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Sacrifice Mage: Chapter 73: Behind It All
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 14:33:12 +0000 UTCThe power of a Gold nearing Opal. I really needed to stop staring at such displays of strength. It wasn’t that I was just impressed. There was some of that, sure.
But what I really felt was eagerness to get to the same point.
“I understand,” I said. I did. Revayne was more or less telling me that while Ring Four might be my priority, it wasn’t hers. She had other things to take care of first. I didn’t want to feel miffed at that, though there was a small part of me that did. She had said this was Ring Three, not Ring Four. “Thanks for taking care of these assholes.”
“They’re not dead yet,” Revayne said, walking through the bloody pool of vampire legs dropping around her. “But you’ve done your part. I’ll make sure they don’t rise again. Fair fortune, Ross.”
“And to you, Revayne.”
She glanced briefly at the Thrall boy next to me. “He can go, but I’m holding your responsible for that one.”
Thrall boy stiffened.
I glanced at him too. His eyes were still sunken in shock—too much going on in too short a time—but I appreciated he was holding himself together for now. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Can you do me a favour once you’re done here?”
“What is it?” She had already started perforating the hearts of the Thralls, spikes of ink crucifying them where they had fallen. Her first targets were their throats, though. I didn’t blame her in the slightest. All that screaming and cursing was annoying.
“Can you send a message to Gutran’s smithy? There might be another cultist called Aurier there. I want him to know about what’s going on.”
“Alright. I’ll send one of my birds.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. See you and good luck.”
I had talked and wasted enough time at the Plant. Now that the little battle was over, the adrenaline-fuelled excitement was quickly being replaced by anxiety. The state of Ring Four was a complete mystery to me at that point in time, and I wanted to get there as fast as I could, especially after Revayne’s little messenger bird had arrived.
As we got going, the Weave decided to pop in with some rewards for my activities.
[ Rank Up!
Your Vitality and Agility Attributes have risen by one Rank.
Vitality: Silver II
Agility: Silver I ]
[ Augmentation Unlocked!
You have acquired a new Augmentation for your Vitality Attribute.
Augmentation: Mana Heal ]
Ah, so the new Augmentation had worked. In fact, now that I was moving, I didn’t feel the pain in my hip anymore. I read through the last screen. Mana Heal. Like always, there was no additional information from the Weave, leaving me in the dark to find out everything I could on my own.
I would need to find some time to test it properly. The threads of mana created by my Power Augmentation had disappeared. I suspected a part of them had been used up by new Vitality Augmentation to heal me up, which went in line with how I had seen Augmentations work so far—a weird passive ability that needed a condition to function.
But my concern was whether it had needed all the mana I had floating around me or just some of them. Because if it had been all, then it was a really expensive ability.
Also, would it only work with external mana that I wasn’t directly controlling or using? Could I move my own mana to any wounds and just hope the Vitality Augmentation would work and heal me up just like that?
I decided I would test it all later.
“What’s your name?” I asked Thrall boy as we hurried into the streets. I wanted to say they were dark, but they were always more or less dark, minus the few spots lit up by the streetlamps.
“I’m Tural,” he said.
“Alright, Tural. Tell me everything you know about what’s going on. And stick close.”
Tural swallowed. “I don’t know much, but…”
I listened intently as he talked. Tural really wasn’t aware of a whole lot. He had just been following along because everything was a confusing mess and following others was a lot easier when you were a traumatized wreck. I didn’t particularly blame him. He had ended up standing against it all when it mattered.
He did say that they were aware of the guards’ intention to attack that night, thanks to a secret Scarthrall mole in their ranks. This led to the guards’ attack in the dungeon only finding a modicum of resistance while the rest of their targets were elsewhere.
Namely, all throughout Zairgon. Ring Three was just the start. Ring Four would be the prime candidate for takeover and then they would come for the rest of the Rings.
Of course, that was all I really needed to know to make myself run even harder. A part of me was tempted to send him off running towards Gutran’s smithy too, because I wasn’t sure if or when Revayne was going to send a message there. She had her own priorities to tend to.
But I couldn’t send the Thrall boy—Tural—going off on how own. For one, with all the other Scarthralls out there, he might be mistaken for an enemy and then killed. For another, he probably had little idea where Gutran’s smithy even was.
I thought I heard the sounds of fighting and clashes somewhere off in the distance, but I didn’t dare pursue them. There was no time.
A lone guard was waiting at the gate to Ring Four. He didn’t look tense or alarmed. I supposed the sounds of battle weren’t evident here. We were spotted, but there was no time to accommodate his bullshit.
“Did any Scarthralls pass through yet?” I asked.
What a stupid question. Would the guard even be standing here like that if they had? Unless he was a Scarthrall too, which he wasn’t because I had been inspecting him for any signs the moment I had seen him.
“What are you talking about?” the Rakshasa asked. He scowled at us, replacing his tension with belligerence. “Of course not. And what are you two doing here at this time of—”
I tuned him out, glancing briefly at Tural. He had hesitated at approaching a guard, but the Rakshasa showed no signs of recognizing that I was in the company of a Scarthrall. And if that was the case, then all the other Thralls could have passed through with little to no trouble as well.
Which meant there was no more time to waste.
“Hey!” the Rakshasa called after me. “Where are you going?”
“Haven’t you seen what’s going on?” Tural asked as he quickly followed me. I hadn’t bothered answering.
“There are disturbances, sure.” The guard’s voice was fading. For all his posturing, he wasn’t following us. Dedicated to his post, was this guard. “But the others will take care of it.”
We went too far off too quickly for the guard and Tural to continue their shouted conversation.
My spine tingled as we moved. The dirty streets were dark and there weren’t many people out. But I did see a couple of men pushing along a cart, and arrowed straight to them, my mace tight in my grip.
“You two.” I came to a stop about six feet away, keeping both them and Tural in my line of sight. “What are you doing here?”
They turned towards me. I cursed the sunless state of the world. The paleness stood out, but it was always a little hard to tell if it was vampiric or just a natural result of the lack of tanning light.
There was no mistaking the fangs when they smiled, though.
“We’re out here strolling the streets that belong to us,” the nearest gangly man said. He licked his licks. Even his tongue looked sharp.
I made a split-second decision. If Tural was a threat, then Escinca, who was stronger than me despite his obvious age, should be able to take care of him easily.
“Tural,” I said, hefting my mace. “I want you to go to the Sun Cult temple. Find Escinca there and yell at him till he comes to the entrance. Tell him Ross sent you, but keep your distance and explain everything clearly.”
Tural was trembling again at the sight of the three vampires—a third was rising out of the cart from under the debris in it—but he nodded hastily and ran off.
The vampires laughed as Tural went off.
“Oh, this little cultist thinks he’s got what it takes to kill us all,” the gangly one said.
“Or maybe he thinks he’ll talk some sense into us or some other bullshit,” said another, portlier one.
I hefted my mace. Once again, I cursed the fact I didn’t have a Blessed knife or something along those lines. Sure, I could deal with these three since dealing with the six earlier hadn’t been difficult, but time was of the essence. I needed speed.
The shaggy-haired one emerged from the cart with long, loping feet. “One of them cultists, is it? We know what to do, boys, don’t we?”
I thought they were going to attack me, but then, they ran off. Quite literally. I could only stare as they shouted and hooted and dashed off, yelling insults at me to come after them. And I did, at first. My body moved instinctively on its own, determined to catch up to them and eliminate the threat they presented.
But I stopped quickly. This whole thing reeked of a trap, and I didn’t want to get embroiled in a mess. I had no reason to dance to their tune.
Most people would be safe. Barricaded in their homes, with the warning that they weren’t to invite anyone unknown within, they would at least be nominally alright. Which meant I didn’t need to dash off after the first sign of a threat driven by excessive worry.
So instead, I rerouted my run and headed for the temple.
I didn’t meet any other vampires on the way, which was worrying in its own right. The trio I had met earlier weren’t chasing after me either.
The feeling of foreboding got worse when I neared the temple. As always, it stood out over the rest of the neighbourhood. But unlike every other time I had seen it, this time, there were no lights welcoming me with warm radiance. There were no moving glows from the sprites shifting about within the temple.
My heart sank as I got closer. Something wasn’t right.
The entrance to the temple was dark. No Aurier, no sign of Sreketh or Santoire or Guille, definitely no Hamsik. My stupid mind summoned up the worst possibilities, but I pushed them aside and entered.
None of the vampires could have gotten in. They needed invitations. Which made me pause for a moment because did me sending Tural on an errand qualify as actually inviting him inside? My skin crawled because I still couldn’t see the guy, but worse than that, I couldn’t see anyone or anything. The temple was dark.
I was about to leave the main hall and head into the dark passageways, but then I spotted the lights coming through.
“Ross…”
Escinca staggered into the hall, surrounded by all the sprites I hadn’t seen from the outside. They made him glow almost ethereally, yet they couldn’t hide the extra-pale pallor of his skin, or the scarlet of his eyes, or—My breaths stuttered in my lungs.
Or the fangs in his mouth.
“Elder…” My whole body was rigid as iron. This couldn’t be happening. “How—” My voice failed me for a moment.
“Get away from here, Ross.” Escinca looked like he was dragging his steps with great effort, leaning against the wall and trying to haul himself forward. “Leave before…”
I did the opposite of leaving. My feet were already carrying me towards him. “It’s alright, we’ll figure this out. Just tell me what happened. Who—” My voice tightened. “Who did this?”
Escinca halted, now trying to backpedal. It made me stop too. “Please, Ross. Leave. Find the others and warn them… I barely managed to send them away.”
“Elder.” I swallowed, trying to tame the roil of emotions within me, trying to get a grip on the storm that was starting to rage. “Who did this?”
“Who, who, who,” came a mocking voice. A familiar voice. Glonek appeared from the same hallway, standing not far from the Elder.
“You.” My body shook. “You’re behind this! But how? You swore an Oath!”
He took his time answering, making me wait. “An Oath… to not harm you or yours.” He tutted and shook his head. “I’m not harming any of you. I’m elevating you. Mere humans such as yourselves can do nothing worthwhile in this world of ours. You need to become something more.”
My mind whirled. Was that all it took to break an Oath? Some sort of twisted belief in yourself? Maybe that was why Escinca hadn’t bothered with them…
He turned to the Elder with mild disappointment. “Ah, a shame. It would seem my Aspect of Ensorcellment isn’t strong enough to force a Gold-ranked to obey me. Even if he is an old geezer.”
“What?”
Glonek looked at me in a commiserating way. “He was supposed to attack you, you see. Not warn you. All I managed to do was get him to move here and that’s about it. A shame.” He paused, musing with a finger under his chin. “Though, part of the reason is likely because I wasn’t the one who turned him. What a bother.”
My head was spinning a little. Even as fury and horror welled up inside me like demons trying to claw away at my soul, the sinking realization of what had actually happened felt somehow worse.
It had to be the Scarseeker meeting. The Elder hadn’t been well since that day. My skin was trying to leap off my flesh as I tried to understand. Glonek had always been present, had always been close enough, so he couldn’t have been the one to have turned Elder Escinca. And now he had admitted as such.
Which meant the whole Scarseeker family might be involved.
But that couldn’t be right. An entire Great House conducting an operation this illegal? This brazenly against the law and order of Zairgon? And it wasn’t even against only the stupid, worthless humans of Ring Four. I had just learned about Thralls infiltrating into the city guards, potentially in other places on Ring Three if they were able to co-opt a whole Plant for themselves.
My fingers clenched into a fist. One thing—one bastard—at a time.
“The hate in your eyes,” Glonek murmured, crystalline red pupils boring into my own. “It’s almost delicious. Did you know that hate is the strongest flavour for blood—”
“Shut up.” I took a step towards him, gripping my mace so hard, I was sure I would leave finger-shaped grooves in the handle. “Monsters like you aren’t supposed to talk. So just shut up and die.”
I had been just about to attack, but Glonek held up a hand. “Uh, uh, uh.”
Escinca stiffened, suddenly frothing at the mouth. I shouted out, but I did stop. But Glonek cursed as Escinca seemed to physically wrench himself free from the vampire, staggering away until he fell. The Scarseeker’s finger was burning with golden fire, though it went out pretty quickly as blood covered it up.
“Well, the Oath is compelling, I suppose,” Glonek said. He smiled at me. “But it’s only stopping me temporarily.”
“And now I’m here to stop you for good,” I growled.
Glonek scoffed. “Truly? You, whose Paths aren’t even Silver yet? Winning against a near-Gold like me? A human winning against a Scarseeker?”
All I did was smile. “Near-Gold isn’t actually Gold, you toothy bitch.”
“Ross…” Elder Escinca was wheezing where he was on the ground. The sprites wavered around him, almost like they were protecting him. Even Enrico was there, shimmering and swimming in the air with the rest. “If you will stay, then…”
“I will stay, and I will stop him.”
“Then do so.” Escinca shuddered, but through the corner of my eye, I was sure I saw him take a deep breath. “And I will stop his plan… with a Ritual…”
My eyes bored into Glonek’s, hating his smile more and more with every passing moment. “His plan?”
“His plan to turn all of Ring Four into Scarthralls.”
“What?”
Glonek’s eyes glittered with malicious power. His glasses were gone. He had probably taken them off because of the impending violence. His aura was trying to affect me, though it was thankfully much weaker than Lady Kalnislaw’s.
I had turned towards him just in time, and my body stiffened as he swiped his arm. He was too far away though, way too far to reach me.
But he didn’t have to. Tural cannonballed into me instead.
