Chapter 467 259: Pulling the Tiger's Skin

"Open yourself to him! Let him grant you his blood!" Baron bellowed. He shouted so loudly because the flow of time around them was accelerating. He had to seize this chance and use the remaining blood to refine Vivian into a Blood Servant.

Vivian, not suspecting a thing, probably figured that if the Blood God commanded it, there must be a reason. After a brief hesitation, she released the last of her mental resistance.

Baron's blood effortlessly took control of her body, refining even her very heart.

To Baron's surprise, he discovered a faint, almost mystical sense of control over Vivian, like invisible threads connecting them. This feeling told him that if he gave an order, Vivian would carry it out without hesitation—even if it meant her own death.

At the same time, through these threads, he could also perceive many more extending outward from Vivian, only to be severed by the room's Alchemy Array.

Baron understood at once. These lines had to be the connection between Vivian and those who had drunk her blood. The array severing them was probably why everyone in the auction hall had lost control.

An idea suddenly struck Baron. He reached out, forming his Mental Power into a pair of large hands that grasped the threads.

Vivian's prostrate body trembled again.

Baron plucked the threads from Vivian's body and tied them to himself, even fashioning them into a neat little bow.

Then, he looked down at Vivian, who still didn't dare raise her head. "Remember your duty. Not a word of what happened here gets out. Otherwise..."

He let out a theatrical, cold snort.

It sent another shudder through Vivian. "I would die a thousand deaths for my Lord," she said respectfully.

'Quite the flatterer,' Baron thought with a smirk. He closed his eyes and fell silent. The candlelight carved his face into shadow and light.

Suddenly, a BANGING at the door erupted like a thunderbolt after a flash of lightning. In that instant, the flow of time snapped back to normal.

Baron let the red eyes of the Blood Faction fade, his Golden Eye flaring to life once more. With the skill of an Oscar-winning actor, he drew his Spear Sword, pointed it at Vivian on the floor, and said:

"Perhaps you should tell me how exactly your grandfather, Dunbar, died."

Hearing this, Vivian lifted her head. Her gaze fell upon Baron's Golden Eye. She glanced around, saw that everything had returned to normal, and understood that the "Blood God" had likely departed. She let out a long sigh of relief.

She reverted to her usual demeanor, by turns graceful and coquettish. Of course, in her current form as a little girl, the affectation only made her look adorable.

She gave Baron a complicated look. "I never imagined you were a Divine Envoy of the Blood God."

Baron shrugged. "Not really. It was just a deal."

Of course, there was no deal. Baron had made the whole thing up. For a workhorse screenwriter from the dregs of a film company in his past life, spinning a little tale was child's play.

Although, in truth, he had very nearly been converted into a different species entirely.

Vivian didn't ask about the deal, probably figuring there was no longer any point.

She said, "Don't bother asking what organization I belong to. A binding has been placed upon me, one far stronger than the blood-link between us... But don't worry too much. You're bound to read the name of my organization in the newspapers soon enough."

'A Lawbreaker organization this arrogant?' Baron was stunned. 'So much for the "quaint and simple folk of Britain."' He wondered what this group's motives were, and if they had anything to do with his own wrongful imprisonment.

Vivian glanced at the door, which was beginning to give way under the constant impacts. "I'll draw these Knights away," she said. "You need to get out of here, quickly..."

Baron said, "They're only Black Iron Tier. I can handle them."

"But they'll attract the Silver Tier Knight," Vivian said. "Even though he drank the wine laced with my blood, the difference in our Tiers is too great. I'm no match for him."

That made sense to Baron. Silver Lion Wilder was indeed an anomaly, a glitch in the system. Baron figured that if he went up against Wilder now, he'd be chopped into mincemeat.

In fact, the more his own power grew, the more acutely he realized this.

It was like his school days in his past life: there were some people you could just glance at and know, instinctively, that they were terrifyingly capable. In the might-makes-right world of the Inner Side, Silver Lion Wilder was undoubtedly the equivalent of that prematurely old-looking kid with the buzz cut, glasses, and goatee you'd see acing the math exam.

And that was precisely what made Baron curious.

'Back at King's Cross Station, why did Silver Lion Wilder let him go? Was he afraid of the Alchemy Bullet? Get real. As a Bronze Tier, Baron felt he could probably tank a few shots himself. Wilder was Silver Tier; there was no way he'd be scared of a single bullet.'

'So what was the reason?' Baron shook his head. If he couldn't figure it out, he wouldn't dwell on it. He didn't have the energy to try and read another man's mind right now. This wasn't his old nine-to-five job.

Vivian spoke again. "The message you had that Westminster Bank agent send was, just as you'd expect, intercepted by the Dragon Eater Association. London Tower might have received it, but I'm afraid they have their own hands full."

'Intercepted? The Dragon Eater Association is that powerful? Could they have sleeper agents in the upper echelons of the Old Blood Clans and the Law Enforcement Organization, just like the Immortal Cultists in the Prole Fude City Government?'

"Their hands are full?" Baron asked.

"The Dragon Eater Association isn't stupid. Right now, in Berthelili, every person and organization capable of stopping them from unleashing the Mad Dragon is trapped inside this auction hall. The only other group capable of a rapid response that they don't control is that bunch of Wizards in London Tower."