The Damned Demon

Rebecca reached the door and paused for a mere second before pushing it open. The room beyond was dimly lit, but the muted sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains highlighted a bed in its center. On it lay Oberon Drake, his usually vibrant face pallid, lost in an eternal slumber.

Noticing Rebecca's entrance, two maids, dressed in simple dresses with aprons, who were attending to Oberon immediately straightened up, their movements hurried.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, one of the guards inside the room made to speak, but before he could, Rebecca's voice, as cold as ice, rang out, "Leave," she commanded curtly.

The maids exchanged fleeting glances, their faces pale, before nodding and making a hasty retreat.

The guards followed suit, each offering a deep bow to Rebecca as they filed out of the room. The heavy door clicked shut behind them, leaving Rebecca alone with her son.

The harsh demeanor that Rebecca had maintained melted away in an instant. Her eyes, which had always been cold and calculating, now shimmered with unshed tears.

She moved gracefully, the rustle of her gown the only sound as she approached the bed. Sitting beside her son, she gently caressed his face, the touch filled with a mother's love and longing.

Her eyes softened with motherly love as she delicately took out and held an elegant bottle. The crimson liquid inside swirled, its rich texture captivating, akin to fine wine aged to perfection.

"My dear son," she began, her voice tender and filled with emotion, "today you would have celebrated your 100th Blood Anniversary. Though you remain in this deep slumber, I have brought you a gift," The bottle gleamed under the light, emphasizing its preciousness.

With reverent fingers, she traced the intricately designed patterns on the bottle, "This is no ordinary blood," she murmured, almost to herself, her tone dripping with pride, "It is from House Thorne, my own lineage, and dates back 800 years," Slowly, she unscrewed the cap, and the room was filled with the rich, metallic scent of the blood. Her face lit up with a mix of nostalgia and bliss as she inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating aroma.

Carefully, she tilted Oberon's head and gently opened his lips, pouring the radiant blood into his mouth. The thick liquid shimmered as it flowed, a reflection of its power and purity, "This blood," she continued, her voice filled with conviction, "is from an S-Rank woman of those times. It possesses unparalleled strength and vitality. It should nourish you, keeping you healthy and strong until the end of the Quest of the Worthy...I hope…"

Drawing the bottle back, she delicately recapped it and set it down on a bedside table. Her gaze, previously warm, shifted, and a chilling glint appeared in her eyes, "And once the quest is over, my son," she whispered, her tone venomous, "I promise you, you shall rise again. That alien wretch who dared harm you will rue the day he crossed our path."

Her visage transformed, the loving mother now replaced by a vengeful one. She stood up, her posture regal and commanding, as she walked towards the window. The light framed her silhouette, casting a long shadow across the room.

Her lips twisted into a venomous smile as she stared out, her thoughts a storm of rage and vengeance, "Even if he manages to return alive, his days are numbered," she vowed, her voice a cold promise of retribution.

2 months ago,

Rachel led her team into a Safe Zone in the Tidal Tempest, their footsteps creating soft imprints on the ground that glowed briefly before fading while the sun had barely risen.

Ten Hunters, their armor scuffed and expressions wary, trailed behind, their steps noticeably heavier. They seemed out of place next to Rachel's team, like wolves following a pride of lions.

Since they had to run away from their shelter, they kept traveling non-stop, trying to put as much distance between them and the Demon Rippers. They couldn't risk taking a chance being close to people involved in a bounty hunt.

Amelia, her expression soured, "Disgusting brutes," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "Because of those five, we lost weeks' worth of resources," She felt her nerves tremble at the thought of working so hard for weeks and all the effort going down the drain.

Rachel sighed, her eyes scanning their meager supplies, "We'll have to save up for a shelter in the next mini-dungeon," she remarked, looking at Victor, who seemed lost in thought, his usually alert eyes distant, "Victor, did the Demon Rippers survive? They said they'd reach out after the bounty, which was already over a few hours ago."

Victor's eyes snapped into focus, his gaze settling on Rachel. With a slight shake of his head, he responded in a casual yet slightly stiff voice, "They're dead."

Amelia scoffed quietly, a look of genuine disbelief forming on her face, "Huh? How did they manage not to stay alive? Especially after you went to all the trouble of getting Boden and so many others to help?" Amelia remembered how, right after the Demon Rippers were forced to run, Victor led them to a Safe Zone and announced in public, calling for a favor.

And obviously, due to his influence and power, so many Hunters volunteered to lend a hand. She felt so frustrated at that time, thinking that with so many of them helping the Demon Rippers, the bounty would nothing be a fun time for them.

However, the reality was quite astonishing, and she never expected the Demon Rippers to still fall after getting literally a small army to help them.

Victor's smile was thin, subtly unsettling, "The Umbralfiend Princess must've rallied quite the force. Her group alone couldn't have taken down Axton and his friends. She got herself some powerful allies. This only means we should be careful and not underestimate them."

Rachel, her eyebrows knitting in confusion, shook her head, "It doesn't add up. Hellbringer and his group gathering so many powerful allies in this short time frame? It's... it's improbable. Unless they had such allies to begin with, and even that would be quite the coincidence."

Victor's sharp green eyes seemed to pierce the distance, narrowing slightly as he mulled over the situation, "You're right. The timeline doesn't fit. As far as we knew, they were tagging along with a bunch of Umbralfiends before. We are definitely missing something important here."

Standing not too far from them, Yui, her fingers clutching the hem of Emiko's dress, whispered, "Do you think... he could really be that strong?"

Emiko, her eyebrows arched in surprise, gave Yui a sidelong glance, "I've seen a lot in our time here," she admitted quietly, "but this is... unexpected." A sigh of relief left her lips, which Yui mirrored, both thankful for the continued existence of their Master.

For the past few hours, they felt like they were walking on thin glass since if he died, they would drop dead too. Only as the hours passed were they feeling more relieved.

However, the moment was interrupted by a sharp exclamation from Amelia. She pointed toward the middle of the Safe Zone, her gaze fixed on a swelling crowd, "What's going on over there? Quite the commotion."

Rachel squinted, trying to get a better look. "There's a heated discussion of some sort," she observed, "We should go see what it's about."

Without waiting for an answer, she strode forward, her team falling into step behind her, each one curious as well.

Rachel and her team weaved their way through the crowd, the murmurs growing louder.

"Is it true?" one woman asked, eyes wide with trepidation, "Is the Golden Prince really back?"

A younger Hunter whispered, "I heard his ghost is stuck here. How terrifying! To think that even in death, he'd haunt us."

Amelia, her posture rigid and alert, scanned the crowd. Hearing the name 'Golden Prince' sent a jolt of surprise through her, and she immediately locked eyes with Rachel.

Rachel's usually determined blue eyes were filled with shock and disbelief, and there was a subtle tremor in her gaze.

Acting swiftly, Amelia clapped her hands with a loud smack, drawing the attention of the entire crowd. The murmurs died down instantly, "Who is spreading such nonsense tales?" Amelia demanded, her voice echoing in the sudden silence.

A lanky man, his face masked with anxiety, hesitantly pointed to a group at the center, "It's them," he said, his voice shaky. "They claimed to have seen his ghost."

"Move!" Amelia's command was sharp, filled with the authority that came naturally to her. The crowd parted like a river, making a clear path to the group in question. They were a disheveled bunch, with a mix of men and women, all wearing expressions of genuine fear.

As Amelia approached with Rachel and the team in tow, she placed her hands authoritatively on her hips, "Speak," she ordered, her eyes scanning the group. "If you're spreading lies and causing unnecessary panic, you'll regret it."

One of the women from the group stepped forward, gulping nervously. "We're not lying," she began, her voice quivering. "We truly saw something... "

The murmurs grew louder around them, but they were hushed once more as Victor suddenly stepped forward, sidelining an annoyed Amelia.

The weight of his aura pressed on the atmosphere, adding to the tension, "Exactly what did you see?" His voice became suddenly cold, demanding, every inch exuding the aura of a powerful Elite Hunter.

Amelia wasn't surprised to see Victor like this since she knew he and the Golden Prince weren't exactly friends, considering what happened between them. The memory of that only made her curve her lips.