Crimson Overlord-Chapter 304: Hunger satiated

Despair clawed at Sebastian’s throat, acrid and suffocating. The dagger, once his trusted weapon, now lay discarded, a testament to his utter defeat. The shadows, his domain, had betrayed him, cowering before the impossible power wielded by Orpheus. This wasn’t just a loss; it was a shattering of his very foundation, a world where his skills, his experience, meant nothing.

But Sebastian, despite the icy grip of fear, wasn’t one to surrender easily. A flicker of defiance ignited in his emerald eyes. From an inner pocket, he produced a single, shimmering purple pill. Unlike the crude black concoction used by the assassins, this one pulsed with a refined, almost ethereal energy.

"A high-grade berserker pill," Orpheus murmured, a hint of curiosity flickering in his crimson gaze. "A desperate gamble, wouldn’t you say?"

Sebastian didn’t respond. He gritted his teeth and swallowed the pill in a single gulp. The effect was immediate. A jolt of raw power surged through his veins, his body screaming in protest. Muscles bulged beneath his suit, tearing at the fabric as his very form warped and twisted. His skin, once pale, took on a sickly gray hue, veins pulsing with an unnatural light beneath the surface. Horns, obsidian black and wickedly sharp, sprouted from his forehead.

He roared, a sound that shook the very foundation of the Blood Hall, a primal challenge laced with a desperate edge. No longer the calculating leader, Sebastian was now a grotesque parody of his former self, a creature fueled by a cocktail of rage and borrowed power.

Orpheus watched the transformation with impassive curiosity. This wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed such desperation, but the refined nature of the pill piqued his interest. Did it offer a different kind of power, something more controlled than the mindless rage of the assassins’ black pills?

"Interesting," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Sebastian charged, a monstrous blur of claws and fangs. The berserker transformation had indeed granted him raw strength, but it seemed to come at a cost. His movements, though powerful, lacked the finesse of his previous attack. He was a storm of brute force, predictable and ultimately...unrefined.

Orpheus, with a sigh that echoed in the vast hall, raised his hand. A crimson glow pulsed around him, and the air itself crackled with unseen energy. Then, with a flick of his wrist, a crimson barrier materialized before him, solid as obsidian yet shimmering with an inner light.

Sebastian slammed into the barrier with a thunderous crash. The force of the impact echoed through the Blood Hall, but the barrier held firm. Sebastian roared in frustration, clawing and biting at the crimson wall, his monstrous form shaking with a primal fury.

But it was a futile effort. The berserker transformation, while potent, was clearly not enough to overcome Orpheus’s power. Slowly, almost methodically, the crimson light around Orpheus intensified, and the barrier began to hum with an ominous energy.

Sebastian, sensing the imminent danger, stopped his mindless assault. He panted, his monstrous form heaving with exertion. A sliver of his former intelligence flickered in his emerald eyes, a flicker of dawning comprehension. This power, this entity before him, was far beyond anything he’d ever encountered.

The crimson light reached a crescendo, and then, with a deafening crack, the barrier exploded outwards. A wave of pure force, imbued with the essence of Orpheus’s power, slammed into Sebastian. The berserker screamed, a sound that curdled the blood, as his monstrous form was ripped apart.

The silence that followed was absolute. The dust settled, revealing a single, broken figure sprawled on the obsidian floor. Sebastian, the once-proud leader of the Blood Hall, lay still, his body reverting back to its normal form, the life extinguished from his emerald eyes.

Orpheus stood amidst the carnage, his crimson cloak billowing around him. The air hung heavy with the aftermath of violence, a stark contrast to the chilling calm that emanated from him. The Blood Hall, once a place of shadows and whispers, now echoed with the chilling silence of absolute dominance.

His crimson gaze swept over the room, taking in the devastation he wrought. The bodies of the assassins, the broken form of Sebastian, all testaments to his power. He had come seeking some fun time, but in the dance of violence, he had found something far more intriguing – a glimpse of true power, a power that hinted at a purpose far greater than the destruction of a single assassin guild.

Orpheus flicked his finger with a dismissive air. Sebastian’s blood, now a crimson mist hovering above his fallen form, coalesced at the gesture. It swirled and condensed, forming a small, pulsating orb that glinted with a sickly light. He didn’t reach for a chalice or stoop to any beastly display. Instead, a delicate, crystal glass materialized in his hand, as if conjured from thin air.

With a movement that bespoke practiced grace, Orpheus raised the glass to his nose. He inhaled deeply, his crimson eyes closed in what could be interpreted as either reverence or detached analysis. The scent, no doubt, held a power of its own – a potent cocktail of fear, desperation, and the faintest echo of Sebastian’s fading life force.

It was enough. A mere taster, a necessity for a being like him, the progenitor vampire. Unlike the ravenous feeding one might expect from such a creature, Orpheus savored the essence with an almost aristocratic air. Here, amidst the carnage and destruction he himself wrought, he sipped the blood as one might a fine vintage, the ruby liquid reflecting the crimson glow of the hall in his eyes.

The scene was a grotesque tableau, a testament to the raw power and unsettling refinement of Orpheus. The corpses, Sebastian’s broken form, the shattered remnants of the Blood Hall – all were mere backdrop to this strange act of sustenance, this macabre dance of death and elegance.

One could almost forget the devastation, the chilling display of dominance, if it weren’t for the lingering stench of blood and the unnatural silence that hung heavy in the air. Orpheus, however, seemed oblivious. He finished the blood in a single, languid swallow, the crystal glass dissolving into wisps of smoke as soon as it was empty.

The crimson light in the Blood Hall dimmed, leaving behind an unsettling twilight. Orpheus’s gaze, now devoid of its earlier curiosity, swept over the wreckage. His purpose here was served, perhaps even surpassed. He had not only obtained the information he sought, but also stumbled upon a power far greater than the Blood Hall itself. A glint of something akin to anticipation flickered in his eyes.

The dance was over, but the song was far from finished. With a final, lingering look at the scene of destruction, Orpheus seemingly faded into thin air, leaving behind only the chilling silence and the unanswered questions that echoed in the blood-soaked halls.ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com