Chapter 160: Saran Lane

"You... she... all of you—" Aive was so shocked she could barely form a sentence. "How did you do that?!"

"Silvia! You didn’t drink Victoria’s blood, did you?" Sera shouted, pointing at the white hair on Victoria’s head. "Look at what you’ve done! You’ve made Victoria grow old!"

"Sera!" Victoria sighed, helping a still-weak Silvia to her feet. "Don’t be ridiculous, this has nothing to do with Silvia!"

"Uh, well, I guess it is related... but it has nothing to do with drinking blood!"

Victoria held out her other hand. The Holy Emblem of Heim was clutched in her palm, and for some reason, the light it emitted seemed to have grown deeper in color.

"Got a nice patina on that thing?" Ron’s nonsense was immediately met with a collective eye-roll. A Priest’s Holy Emblem was like a Mage’s Spellbook—who had ever seen a Mage wear out the pages of their Spellbook? That was a Magical Artifact used for Casting!

"I suppose my Deity has answered me," Victoria said, smiling with a mix of confusion and relief. A gray-green halo of light appeared on the palm holding the Holy Emblem—it was the negative energy she had just learned to channel.

"Th-that’s impossible, right?" Ron was stunned. "Victoria, don’t tell me you prayed to some Evil God?!"

Heim... what sort of Deity was he? He was the Guardian, the Ever-Vigilant One, the Watcher! As the god of vigilance and protection, he was the patron of guardians, lookouts, and sentinels. Only those whose duty it was to remain vigilant against enemies and danger would worship him.

And what was a Vampire Descendant? Half Vampire, half Undead Creature. Rounding up, that was practically half an Evil Demon! A Priest of Heim trying to heal half an Evil Demon—was her Deity really going to approve that request?

"The only Deity I believe in is Heim," Victoria said with a solemn expression. "And when I held to the belief that Silvia is my companion, my friend, and my comrade-in-arms—not a Vampire Descendant—Heim naturally answered me."

"My duty is to protect my companions and guard against outside threats, not see them as threats. What I’ve been granted is proof of that. I’m not wrong about this."

In any case, it was a good thing that Victoria had gained an additional ability, and with it, the issue of Silvia’s heritage was also resolved. But for now, how were they going to leave this place?

Or rather, where was "here"?

"We’re under the caverns," Delaford said, scouting the area. When it came to underground environments, no one here was more of an expert. The goblin pointed to the stone ceiling above. "Sera, I need you to lift me up so I can get a better look for a weak spot."

The goblin was a small fellow; Sera picked him up with one hand and held him high over her head. Delaford surveyed the area, finally located a spot, and stuck a Crossbow Arrow into it.

"Right here, smash it open!" Delaford jumped down and hurriedly warned, "Everyone else, watch out! Above this is—"

SPLASH—

When Sera put all her strength into a single sword strike against the stone ceiling, the fragile rock instantly shattered from the pressure above. A torrent of fetid liquid poured down, drenching even the Shadow Spirit in the back, who was still in a daze, until she was soaked to the skin.

"You could have warned us sooner!" Sera angrily wiped her face. "What *is* this smell?! The stench of rotting corpses?!"

Even she could hardly stand the sudden, pungent liquid.

"Flesh, soul, both are rotting..."

The Shadow Spirit, standing in liquid up to her calves, got to her feet. She walked to the fissure, looked up, and pointed a finger at several figures suspended above. "Those must be the people you’re looking for. They’re all up there."

"The soul of the short one on the end can still be saved, but as for the Sorcerer wreathed in fire..."

THUMP!

A head rolled to the edge of the opening, and behind it appeared a battered and bruised Devin Booker, reeking of grilled fish.

"You have survived? Excellent!" The Fishman Paladin froze for a second as he looked down, then joyfully extended a welcoming arm. "Come up! I have vanquished all the Elemental Creatures here, yet the evil has not abated."

"You are people of integrity. Why not join with me to close the Elemental Plane and banish all these evil elementals from this land?"

"It’s not just the elementals you need to worry about. There are other puppet masters behind them," Ron said with a bitter smile as Devin Booker hauled him out of the hole. He pointed up at Wilson and the others, and then at the furnace, which had stopped running but was still perfectly intact. "See all this? Unless you drag out the mastermind behind this whole scheme, your mission will never end!"

Having just fought in a brutal Blood War, Devin Booker didn’t have the Energy to notice such details. It wasn’t until Ron pointed it out that he finally registered it and began to survey his surroundings.

"This is... Shamanic arts," Devin Booker said, pointing his trident at the furnace. On it, six Elf skulls were arranged in the shape of a hexagram. Wisps of violet-green smoke still drifted from the skulls’ orifices, not yet completely gone. "I just wonder what master from the surface is responsible for this. There are absolutely no such evil rituals in the sea!"

"That would be me, of course."

Before the Paladin had even finished speaking, a voice Ron was sick to death of hearing rang out from the depths of the gloomy cavern. It was followed by the classic, sinister sound of a slow clap.

However, the volume wasn’t what Ron had expected—it was far too loud!

"Ming Datiss!" Sera’s hands tightened around the Grip of the Vast Wave as she stared tensely into the darkness, from which over a hundred figures were slowly emerging. "How can there be so many Ming Datisses?!"

"Ming Datiss is but a clown, a jester, a codename," all the "Ming Datisses" spoke at once, their combined voice shaking dust from the cavern ceiling. "I had planned to keep playing with you using him, saving the final reveal for your moment of ultimate despair. But you people... you truly have no appreciation for the art of waiting."

"You killed him, I ’revived’ him, but you foiled my plans time and again."

These "Ming Datisses" seemed to have reverted to the same arrogant state as before Ron had first killed him... or them. The one who had turned and fled at the first sign of trouble must have been nothing but a Phantom. Now, their strides were steady and powerful as they formed a closing circle around Ron’s group. They moved with an air of absolute confidence, an unstoppable tide. If Ron hadn’t stumbled upon the plan by chance, then in time, these "things" would have swarmed the surface. Delusional Land, and even the surrounding areas, would have undoubtedly fallen under the shadow of the Hailan Empire once more!

"Oh, by the way," the "Ming Datisses" abruptly halted. They spoke in unison, their expressions natural, their speech and movements fluid—utterly unlike the impostors Ron’s group had faced before. "Before I kill you all, shouldn’t I properly introduce myself?"

"I am the last scion of the Hailan Empire! The direct imperial bloodline! The union of the great Laine Clan and the Von Richthofen Clan! I... am the Baron Green Swamp, Saran Laine!"

"You foolish ants from the north, who have never even heard my title! I grant you permission to tremble, to kneel, to wail! If you can manage to amuse me in your final moments, I will grant you a most generous gift—eternal death!"