Chapter 155: Bone-Crushing Truth
“I’ll tell you how to break the Vassalization.”
That single sentence made it clear — negotiation was inevitable.
If they could release Rihanna from the Vassalization, she would once again be a full-fledged asset on their side. On top of that, they would have taken the troublesome sorcerer Hellic’s left arm with almost no collateral damage.
It was nothing but profit, and precisely for that reason, Isaac’s rational mind became even more suspicious. A deal with no downside at all was something he regarded with extreme caution.
“ …The terms are way too good for us,” he muttered.
-Nibble, nibble.
He ignored the feel of Rihanna biting the front of his shirt from where she clung to his chest and continued,
“You’re saying the only price is for us to explain the difference between Jonathan and Scarlett? That’s absurdly favorable to us.”
“Haha.”
It was a dry laugh — little more than a brief noise to fill the silence.
“What is trivial to one person can be priceless to another,” the Blood Fiend said softly. “Just as the way to free Rihanna means almost nothing to me.”
“…….”
“So? Will you let me meet the child who may be my little brother?”
The Blood Fiend’s smile was gentle, almost pitiful. Yet Isaac couldn’t say the emotion behind it was pure.
“I have one condition.”
His voice was as sharp as a blade, and for a moment, the Blood Fiend’s expression tightened before smoothing out. People like Isaac — those whose reason crushed their instincts — were always the hardest to sway. Charm, empathy, alluring words… none of it worked on them.
Dropping the wounded-doe act, the Blood Fiend asked, “A condition? What is it?”
“What do you intend to do with Jonathan once you learn the truth? That’s what matters. If you plan to hurt him, I can’t tell you anything.”
“Oh my, is Jonathan more important to you than this girl?”
With a tilt of her chin, the Blood Fiend indicated Rihanna, as though weighing something precious on a scale. Isaac remained firm.
“It’s not about who’s more important. I need to know. That’s all.”
“…You really are an infuriating man, aren’t you?”
She sighed, but a smile still curled her lips. Every attempt to twist the conversation and corner Isaac kept backfiring, boxing her in instead.
“So prickly… Perhaps you didn’t borrow the name of Helmut for nothing?”
“Stop deflecting.”
Whether she let it slide because of the grim woman beside him hefting a massive saber, or simply because she, as a lover of beauty, could forgive that much rudeness for his looks, the Blood Fiend wasn’t sure. Probably the latter, she decided.
“I’ll say this clearly: if Jonathan carries Blood Fiend blood, I have no reason to harm him.”
No reason to harm him.
It was vague, but prying for more seemed pointless; even the woman with the cleaver showed no sign she would press further.
“Fine,” Isaac exhaled. That was insurance enough.
“Jonathan is a hybrid. He displays several traits you do—not only outwardly…” Memories flashed through his mind of the abyss realm, of Blood Fiends slaking their thirst with human blood inside the tower. “He… enjoys the sight of human blood.”
“…!”
The Blood Fiend’s eyes flared wide, a sly smile blooming as though she’d just confirmed her suspicions.
“But there’s another side to him,” Isaac pressed on. “Jonathan serves as a knight of Helmut. He’s fighting his nature, living proudly as a knight.”
“That’s right!” Sharen chimed in, perhaps out of a sliver of fondness. “Jonathan may be an idiot, but he’s still Helmut’s knight.”
The Blood Fiend let out a bemused chuckle.
“Little one, no matter how proudly you brandish Helmut’s greatsword and call yourself a knight, you are still human at the end of the day—”
And Jonathan, at the end of the day, could never escape the Blood Fiend blood in his veins.
The smile on her lips dripped with satisfaction, as though declaring Jonathan’s years of struggle utterly meaningless. Her indifference to everything that followed rubbed Isaac the wrong way; he knew how hard Jonathan had worked.
But now wasn’t the time for a war of words.
“All right,” he said. “You’ve heard what you wanted.”
Which meant it was time for her to cough up what he wanted.
“How do we break Rihanna’s Vassalization?”
His arms tightened protectively around Rihanna. Feeling how dearly he held her, she bit down on his shirt even harder. If she voiced what was in her heart right now, she feared Isaac might recoil from her.
“First, understand this,” the Blood Fiend said. “A pure human can never be freed from Vassalization. Think of it like dripping blood into clear water — it can never run perfectly clear again. Even staying intact the way she is now would be impossible.”
She arched a brow, then added with a faint smile.
“But your funny little Helmut lot are, amusingly enough, descendants of Hellic. There’s a trace of Transcendent blood in them. That is the only reason she hasn’t fallen to pieces already.”
Isaac said nothing, eyes narrowing.
“There are several ways,” the Blood Fiend continued. “The simplest? The subject dies.”
“Don’t waste your breath.”
If Rihanna’s death were on the table, this discussion would never have begun.
The Blood Fiend laughed lightly, as if it had only been a joke. “Vassalization is, in the end, a leash. So we could always change who holds the leash.”
“Change the master?” Isaac asked.
“Exactly. Right now, I’m the one holding it.” She mimed swinging an invisible collar. “Shall I hand it to you? The girl seems to adore you. You could claim her, ravish her, use her, discard her at will—”
“Watch your mouth.” Isaac’s warning cut icy-cold.
A thin smile curled on the Blood Fiend’s lips. “But even that won’t work. Do you understand why?”
FWIP—!
Enormous wings, dark and membranous like a bat’s, unfurled behind her. They blotted out the gentle afternoon sun until the village felt plunged into false dawn.
“Unless my head comes off, no one can take that authority. And I don’t intend to die.”
Now Isaac understood why she had so casually laid out the answer: she was utterly confident. Rihanna would never be wrested from her, because she believed she could never be killed.
“At last,” rumbled the Grandmaster, stepping forward. She slid the massive saber from her shoulder back into its sheath — a gesture which, for her and Isaac alike, signaled not peace, but the resumption of battle.
“Ah, really…” The Blood Fiend shook her head. “I’m not that sort of brutish creature.”
Her wings beat once, stirring a gale. “Still, thank you for the chat. I’m terribly busy. If I’m to meet our Jonathan, there’s much to prepare.”
Wind howled. The Grandmaster leapt straight into it, sword flashing.
“Where do you think you’re going? You wound my feelings—!”
The blade became a streak of light — and blood rained like a summer squall. Figures of the Transcendents, hidden behind the Blood Fiend’s wings, had rushed to intercept and were cleft in two for their trouble. In that single heartbeat of distraction, the Blood Fiend was already a speck on the distant sky.
****
That night,
They chose to spend the night just outside the village.
They could not divulge every detail — what Scarlett truly was, whom she had served — but they had to tell the villagers to let her memory go.
The air rang with wailing.
Even after hearing the full truth, sobs and lament rose from every corner of the settlement: the cries of men mourning Scarlett’s death.
“Good grief…” muttered the Grandmaster.
“Are they stupid?” Sharen huffed.
“We saved them from the witch who was draining them dry, and instead of gratitude we’re refused a roof over our heads,” the Grandmaster growled.
They had intended to sleep inside the walls, but the townsfolk’s violent resistance forced them to pitch camp beyond the gate. At least they’d managed to barter for provisions, so supper was plentiful.
“Seriously! How can people be so shameless?” Sharen fumed.
“No wonder they were duped,” the Grandmaster clicked her tongue. “Blind fools, the lot of them.”
Both felt deeply wronged by the villagers’ attitude — and indeed it was brazen, considering how Scarlett had toyed with the men’s hearts.
The village women, in contrast, had quietly thanked them.
Isaac, however, simply stared at the distant lights of the town.
“What are you thinking?” Rihanna asked, noticing the stiffness in his face.
He hesitated before answering. “Just… realizing something.”
“Realizing…?”
“They’re crying because love blinded them.” His gaze softened. “And that… isn’t so different from us.”
Rihanna turned her eyes to the village, blank for a moment, then nodded carefully.
“So that’s why the Grandmaster and Sharen can’t understand,” she murmured.
“……”
“They’ve never been in love.”
Thwack!
“Why strike me all of a sudden?” the Grandmaster barked, rubbing her arm.
“What now, unnie?!” Sharen sputtered, as Rihanna burrowed sheepishly into Isaac’s embrace.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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