Reincarnated as a Princess's Pet: With Trash Stats, but SSS-Rank Skill-Chapter 71: A Blood Pact

The guest room door opened without warning.

William stepped in, carrying food for the group—but the moment he saw the scene in front of him, he froze.

Max stood beside the bed, untying the elf, who looked completely pale.

Everyone turned to look at William.

The butler frowned.

"...what’s going on here?"

His gaze shifted to Vimel.

"...and where did this guest come from?"

Dorian sighed.

"...it’s a long story, dear William..."

He crossed his arms.

"...but in short..."

He pointed at the elf.

"...this is the ’Dante’ we ran into in room nine hundred ninety-nine."

William raised an eyebrow.

Sophie stepped forward.

"...as you already know, we infiltrated his room."

Pause.

"...when we confronted him..."

She pointed at Max, who was still untying the elf’s hands.

"...he put him to sleep with a dream stone."

William glanced toward Max.

Sophie continued.

"...and then..."

She pointed at Vimel.

"...his body changed."

She shrugged.

"...and he ended up like this."

William observed him for a few seconds, curious, without saying a word.

Now free, Vimel adjusted himself on the bed and lowered his gaze.

"...I’m sorry... I don’t know how I ended up in this castle."

Max spoke.

"...apparently..."

He scratched the back of his neck.

"...Dante used some kind of magic to possess his dead body."

William let out a soft chuckle.

"...I’m not surprised."

He shrugged.

"...Dante is known for buying any rare magical item or grimoire he can find."

Pause.

"...he has more tricks than he lets on."

He looked at Vimel.

"...including the undead that pull his carriage."

Vimel lifted his gaze.

"...then I suppose... I can consider myself one of them."

Dorian said nothing.

William tilted his head.

"...you could say that. To be honest, your situation is quite interesting."

Max stepped forward, looking directly at the butler.

"...I’m going to need another favor."

William looked at him.

Max pointed at Vimel.

"...we need a bracelet. For him."

He smiled.

"...so he can look like a devil."

He crossed his arms.

"...that way he can move through the castle without problems—and help us."

William slipped a hand into his coat, rummaged for a moment, and pulled one out.

"...you’re in luck."

He held it out.

"...I happened to bring one with me."

Max took it.

"...thanks again."

He handed it to Vimel.

William sighed.

"...ah, one more thing, dear Max."

He looked at him intently.

"...Lucifero has been asking about you."

Pause.

"...he wants to know if you’ve made progress on the castle map."

Max scratched his head and smiled.

"...clearly not. And I won’t."

Sophie glanced at him from the side.

Max continued.

"...but I need to buy more time."

His expression hardened.

"...to save Abby."

Everyone looked at him.

"...and find Dante."

William nodded without hesitation.

"...leave it to me."

He smiled faintly.

"...I’ll keep lying for the cause."

Max returned the smile, then looked at the group. His eyes sharpened.

"...alright."

Pause.

"...time to move again."

Everyone nodded.

"...we’re going to sweep this castle."

He looked toward the door.

"...and find the real Dante."

***

The group left the guest room once more. The door closed behind them with a soft click. The hallway was silent—no one around.

"...alright..."

Max exhaled.

"...everyone, your roles."

He turned slightly.

"...Moonlight, Dorian, Varis."

The three looked at him.

"...head to the workers’ wing."

Pause.

"...ask around about the real Dante."

Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"...directly?"

Max shook his head.

"...no."

Pause.

"...carefully."

Moonlight smiled faintly.

"...got it, dad."

Varis nodded silently. Without another word, the three headed toward the workers’ wing.

Max shifted his gaze.

"...Neros, Sophie, Vimel."

The three stepped forward.

"...I want you to go to the knights’ wing."

Pause.

"...same objective: gather information on the real Dante."

Sophie crossed her arms.

"...let’s see what we can find."

Neros simply nodded.

Vimel hesitated for a second... but followed them.

The group dispersed.

Silence.

Max was left completely alone.

"...now that I’m finally alone..."

He looked up.

"...I need to go see Azael."

***

The corridors of the noble wing were different.

Wider. Quieter. More imposing.

Every step echoed.

Max moved carefully, checking each door. Searching.

"...where are you...?"

Then he heard voices nearby.

He stopped immediately, frowning.

They were coming from ahead.

He approached slowly. Carefully.

And then he saw him.

Azael stood with his back turned, facing a massive, dark door.

Lucifero’s room.

But he wasn’t alone.

A small devil stood in front of him, arguing.

"...I saw you, traitor."

The voice was sharp, slightly shaky.

"...I saw you steal from father."

Azael didn’t respond. He just looked at him with disdain.

The small devil clenched his fists.

"...you’re a damned traitor."

He struck Azael’s leg.

"...I’m going to tell father everything."

Max held his breath, trying not to be discovered.

Azael sighed.

"...you’ve always been annoying, little brother."

He snapped his fingers.

Two skeletons rose from the ground—like the ones he had summoned before.

They grabbed the small devil.

He struggled.

"...let me go!"

Azael slowly turned.

His gaze was cold.

"...don’t get in my way."

Pause.

"...you have no idea what I’m doing."

The small devil spat on the ground.

"...yes, I do."

He raised his head.

"...you’re just like them."

Silence.

Azael narrowed his eyes.

"...do you really think..."

He stepped closer.

"...that just because you’re the youngest..."

Pause.

"...and the most loyal..."

His voice dropped.

"...our father loves you?"

The small devil hesitated for a second.

Azael smiled—sadness in his eyes.

"...look at us."

He pointed at himself.

"...we’re all the same to him."

Pause.

"...tools."

The small devil glared at him—and spat in his face.

A chill ran down Max’s spine.

Azael didn’t even wipe it off. He snapped his fingers again.

The boy’s body dissolved into black mist—disappearing along with the skeletons.

Azael remained alone in front of the door.

Max covered his mouth, shaken. He stepped back and hid behind a nearby statue, breathing heavily.

"...shit..."

"...come out."

Azael’s voice was calm.

"...whoever you are."

Max froze. He swallowed, then stepped out slowly.

"...sorry..."

He avoided his gaze.

"...I shouldn’t have seen that."

Azael watched him for a few seconds. Then he smiled.

"...it’s fine."

He shrugged.

"...family arguments."

Pause.

"...don’t you have siblings?"

Max shook his head.

"...no."

He looked down.

"...I’m an only child."

Azael nodded.

"...then you wouldn’t understand."

He turned slightly.

"...it’s normal for siblings to fight."

He shrugged.

"...even to the death."

Max looked at him.

"...yeah..."

With a hint of irony:

"...sure."

Azael let out a laugh.

"...anyway."

He slipped a hand into his coat and pulled out a golden coin, engraved with red symbols. He held it between his fingers.

"...I suppose you’re here for this."

Max narrowed his eyes.

"...is that the key?"

Azael nodded.

"...it fits into the necklace."

Max extended his hand—

But Azael closed his fist.

"...not yet."

He crossed his arms.

"...first."

He looked at him directly.

"...Dante?"

Max sighed.

"...we found him."

Pause.

"...or something like that."

Azael raised an eyebrow.

Max continued.

"...he possessed the body of a dead elf."

He looked him in the eyes.

"...and he also took his wife."

Azael laughed.

"...haha..."

He shook his head.

"...that guy’s a bastard."

Pause.

"...so there are multiple fake Dantes in the castle."

He crossed his arms.

"...smart."

He smiled.

"...he came prepared... knowing I’d be here."

Max nodded.

"...my group is searching, but we’ll need your help."

Azael studied him, then pulled a whistle from his pocket and tossed it.

Max caught it.

"...when you blow it, only I’ll hear it—and it’ll show me your position."

He turned away.

"...I’ll be with you in less than ten minutes."

Max looked at him.

"...then I’ll use it when I find the real one."

Azael nodded.

"...make sure it’s the real one, or we lose the element of surprise."

Max tightened his grip on the whistle.

"...one more thing."

Azael glanced at him.

"...Abby."

Pause.

"...it would help if she were with us."

He clenched his teeth.

"...if you help now, I won’t break the deal."

He looked at him firmly.

"...I’ll help you with Dante."

Azael studied him for a few seconds.

"...you’re smart. But I don’t know if I can trust you."

Max didn’t hesitate.

"...let’s make a blood pact."

Azael blinked, surprised.

"...do you even know what that is?"

Max held his gaze.

’It’s a game mechanic... but if it fails... we die.’

"...yes."

Azael narrowed his eyes.

"...if you break the pact..."

He smiled.

"...you die."

Max nodded.

"...I know."

Pause.

"...but my team comes first."

"...fine."

Azael pulled out a black dagger and, without hesitation, cut his palm. He handed it over.

Max took it, inhaled deeply—and cut his own.

They clasped hands.

Their blood mixed.

Max spoke.

"...I promise to face Dante—and save your wife."

Azael responded.

"...and I promise to rescue Abigail."

The blood glowed.

Thin red threads wrapped around their hands, forming a seal. Marking their skin.

The pact was made.

Azael released his hand.

"...then..."

He pointed down the corridor.

"...let’s go free Abigail."

Max smiled. His eyes firm.

"...I’m ready."