.
He hadn't expected to fall into a dead sleep without paying attention. If an assassin had appeared, wouldn't that have been disastrous? This violated a warrior's code.
"When did this girl disappear without saying a word?"
"Just now."
As soon as the voice fell, Melina's voice entered his mind, sounding a bit muffled.
"Next time you sleep, don't drool. You got my collar all dirty."
"Nonsense, I always sleep lightly. That drool must be yours."
"Don't try to fool me! I checked carefully after I woke up this time; it was yours!"
Tsk, she's actually become smarter. Throne scratched his face. His skill of shifting the blame had failed for the first time. Fortunately, his skin was thick enough, so he simply remained silent.
Haima Classroom's punishment gave him an intuitive impression; Patches was very close, it seemed he had finished his business and returned. He gave a light cough, wiped all the smiles from his face, and propped his legs on the table.
"Time to do some real work."
His aura was as deep as the sea, and every word carried a cold murderous intent, which stunned Melina, who was peeking.
It was hard to change her impression. The transition between the gentle youth and the bloodthirsty demon was completed in an instant, making it hard for her to tell what was real and what was fake. She thought to herself if she had been fooled by this guy again. Creak—
The wooden door was pushed open, and a sneaky bald head poked in.
Seeing Throne sitting in such an unbridled manner, he hurriedly put on a fawning smile.
"My Lord, the matter has been taken care of."
Throne didn't speak, just watched him quietly until Patches' forehead was covered in cold sweat. Only then did his gaze shift to his hand, which was still wrapped in bandages.
"Next time, it won't be as simple as just a finger. I will hunt you down, find you, and turn you into the purest blood to merge into my body."
Patches only then noticed that all the blood in the room had disappeared. He wondered if this pervert had eaten it. Cleaning up last night had been messy, but the spotlessly clean room was even more terrifying.
"Absolutely not, please rest assured."
Patches squeezed out a smile and hurriedly offered the intelligence he was holding.
"My Lord, this is what you wanted."
Throne crooked his finger, and the paper was sucked into his hand by gravity. This kind of precise magical control made Patches hold his breath again. He had seen many mages, and perhaps only those magic professors could do this.
Glancing over it, it turned out to be a map with many markings on the side, recording the movements of the dragons in Caelid in previous years, as well as some rumors.
"'Dragon Hunter' Theodorix has entered Caelid? Why does this name sound so familiar?"
"A giant dragon was discovered near Caelum. According to the description, it should be an Ancient Dragon. Could this be Lansseax?"
The information was detailed, much of which had reached the level of military secrets, and it didn't look like nonsense. As long as Haima Classroom's punishment was active, it would be useless for Patches to flee to the ends of the earth.
"My Lord, it's, it's not bad, right?"
"Where did you get this intelligence?"
Throne raised the map with deep curiosity.
Indeed, the day hadn't been wasted; this sleazy bald man had opened his eyes to a lot.
"I have my own channels. And there's an old saying: money can blur the line between life and death."
Patches relaxed completely; he had already demonstrated his value. Every trade has its master; Throne couldn't manage to get involved with people from various factions from all sorts of shady angles.
His acting skills weren't bad, but he never lowered his head or acted servile.
"Patches, you are a talent."
Hearing this, the bald man relaxed completely and hurriedly raised his hand.
"Then can my unintentional offense be forgiven? Is this mark..."
Before he could finish, a bag was tossed over. He took it and looked inside; it was packed full of Runes. That fawning face immediately became greedy.
"I said it before, this is a transaction."
Throne stood up. He wasn't actually much taller than the other party, but that sense of oppression made Patches unconsciously hunch his back. Slap. A hand rested on his shoulder, making him tremble all over. The man's mouth leaned close to his ear, his tone slow and bloodthirsty.
"Are you willing to work for me and my Lord? Rest assured, you won't be treated unfairly."
I'd rather have freedom. Patches didn't want to board the Bloody Finger's pirate ship; that represented huge risks. But seeing the Flowing Curved Sword at the other's waist that had reaped over a dozen heads, he nodded hastily.
"No problem, I've long wanted to serve the great Mohgwyn Dynasty."
This was a lie, which of course couldn't fool Throne, but he didn't care. The intelligence had been obtained; even if Patches betrayed him, he could just go settle the score with Mohg. Throne stuffed a folded note into the other's pocket.
"I have already seen your abilities. This is my Lord's command. Get the item, and you will benefit infinitely."
Patches opened it and saw it was indeed written in blood. Every character appeared hideous and full of evil, but when he saw the content clearly, he wished he could slap himself. Why did I have to brag? Where am I supposed to find this thing?
"My Lord, this, this might be a bit difficult. I'm just a small fry, how dare I meddle..."
"Difficulties are meant to be overcome. You have time to do this, but remember, you must do your best. Otherwise, I'll find you a good spot in the pool of blood."
As the words fell, a cold blade was quietly placed against his neck. Patches didn't dare turn his head, because yesterday it was this ghost who cut off his ring finger. From beginning to end, he didn't know who the other person was.
But he could guess with his butt that this must be a demon of the Mohgwyn Dynasty, like a maggot on the bone that could never be shaken off. Fortunately, the Runes in his hand gave him some comfort. Even if the risk was high, the reward was high too. If it were a free favor, he would have found a way to escape long ago.
"Give, give me some time, and I'll get the item for you. How shall we trade then?"
"I will find you. Remember, every word and action of yours will be reported to me by the Blood Maiden."
Throne patted his face. So that thing is called a Blood Maiden, and it's attached to me. Patches remembered this key point, and then his eyes slowly widened. A large amount of blood surged from the cracks in the floor, forming a bewitching curtain of blood.
It crawled over his body like a fluid, turning the dim room into an ocean of blood. He wanted to run away, but his body seemed to be restrained; he couldn't move a single step. By the time his entire vision turned bright red, he couldn't even see the figure of this Bloody Finger. It was eerie and terrifying, drawing out all the fear from the depths of one's heart.
When his nostrils were filled with the stench of blood, he heard the other's voice.
"Do your work with peace of mind, and wait for me to find you."
Splash—
The blood curtain fell like a waterfall onto the floor. Patches, covered in bright red, stood blankly, the figure before him having vanished along with the blood...
Stars pricked the darkening sky as Throne emerged beyond the town's edge. His shovel bit into damp earth, carving a shallow grave for the blood-soaked cloak. No arcane rituals here—just theater. But when performed by hands like his, even cheap tricks gained weight. The crunch of approaching footsteps announced Melina's return.
Right on cue. The Tarnished had scurried off like a whipped dog, exactly as predicted.
"Chronic poison would've been cleaner," Melina said. Her nose wrinkled at the lingering iron scent.
"All this drama for vermin."
Throne scratched behind Torrent's ears. The warhorse snorted.
"Pressure a man too hard, he'll bite. Dangle gold before his eyes? He'll run himself ragged chasing it."
His fingers found the spot that made Torrent's leg twitch.
"Basic psychology."
Melina unfolded the stolen note again. Moonlight bled through the parchment, illuminating impossible demands.
"You sent that gutter rat to rob a dragon's hoard. It's cruelty disguised as opportunity."
A chuckle rumbled in Throne's chest. Sweet summer child.
"Ever met a man called Patches? He'd sell you your own shoes and you'd thank him for the privilege. Success isn't the point—it's what the attempt reveals."
"Then why the blood magic pantomime?"
She flicked phantom gore from her sleeve.
"Now half the Weeping Peninsula thinks you're some deranged cultist. And what in Marika's name is a 'Blood Maiden'? Am I supposed to be—"
"Flourishes!"
Throne spread his arms like a carnival barker.
"First rule of deception: always leave them questioning reality. Bonus points if they blame the wrong monster."
He swung onto Torrent's back, leather creaking. The offered hand hung in empty air.
Melina dissolved into blue motes rather than touch him. Typical.
"Torrent! Caelum calls."
Hooves struck sparks from the cobbles as they vanished eastward. Behind them, the town's festive lanterns glowed unaware—until the wind shifted. Coppery stench flooded the streets.
Creak—
The door groaned under a gauntleted push. Iron boots trod sticky boards, each step peeling crimson prints from the floorboards. The masked figure tilted his head, pale braids swaying. Demon visage. Old man's hair.
Blood formed strange sigils beneath his feet, half-dried now.
"Which colleague did this?"
The words slithered through his teeth. Distant shouts echoed—guards finally noticing the slaughter. He knelt, fingertips skating across tacky patterns.
Not incantation.
Not true art.
Just clever butchery dressed in sacrificial robes.
His glove came away rust-red.
"Who," he murmured to the empty room, "would bother faking our work?"