Translator: SumTLMan
Leon gently pushed the door open.
Before him lay a moderately long staircase, culminating at a landing encircled by balustrades and flanked by iron doors on either side.
As Angel approached the balustrade and cast his gaze downward, his countenance became instantly etched in shock.
Humans!
Countless, teeming humans!
The vast underground wine cellar was filled to the brim with them!
They were draped in tattered cloth, and the unique patterns on the fabric suggested that, in their original state, these were the garments of servants.
A number among them, female servants, still bore the recognizable hem of a maid’s attire. Yet, now, most of their bodies were exposed, the pallor of their flesh glaringly conspicuous.
Yet, there was not a hint of allure in the scene.
For they were all skin and bones, gaunt to the point where their skeletons seemed just beneath their skin. At a glance, it resembled a dungeon under the reign of a particularly cruel slavemaster.
A stench of decay, feelings of horror, and palpitations ensued.
Initially, their movements were lethargic, assuming various peculiar postures with vacant expressions. But as Angel and his party entered, perhaps having detected the scent of “living beings”, they slowly raised their heads to look up at the platform.
Upon seeing Angel and his companions.
Suddenly, a transformation overcame their eyes!
From lifelessness, they turned manic; from dull gray to a frenzied red, their expressions shifting from being stupefied to a mixture of excitement and madness. They resembled predators ravenous from a long winter’s starvation, now awakened and confronted with prey.
Many pairs of eyes, glowing a sinister crimson, stared intently from the darkness, like venturing into a damp cave and chancing upon a colony of bats thirsting for blood.
Before Angel could discern their faces, a cacophony of shrieks, roars, and eerie laughter mingled instantly. Gaunt hands reached out, clawing toward the platform where Angel and the others stood, reminiscent of frenzied devotees dancing in adoration of a malevolent deity.
“Blood, blood… give me blood!”, “The scent of the living, hehehe…”, “Kill them, kill them all!”
The crowd surged forward, pressing against the locked iron doors on either side of the platform. Unable to breach, they pounded desperately at the locks. Those at the rear, ignorant of the impediment ahead, continued their forward press, the crunching sounds echoing around them — the grating noise of breaking bones.
In their crazed state, some even turned their aggression on those nearby.
While Angel was still in shock, he witnessed severed limbs tossed into the air, blood spouting like fountains, drenching them. The combination of this grisly sight and the crimson glow in their eyes was an embodiment of eerie horror.
“These people were servants of the mansion,” Leon said, his eyes filled with sorrow. “But an incident half a month ago exposed them to a malevolent red light, turning them into the monsters you see now.” Among them were lifelong servants of the estate, some had watched them grow, and others were childhood playmates. Now, all bore a terrifying visage.
“The food on the ground, I provided it. I replenish it daily, but none of them eat. Not even the bloodied ones. They seem to crave only human blood. But where could I possibly obtain that?” Leon continued, “For half a month, they’ve consumed nothing, becoming skin and bones. Yet, oddly, they’re still alive — even those missing limbs.”
“Only the sight of the living excites them, much like the legendary ghouls.”
“Neither human nor ghost,” tears glistened in Leon’s eyes, his voice choked, “Sometimes, I wish to free them with a blaze. Yet, I hold onto the thought that, while alive, there’s still a glimmer of hope.”
Turning to Angel, Leon implored, “Angel, can you save them?”
Angel gazed down silently at the writhing figures below, striving to put aside all external emotions and scrutinizing the people beneath him.
Observing their agile movements, Angel initially believed that at least their bodies retained some vitality. However, this was not the case. Their bodily functions had completely ceased, and apart from motion, they were essentially Living Dead.
Yet, peculiarly, there was no decay. It seemed as though a certain power within their brains protected the very essence of their life.
Seeing Angel lost in thought, Leon sensed something and remarked somberly, “Is it true? Are they beyond salvation?”
A hint of melancholy flashed across Angel’s face. In truth, he was at a loss on how to help them. He turned his pleading eyes towards Sanders. Sanders, however, stood apart, deep in contemplation, seemingly oblivious to Angel’s gaze.
After a moment, Angel posited, “Lord Redhead, he must have a way, right?”
Leon shook his head, “Mentor Suis once told me that saving them equates to ending their lives.”
Leon didn’t grasp the full weight of those words, assuming his mentor implied that given their state, perhaps a merciful death would be kinder.
“Suis was right; rescuing them is the same as killing them,” Sanders, who had been silent, finally interjected. He gently pointed his staff at the void, and a strange ripple spread. In the next instant, the crowd in the underground cellar fell silent.
“The reason they maintain this semblance of life is due to the mysterious power of the Scarlet Sovereignty present in their brains. To bring them back to consciousness, one would have to expel this power. However, once expelled, they would instantly lose their source of vitality and die,” Sanders paused, “Their end is inevitable. It’s either they perish now by expelling that sustaining power, or they wait for that power to naturally dissipate. Either way, the shadow of death looms over them.”
Sanders’ words felt like a death notice handed to this group.
Leon’s spirit shattered completely. As the Viscount of Grud Town, the agony of standing powerless before his own people, those who grew up by his side, is a pain unfathomable to any outsider.
Sanders seemed indifferent to their fate. After drawing a conclusion, he began to contemplate the effects of the Scarlet Sovereignty, “It seems the mysterious power within their minds is the crux of the matter.”
Sanders looked at Angel, “Perhaps, had you been dragged into the Abyss, you might’ve ended up like them.”
Angel closed his eyes, suppressing the surge of emotions, syncing his thoughts with Sanders, “So, does the Scarlet Sovereignty simply drive them mad?”
After a pause, Angel added, “An irreversible madness.”
Sanders shook his head, “To ascertain that, we’d need an energy assessment experiment. However, such mysterious powers are hard to quantify, and I can’t be certain of the outcome. It would be beneficial to gather more information.”
Sanders’ gaze shifted to the grief-stricken Leon, remaining silent for a moment. Once Leon’s emotions had somewhat stabilized, he inquired, “Do you recall their behavior right after they were overtaken by the red light?”
Leon, a bit stunned, replied, “They acted much like they do now, exhibiting a bloodthirsty madness upon seeing another living being. But they weren’t always so quiet. Even if alone, they’d act frantic. Perhaps being locked in the cellar for so long eventually subdued them.”
“That tranquility might be due to the self-damping nature of this mysterious power. When unable to actively absorb external energy, it prioritizes reducing consumption, a trait seen in certain unique energies,” Sanders elaborated. “Was there no other anomaly?”
Leon hesitated, “None…,” yet as his words faded, a realization dawned on him, “Wait, there was something else. They seemed to follow Lady Eureka’s movements, wherever she went, they would follow, much like loyal attendants.”
This particular detail sparked a glint in Sanders’ eyes.
“Could they have become puppets?”
In the annals of Guman’s history, Sanders recalled how each generation within the royal court of the Guman Kingdom was steeped in unwavering loyalty. Even if the King of Guman was a tyrant, not a whisper of dissent was ever heard within the palace walls. Could it be that the Scarlet Sovereignty turned them into mere puppets?
Yet genuine puppets, in truth, are easily detected. Just like the puppets in Sridhar’s antique shop, even if imbued with a human soul, their true nature could be discerned at first glance. Perhaps, what the Scarlet Sovereignty created were not just mere puppets.
Could it be similar to a mark upon the soul?
“But if the effect is indeed as such, why was Eureka herself affected?” pondered Sanders with a hint of confusion.
Angel elucidated, “The Scarlet Sovereignty bears a magical rune known as the ‘Bloodline Tracing.’ To my knowledge, this magical rune is still active. This implies that the true master of the Scarlet Sovereignty is not Eureka.”
Yet a lingering question remained. Even if Eureka wasn’t its true master, she was its wielder. How could she have possibly used such a dangerous power upon herself, especially knowing its inherent danger?
“It seems,” Sanders mused, “We might find some answers from Suis.”
With that, the topic was set aside. Sanders held his peace, while Angel shifted his gaze to Leon, who appeared lost and desolate, his eyes devoid of any sparkle.
Angel’s gaze descended upon the silent crowd below. Though their emaciated forms were skeletal, he recognized several familiar faces amongst them.
He spotted the gardener Gran, his mother’s closest confidant in life, Dr. Dink, who once studied Earth’s medicinal techniques under Jon, the Lady Knight Swatch who taught Leon the art of knighthood, and Franz, the shepherd who grew up alongside the two brothers.
Each familiar visage tugged at Angel’s heartstrings.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, Angel closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to quell the unease stirring within.
After what felt like an eternity, Angel opened his eyes and addressed his brother, “Is mentor Jon alright?”
Leon, still dazed, nodded, “Jon is protected by a barrier set by Lord Suis, and Subi stands guard beside him, ensuring he remains unharmed.”
“What about Ollie and Head Maid Mana?”