Central City was a sprawling beast of steel, glass, and magic. Unlike the Academy, which was orderly, the city was chaotic. Mana-rails hissed overhead carrying commuters, while gargoyles perched on skyscrapers watched the streets with glowing red eyes.
Ren landed in an alleyway in the Red Light District. The air here tasted of cheap perfume and burned mana.
He adjusted his Shadow-Weave Mantle. It wasn't just a coat; it was a shroud that dampened his presence, making him feel like a ghost walking among the living.
He walked up to the massive black doors of The Gilded Lily.
Two Minotaur bouncers, each standing seven feet tall and armed with stun-batons, blocked the path. A long line of hopefuls waited behind the velvet rope.
"Membership?" the left Minotaur grunted, smoke puffing from his nostrils.
Ren didn't say a word. He flicked Damon's Platinum Card between his fingers.
The Minotaur's eyes widened. The scent of high-grade enchantment on the card was unmistakable. He bowed low, stepping aside.
"Apologies, sir. The VIP Lounge is open for you."
Ren walked past the envious crowd, ignoring their whispers. He stepped into the belly of the beast.
The VIP Lounge
The inside of The Gilded Lily was an assault on the senses.
Heavy bass thumped against Ren's chest—a rhythmic, hypnotic beat woven with subtle charm magic to lower inhibitions. The air was thick with purple haze. Succubus dancers performed in suspended cages, their skin glowing under blacklights.
Ren walked to the bar. The bartender was a four-armed Djinn, mixing glowing blue cocktails with supernatural speed.
"What can I get you?" the Djinn asked, his voice sounding like grinding stones.
"Information," Ren said, leaning on the bar. He slid the black card across the counter. "I'm here for Damon's usual order. The 'Special Reserve'."
The Djinn paused. All four of his hands stopped moving. He looked at Ren, then at the card.
"Damon hasn't been in for days," the Djinn rumbled.
"He's... indisposed," Ren said smoothly, his eyes flashing violet. "He sent me to handle the transaction."
The Djinn stared at him for a long moment. He sensed the danger radiating off the boy—a cold, void-like pressure that made the fire spirit uncomfortable.
"Downstairs," the Djinn muttered, pointing to a secluded staircase guarded by a shimmering privacy veil. "The Orchid Room. Don't make a mess, or the Manager will eat your soul."
Ren took the card back. "I'm a neat eater."
The Deal
Ren descended the stairs. The music faded, replaced by a tense silence. The basement was a series of private booths protected by high-level sound barriers.
His [Void Sense] pinged immediately.
[Alert: Demonic Essence Detected]
[Source: Booth 4]
But there was something else. A second energy signature. It was bright, searing, and frantic.
[Alert: Holy Essence Detected]
[Source: Booth 4]
[Status: Unstable / Corrupted]
A priest in a drug den? Ren thought. Interesting.
He activated the Shadow-Weave Mantle.
[Skill: PHASE SHIFT]
Ren turned intangible. He walked right through the privacy curtain of Booth 4 like a phantom.
Inside, three men in expensive suits—Yakuza enforcers with visible tattoos—sat on one side of a glass table. An open briefcase sat between them, filled with vials of the bubbling red Demon Blood.
On the other side sat a woman.
She was trying to hide beneath a heavy hooded robe, but Ren could see the golden embroidery of the High Church on the hem.
She pulled back her hood slightly to wipe sweat from her brow.
Ren recognized her instantly from the news feeds.
Seraphina. The Saintess. The symbol of purity for the entire Kingdom.
But she didn't look pure right now. She looked like a junkie. Her skin was pale and clammy. Her blue eyes were bloodshot and frantic. Faint black veins were crawling up her neck, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
"The price has gone up, Your Holiness," the lead gangster sneered, leaning back. "Supply and demand. The kids at the Academy are eating this stuff up."
Seraphina coughed, a wet, ragged sound. She clutched her chest. "I... I don't care. Just give it to me. The pain... it's burning."
"Five thousand credits," the gangster said. "Up front."
Seraphina's hands shook as she reached into her robe. She pulled out a heavy pouch of gold coins and slammed it on the table.
"Take it!" she cried out, her voice cracking. "Just give me the blood!"
Ren watched from the shadows.
[Target Analysis: Seraphina]
[Level: 25 (Healer)]
[Condition: Holy Parasite] – Her Holy Magic is too strong for her body. It is burning her from the inside out. She uses Demon Blood to numb the pain.
She's not addicted to the high, Ren realized. She's addicted to the numbness. She's suffering.
The gangster laughed, reaching for the gold. "Pleasure doing business with the Church."
Ren decided he had seen enough.
He dropped his invisibility.
He appeared sitting right next to Seraphina, his arm casually draped over the back of the booth behind her shoulders.
"That's a bad deal, sweetheart," Ren said loudly.
The reaction was instant.
Seraphina screamed, jumping away. The three gangsters stood up, kicking the table over, their hands flying to the mana-pistols in their jackets.
"Who the fuck are you?" the lead gangster shouted, aiming the gun at Ren's head.
Ren didn't flinch. He crossed his legs.
"I'm the guy who's going to save you a lot of trouble," Ren said calmly. "Leave the blood. Leave the gold. And get out."
The gangster sneered. "Waste him."
He pulled the trigger.
BANG.
A bolt of condensed fire magic shot toward Ren's face.
Ren caught it.
He didn't use a spell. He just caught the bullet in his hand. The [Void Gauntlet] materialized instantly, swallowing the magic before it could explode.
Ren opened his hand. Smoke curled from his palm.
"My turn," Ren said.
[Skill: VOID STEP]
He vanished.
CRACK.
Ren reappeared behind the leader. He grabbed the man's head and slammed it into the glass table. The table shattered. The man went limp.
The other two thugs tried to run. Ren extended his hand.
[Skill: CORRUPTION BLAST (Dual Cast)]
Two bolts of black energy shot out, hitting the thugs in the legs. They screamed as the decay magic ate through their expensive suits and withered their muscles. They collapsed, writhing on the floor.
Silence fell over the booth.
Ren stood amidst the broken glass and groaning bodies. He turned to Seraphina.
The Saintess was pressed against the wall, trembling. She looked at the violence, then at Ren. She was terrified, but her eyes kept darting to the vials of Demon Blood on the floor.
"You..." she whispered, clutching her holy symbol. "You're a monster."
Ren walked over to her. He picked up a vial of the red liquid. He held it up to the light.
"And you," Ren said, stepping into her personal space, "are a fraud."
He looked down at her. Up close, the smell of her corruption was intoxicating—like rotting flowers.
"You don't need this poison, Saintess," Ren whispered, crushing the vial in his hand. The glass shattered. The blood dripped from his fingers.
"No!" Seraphina wailed, reaching out. "I need it! The burning... it won't stop!"
Ren grabbed her wrist. His skin was hot against her cold, clammy flesh.
"I can stop the burning," Ren said, his violet eyes locking onto hers. "But my cure is a lot more... invasive than a potion."