On the 19th of Red Moon, the morning after the chaos that unfolded in Blackcrest, Amare Na Xivia refused to return home with her brother. Instead, she went off on her own, determined to redeem herself. Not only did she fail to find Rodrick and find the culprit behind the Blood Purge, but she also busied herself with Pretta’s case and neglected the shipment, which had already been sent.

She knew that, upon her return, Marjory would punish her, which was why she was adamant about returning home with a prize.

Armen, however, had a different opinion and insisted to try and catch up with the shipment.

Eventually, he left Blackcrest before dawn whereas Amare roamed the eerily silent streets of Blackcrest.

Neither she nor Armen heard anything of the Duke, so they assumed he didn’t want to talk to them, which was a warranted reaction. Nevertheless, Amare was still troubled about the incident with the Faceless Death agent, stubbornly trying to figure out the truth.

‘The similarities are uncanny. It cannot be a coincidence.’

The inconsistencies and peculiarities of the whole affair were strikingly indistinguishable from what occurred in Wilsden.

‘It is the same person. I’m sure of it.’

Resolute, she resorted to Memoria and overexerted herself as she first visited the inn room Addy had previously snuck, as per Armen’s statement.

It was then that Amare finally caught a glimpse of the truth. She saw the maid and Leonis, as well as the used body of the Bloated Murderer.

The fight from last night had mentally exhausted her, so much so that she was only able to use Memoria for a limited period of time and the images of the past were vivid.

In the end, Amare used her unique ability a total of seven times, leaving her dizzy and on the brink of falling unconscious.

She wiped the blood leaking out of her nostrils, a faint and rare smile on her face. It took her a lot of effort and she was physically weakened, but she saw where her quarry had gone.

‘First, he’s a parasite. Second, Fleur Rouge helped him leave Blackcrest… but why?’

She saw him enter Fleur Rouge but couldn’t follow in, thus she waited and, later on, saw him get into a carriage that directly headed outside of the city.

‘South, was it? I should be able to track him.’

23th of The Red Moon

In a grandiose dining room within the gargantuan castle of the Aeternus Family, Majory Na Xivia was tapping her index on the table, her eyes deeply furrowed as she was pondering about something.

After having apologized for his inattentiveness to the seal between his mother and the Duke, he was fidgety as she had yet to respond.

Except for Amare and the eldest child, the rest of the Masked Queen’s children were all seated around the table.

“You had one job, Armen. Only one.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Forget about that.” Interrupted Marjory as she swept her eyes across all of them.

Her authoritative voice made them quieten down and avert their gazes. It was clear that she was in an extremely bad mood, but it wasn’t due to Armen’s failure.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed, the Masked Queen caressed a deformed black spot between her wrist and elbow.

“The Consortium will not send any help to the Dwarves. I sent Valkyrie to deal with it but she hasn’t reported yet.”

“Mother, I don’t think she would lose against that parasite.”

Armen’s remark made Marjory coldly snort as she glared at him, “You’d do well not to underestimate that abomination. It has spread its nest faster than I anticipated.”

She snapped her fingers, causing four triangular black crystals.

“Armen, Mel, Xanki, and Viktor. I’ll send you to the Western Continent to look for Valkyrie.”

She paused for a split second and took a deep breath, “Under no circumstances are you to fight that parasite, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes!” They all replied in unison, though Viktor and Mel were slightly confused. They did not think of the parasite as that big of a threat.

“Get rid of its spawns but don’t venture into its nest. I can sense that Valkyrie is still alive, but she could have been possessed.”

The four children stood up and, with the crystals clutched in their hands, they were soon enveloped by a curtain of blood which instantaneously teleported them to their destination.

“Mother, what of Rodrick? Amare hasn’t returned yet.”

“I will deal with that. You all will prepare the children and ready the cannon, we will be attacking the South again.”

“Did you see who it was?”

After checking whether the two survivors had any injuries, the Detective crouched down to meet their gaze and asked a couple of questions.

“N-no… it all happened so fast.”

A young Christopher, wrapped in a warm blanket, was shivering and sniffing as he tried to erase what he had witnessed from his mind.

“I saw it! It was a monster.”

“A monster?” The detective creased his brows as he looked at the black-haired boy.

“Yes. It had large bat wings and was over 3 meters in height.”

Arthur described the killer in vivid detail, but the detective did not believe him. He attributed his nonsensical talk to shock and immaturity.

In the end, the two boys were taken to the hospital, but the events of that massacre haunted both of them for a long time.

“Chris, you saw it, didn’t you?”

“...”

A while later, in the hospital.

His best friend stopped eating the chocolate bar and shrugged.

“I read that extreme fear may give rise to hallucinations.”

“That wasn’t a hallucination!” Retorted Arthur with a disheartened expression.

“It ate the villagers! It saw us too!”

“Then why didn’t it kill us?”-Chris

“...”

Ten years later

Arthur and Christopher, who had grown up and were no longer suffering from poverty and misery, returned to the scene of the massacre. The place was abandoned by the government and rarely saw any visitors.

“See this?”

“What?” Christopher looked at the ground, noticing a dark red graffiti with undecipherable symbols on the side and a frightening black-colored head of a goat at the center.

“It’s just graffiti. Ugh… this place still gives me the creeps.”

“It isn’t a graffiti, Chris. Look closely…”

As they knelt and inspected, they saw small English letters above the goat-like head.

“‘The Circle of Damnation’? That sounds like a cult. Come on, Arthur, it’s time we moved past this.”

“...”

Instead of responding, Arthur tried rubbing off the symbols but no matter how much he tried, they didn’t vanish.

…

Arthur’s eyes flung open, his body unconsciously sitting up. He was sweating profusely and felt inexplicably uncomfortable.

‘It’s been a long time since I dreamt of that.’

He glanced at the soundlessly sleeping Evelyn then at Mort, who was also asleep but in a standing position, his body wobbling, as was its wont.

The parasite laid back on the ground and looked at the star-filled night sky, reminiscing about the past.

‘I sure hope you're living your best life, Chris.’

Once he was done musing with himself, the sun already started to rise.

*Vampire Blood Assimilation: 97%*

To get the most out of it, Arthur did not possess the agent’s death right after leaving Blackcrest. He opted to evolve into a Wither Magick Parasite first. However, the process turned out to be relatively long, specifically the so-called ‘Assimilation’.

It has been progressing for 6 days now, and it should finish after a couple of hours.

With no clear destination in mind, Arthur and Evelyn headed South of Blackcrest. They wanted to make a brief stop at Smithy Town and Warmcross, which were settlements adjacent to each other and situated in a lush and tree-infested forest.

Now that they had a decent amount of money, Arthur pestered Evelyn to upgrade and repair her twin blades. They were damaged in the fight against the reptilian beast in Hollow Creek, and sustained more cracks in Blackcrest. It was high time they were either replaced or made better, and the best place for that was Smithy Town.

Soon, Evelyn woke up and robotically stood up, cleaning her new favorite black dress and stretching her limbs. As she didn’t see the parasite move, she thought he was asleep, but when she looked at him, she saw his intense stare and shit-eating grin.

“Good morning to you, my dear Evelyn.”

“...”

“I guess the ground wasn’t as comfortable as you claimed it to be.”

“I was sore due to not doing anything for almost a week, Master. The flat and dirty ground had nothing to do with it.”

She maintained a momentary silence before asking, “Have you still not thought about a destination? Not to sound demeaning but your indecisiveness is making me worried about our safety.”

“As I said, we’ll be taking a short rest at Smithy Town. After that, we’ll visit Warmcross as the two are very close to each other. Speaking of which, I thought you preferred peace rather than constantly fighting yet… your current attitude suggests otherwise.”

“I was merely being honest, Master. A maid shouldn’t shy away from correcting her Master if needs be. Admittedly, I may be too inexperienced in serving a parasite.”

Arthur got to his feet and chuckled as he took out food and water from his new magical bag, given by none other than the manager of Fleur Rouge.

“If you look at it from another side, you’re probably the only maid willing to serve a Parasite. Isn’t that an honor? A privilege of somesort.”

“That’s debatable, Master. Your recklessness and eccentricity border on the insanity. I sometimes find myself doubting your mental faculties.”

“Heh! You’ve grown bolder, I can tell you that.”

As the two seated themselves around the campfire, the zombie awoke and let out unpleasant groans.

It looked around then excitedly jumped behind Arthur, stretching its rotten hands toward the parasite.

“I know I know… you’re acting more like an animal than the little one.”

Arthur sighed and handed Mort one of the blackened Blood Crystals, which were, apparently, a source of empowerment and nourishment for both the undead and the rabbit. However, both of them could consume only once per three to four days, but, in return, their strength would increase progressively.

Mort was left to play with the wild beasts outside of Blackcrest. He had grown considerably stronger and his appearance was subjected to a subtle change. For instance, his skin turned light blue, his eyes were crimson red, and his nails were sharp and longer than average.

As for the rabbit, it grew a bit in size, though it spent most of the day sleeping in Evelyn’s arms.

Arthur had yet to do any meticulous experimenting with the Blood Crystals, but he learned that, after using his own blood to transform them, they could act as a catalyst for strengthening Mort and the familiar.

He felt disinclined to personally test them as the consequences could prove disastrous. Moreover, the normal Blood Crystals were said to be useless for Parasites and normal humans, so the best option was to try and modify them so they could act as energy storage or something akin to that.

Evelyn kept staring Mort munching on the crystals as it was a delicious snack.

“Hm? Do you want to try eating it too?”

“That sounds like a foolish idea, Master. I was thinking about this… thing.”

“Oh! You mean Mort? Isn’t he a good boy?”

“I wouldn’t phrase it like that, Master. I have seen my fair share of Undead but none were sentient or capable of speech.”

Arthur smiled and nodded once, agreeing with her. Mort was a unique case and, to this day, he didn’t know how Latif was able to create such an Undead.

“I’ve read about the Undead, specifically the Death Legion. Apparently, only the highest type of undead, like Bone Dragons and Lichs, are capable of speech.”

“...”

“Frankly, I found Mort through sheer luck. He’s obedient and helpful, so it's worth the risk of having him travel with us.”

“Yes! I’m helpful! Strong too!”

Mort burped then sat cross-legged on the ground, eyeing the dried meat the two were eating.

“I like Furball more.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur burst out in laughter. He looked at the snow-white plump rabbit nestling on Evelyn’s lap.

“You already gave it a name?”

As she caressed the soft fur, she snorted, “He has a name, so why shouldn’t Furball have one? It was only natural.”

“If you say so…”

“Do you not like the name, Master? I think Furball is cute and suitable.”

“I’m more surprised by your attraction to Furball. Then again, besides your obsession with cleaning, I know not about your other ‘preferences’.”

“Master… one doesn’t need ‘preferences’ to appreciate fluffy and docile animals like Furball.”

“Fluffy, you say? I’m starting to think you’re being possessed.”

Instead of responding, she lifted Furball and faced it in front of the parasite.

“Look at it, Master. Does it not make you want to cuddle it?”

Arthur felt shivers down his spines as he hastily stood up and looked away.

“I’m having goosebumps, let’s be on our way already.”

Seeing his negative reaction, Evelyn clicked her tongue in disapproval, “You shouldn’t be like this, Master. As your maid…”

“It’s true! That thing is ugly! I want to eat-” Interrupted Mort as he cackled manically and pointed at Furball.

Evelyn coldly glared at the zombie, causing him to back away and follow after the parasite.