Marvel: Impregnation System-Chapter 175 - 168: A Castle’s Depths

SIGH

Her once regal form crumpled into an annoyed, tired sigh as Lilith pressed a finger to the bridge of her nose.

"Escort his cannon fodder to the servants' quarters." Lilith said dutifully, waving her hand.

In an instant, multiple low-ranking vampires dressed in maid and butler attire appeared, their eyes devoid of interest as they awaited orders.

"Who are you calling-" Eldric frowned, his expression twisting with indignation, but before he could finish, Ricky interrupted.

Snort

"She called you cannon fodder!" Ricky laughed right in Eldric's face, his amusement unrestrained and uncaring while only signaling him out.

Eldric's expression darkened, filled with immense discontent, only for Cedric to hold him back before he could lash out.

"Not you guys, you're all gonna fight with me. But Eldric right here? He's the only cannon fodder I brought with me." Ricky, noticing the questioning gazes from the coven, laughed, doubling down on the joke.

His carefree demeanor had an oddly comforting effect, easing their tension as if this wasn't a joke, then at least they weren't the ones being thrown to the wolves.

The vampires, the very ones dressed in servant attire, approached the coven members, who instinctively recoiled, if only slightly.

Ricky, unimpressed, shot them a deadpan stare, as if silently questioning their hesitation.

"Oh come on, they don't bite-"

"They do! They're literally vampires!" Dexter snapped, his earlier bravado crumbling into pure terror as he edged away.

The same man who had strutted with confidence mere moments ago now looked like he was about to bolt, eyeing the low-level vampires as if they were rabid dogs ready to pounce.

"Relax, it's not like witches and warlocks are some rare delicacy." Ricky chuckled, his amusement evident as he turned his gaze back to Lilith.

Lilith instinctively averted her eyes, refusing to meet his, her expression unreadable.

"Right?" Ricky pressed, his voice laced with mock innocence.

The undead servants remained eerily silent, the faint trickle of sweat on their otherwise lifeless forms betraying something unspoken.

The sight only served to unnerve the coven members further, their previous apprehension now twisting into full-fledged dread.

"Learn something new everyday I guess." Ricky muttered under his breath, rubbing his chin at this very fact.

Within Marvel, vampires rely on blood as their primary source of sustenance because their bodies cannot produce sufficient hemoglobin, resulting in a perpetual need to consume blood to sustain themselves and preserve their strength.

In essence, they suffer from a severe form of anemia, making blood consumption essential for their survival.

However, just like any living race, vampires also take pleasure in the taste of their food and have developed a refined palate for a wide variety of blood types.

While their primary need for blood stems from their biological deficiency, requiring it to sustain their strength and replenish their mana cores, they also indulge in the nuances of flavor, much like how humans savor fine wine or gourmet cuisine.

Among the most coveted blood types, that of warlocks and witches stands apart. Infused with magic, their blood carries a richness and potency unlike that of ordinary mortals.

The typically low muscle quantity in warlocks and witches enhances the richness of their blood, making it one of the most delectable blood types in the magical realm.

Its lack of excess muscle tissue results in a smoother, more refined texture, allowing the innate magical essence to concentrate without interference.

This magical saturation not only heightens its flavor but also provides an invigorating effect, making it highly sought after by vampires who crave both sustenance and power.

"You'll all be just fine, just don't think about it." Ricky said with a wide, toothy grin, giving them a thumbs-up.

The coven members exchanged wary glances, their unease only deepening at Ricky's carefree assurance as his grin was wide, confident, almost mocking in its cheerfulness.

"That doesn't sound reassuring at all." Dexter muttered under his breath, shrinking slightly as one of the vampire servants stepped closer, their crimson eyes gleaming with undisguised interest.

"Oh, come on," Ricky waved a hand dismissively, gesturing for them to relax.

"You're my army or whatever you call it, not livestock and besides." Ricky tilted his head, his grin widening as the servants slowly started escorting them out of the throne room.

"You're probably not their favorite flavor." Ricky purposely said, laughing as Dexter's head snapped back while being shuffled out with the rest of the herd.

"Probably?!" Dexter yelled, hyperventilating while being escorted out with the rest of the coven.

"Was it wise to tease them so?" Alexander asked curiously atop Bucephalus' head, aware that they would soon be thrown into the chaos of battle and unsure if it was appropriate to demoralize them.

"Eh." Ricky shrugged, shifting his gaze back to Lilith, who was already watching him.

"And here I thought they would never leave~" Ricky chuckled, strolling forward with a lazy confidence, arms outstretched in invitation.

"Spare me the heartfelt reunion, I only asked you here to-R-Ricky!?!" Lilith started coldly, waving him off, only for her body to be suddenly yanked forward into his embrace.

Her composure shattered in an instant, a deep blush blooming across her face as she stammered in protest.

"Mhmmmmmm~" Ricky hummed, savoring the moment as he held the voluptuous vampire temptress carrying his child. His grip tightened slightly, indulging in her cold yet intoxicating presence.

"You smell so f*cking good~" Ricky murmured against her neck, his voice laced with amusement and desire.

The scent of pomegranate filled his senses, rich and alluring while Lilith, who had initially struggled, gradually stilled, her resistance melting away as her arms hesitantly found their way around him.

Mumble

Lilith mumbled incoherently, her usual poised and cocky demeanor unraveling under the weight of Ricky's embrace.

The confidence she carried like an impenetrable shield wavered, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable.

Her fingers curled against his back, as if unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

Ricky smirked, feeling her body slowly give in, ensnared just as much by his touch as he was by hers.

"If you're going to whisper, you'll have to get a little closer," Ricky chuckled, cradling her cheek in his palm as he gently lifted her head.

But Lilith didn't meet his gaze right away. Instead, she turned slightly, her lips forming a small pout, eyes cast to the side.

Ricky's thumb traced slow, soothing circles against her cool, porcelain skin, his touch light yet possessive.

"Just tell me-"

"I thought you forgot about me," Lilith finally muttered, her crimson eyes locking onto Ricky's.

"Wha-" Ricky furrowed his brow only to break out into a sudden laugh, brushing off her words, but the look on her face made him pause.

Worried that Ricky had seemingly moved on, that he had found someone else, someone better.

The thought gnawed at her, coiling deep within the pit of her stomach like a festering wound.

Lilith had spent centuries perfecting the art of indifference, of feigning control, yet here she was, bare and vulnerable, clutching onto the fear that she had been nothing more than a fleeting indulgence to him.

Her crimson eyes shimmered with something unspoken, a rare fragility buried beneath her usual confidence.

For all her power, for all her arrogance, Lilith Drake was afraid of being forgotten.

"Why would you say that? I could never forget that sexy ass of yours," Ricky joked, expecting to lighten the mood.

But Lilith didn't laugh, she simply averted her gaze, her expression clouded.

"Because I'm an ungrateful b*tch who keeps leading you around and acting all pompous." Lilith muttered bitterly, despising her own actions.

Ricky only laughed harder, shaking his head before pressing his forehead against hers which soothed her.

"Lilith, if anyone's being an ungrateful b*tch, it's me. So relax, you're fine, you're hot, you're sexy-" Ricky started off trying to reassure her, but before he knew it, his words had spiraled into listing all the ways he found her sexy.

At first, it was heartfelt asLilith smiled, subtly touched by his words. But then Ricky really got into it, describing the sheer bliss of being inside her, and just like that, the tender moment twisted into one of sheer embarrassment.

"S-STOP!" Lilith shrieked, her face burning as she tried to smother Ricky's mouth with her hands, desperate to halt the flood of lecherous praise.

"And the way you coil around me-" Ricky continued undeterred, grinning against her palms.

Ahem

Just as the atmosphere teetered between lust and embarrassment, a familiar throat-clearing cut through the tension.

"Who's the boner killer-Veredelt?" Ricky sneered, ready to spit out an insult, only for his expression to shift the moment he spotted Veredelt standing off to the side.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Ricky." Veredelt nodded forward, choosing this moment to intervene as Ricky scratched his head.

"Yeah, you too, but why are you ruining the mood?" Ricky asked, both pleased to see him again and irritated that his hand, which had been firmly gripping Lilith's supple ass, was now empty.

"Because an agreement was made between Lilith and me regarding our alliance." Veredelt stepped forward, striding down the red carpeted path as Ricky scrunched his eyebrows.

"Wait, are you marrying this guy-"

"NO!" Lilith yelled, stopping Ricky from continuing as Veredelt merely chuckled at her blunt refusal.

"Ouch, my heart~" Veredelt laughed, showing he was capable of joking, which even made Ricky smirk a little as the vampire he knew had always been so uptight.

"Would you be so kind as to give us the throne room?" Veredelt suddenly turned his head, looking at the assembled group of Alexander, Bucephalus, and Asteiron, all spectating from the sidelines.

"Oh, don't mind us." Alexander, munching on a sunflower seed while perched on Bucephalus's nose, waved his paw dismissively as if giving them permission to continue.

"Wait, you guys didn't leave?" Ricky asked, looking at the three who he thought would drift off into the background but they all looked at each other.

"No." They all said in unison, while Bucephalus let out a huff, making his stance clear.

"Uh, alright." Ricky shrugged as he went along with it carelessly, trusting the two, minus the horse, with his secrets so far and seeing no reason they shouldn't stay.

"Very well, then let us move on." Veredelt nodded before turning to Ricky, gesturing with his elongated fingernails toward Lilith's belly.

"The nature of our alliance stems from the unborn twins residing in Miss Tepes' stomach," Veredelt continued, his words immediately making Ricky's eyebrows furrowed at first, wondering what his kids had to do with any of this, until the words finally registered as his expression shifted, brows shooting up.

"Twins?!" Ricky turned to Lilith, who simply smiled and lowered her gaze.

"Surprise~" Lilith awkwardly whispered, as if adding to the weight of the revelation as Ricky stood there for a moment, completely still.

Clap

Clap

"Congratulations!" Asterion cheered from the side, glancing around only to realize he was the only one clapping.

"Is this not cause for celebration?" he questioned himself, ears twitching in confusion.

"At this point, Ricky has fathered so many children that the novelty has worn off," Alexander said dryly, shrugging his furry shoulders.

The excitement of learning his disciple would have a child had dulled after the fifth time, then it grew quite old after the sixth one, and then the whole thing with the reunion tour really turned Alexander off to it.

"That's great, Lilith." Ricky laughed, genuinely excited as he yanked her back into a hug, thrilled at the thought of his family growing.

Then, his eyes suddenly shot open.

"Wait, why does your alliance involve my kids?" Ricky's voice dropped, turning dangerous as the smile remained on his face, but his eyes were cold since this was the one thing that always made him touchy.

"It is nothing nefarious, it's just that with our factions issues relate to her father-"

Veredelt was a sophisticated being, meticulous in his explanations, which was why he took the time to elaborate on how their two factions had collided in the first place.

It all stemmed from the lingering envy and jealousy he had harbored toward her father, resentments that, unknowingly, had carried over to Lilith once she ascended to Dracula's throne.

Veredelt was vampire enough to admit that he had deliberately fractured her faction out of spite.

However, it took time for him to realize that such division would only breed further internal conflict.

True strength lay in unity, and for their kind to thrive, they had to stand as one.

Though Veredelt was a firm believer in enriching vampires through knowledge, he also understood that the management of their race was a necessity.

The pursuit of knowledge could only flourish within the framework of natural order.

"It is why, over the past months, we have come to an understanding about our roles within the faction." Veredelt explained, his words highlighting how the negotiations weren't as cut and dry as he led them on to believe.

"Although I will relinquish the head position to Lilith, she has agreed to name me the godfather of your children, but there is one condition," Veredelt revealed, his words making Ricky raise an eyebrow at the statement.

"Your approval."

Simply put, Dracula's name and influence had done irreparable damage to the vampire race, but this time, it had worked in Lilith's favor.

As his daughter, her claim to the throne of Vampire Queen was ironically much stronger than that of the centuries-old Veredelt, merely because of perception.

Of course, Veredelt had the means to overturn this, but doing so would spark a civil war, disrupting his research.

Instead, he chose not to rule, so long as he could guide the future ruler of the vampire kingdom, the very foundation on which their race would thrive.

Hence, his request to be named the godfather of Ricky's unborn twins.

It was not just a symbolic gesture, but a calculated move, one that ensured his influence over the future of the vampire kingdom without directly seizing power.

"I understand full well how sensitive blood ties can be, and I would not proceed without your consent. That is why I am here now," Veredelt continued, fully aware that it would be unwise to go behind the back of the very man who had slain Dracula in the first place.

"Aye, I don't know what a godfather means to you, but for me, it means a whole lot." Ricky frowned, his gaze heavy as he studied Veredelt.

Within the Italian community, being a godfather wasn't just some honorary title, it was a responsibility, a lifelong commitment to guiding the child, protecting them, and standing in as a second father if need be.

It was for this very reason that Ricky had never named a godfather for any of his kids.

To do so meant placing faith in someone to stand beside him, to be there through thick and thin, not just in times of peace but in moments of crisis.

It wasn't enough to simply be strong or knowledgeable.

A godfather had to be someone who could uphold his family's values, someone who could be relied on to steer his children in the right direction if Ricky himself was ever gone.

The only ones he'd ever truly considered were Alexander and maybe Asterion, but they were already so deeply woven into his life, and by extension, his children's, that the role felt redundant.

They were family in every sense of the word, their presence constant.

Handing that role to someone else, especially a vampire with his own ambitions, was not a decision Ricky could take lightly.

"I understand-"

"But do you?" Ricky asked, frowning a little deeper as Veredelt raised an eyebrow as the glint of the nearby light caught on his bald head.

"I ain't gonna be around for them all the time and when I'm gone, you'll be in that role of a father." Ricky explained, letting go of Lilith and slowly descending the steps of the throne room.

"Being a godfather isn't just a title to me and my family, it's a privilege." Ricky said, making sure Veredelt understood that this wasn't some honorary label handed out to friends and relatives.

It was a responsibility, a lifelong commitment that carried real weight.

"We got history, sure, but not the kind forged in blood but through convenience." Ricky said, eventually standing in front of Veredelt who calmly returned his gaze.

"So, if I ask you right now if you'll look out for the best interests of my kid, what will you say?" Ricky asked, gesturing with his hands like a true Italian-American.

"I'd say I would be the master I always wished to be when Varnae was mine." Veredelt adjusted himself, his expression unreadable.

His words weren't just a response, they carried a weight that cut deep.

Varnae had treated Veredelt as nothing more than an assistant, an errand boy, a mere tool at his disposal.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

It was the root of Veredelt's long-standing bitterness toward Dracula.

Though some might see his request as a mere proxy for power, Veredelt knew better.

He would never subject anyone, least of all a child, to the pain of being invisible to the one whose acknowledgment they craved most.

"I would never allow anyone to endure the hollow pain I carry with me today, and I ask you to believe me." Veredelt placed a hand over his cold heart since for all that he was, he still felt.

Everyone, whether kind or wicked, bore scars that ran deep, wounds they would never wish upon another.

Some wounds healed over time, turning into distant aches that flared only when touched, while others festered, refusing to close, poisoning the soul with every passing moment.

Veredelt's wounds belonged to the latter.

They were the kind that never truly faded, carved into him not just by cruelty but by neglect, by the agony of being unseen.

It was not the lash of a whip or the sting of a blade that haunted him most, it was the absence of acknowledgment, the lingering shadow of never being enough for the master he once served.

Maybe that was why Veredelt was so obsessed with the pursuit of knowledge, because if he knew everything, if he mastered every secret, every forgotten truth, then finally, he would be seen as capable.

Not just by Varnae, not just by the ones who had dismissed him, but by himself.

"Alright." Ricky shrugged, taking a couple of steps back, his lie detection not even twitching at Veredelt's words.

"Like I said before, I give you the benefit of the doubt and my trust, until you break it." Ricky's voice was firm, but there was a weight behind his words.

Ricky didn't know a lot of things but knew that living in constant doubt, always expecting someone to stab him in the back, would wear a man down long before anyone else could.

"Before you return, I actually wanted to discuss another matter with you." Veredelt continued, his voice cutting through the moment just as Ricky was about to pull Lilith back into his arms.

"Raincheck-"

"It's about Merlyn."

Those words were enough to halt Ricky in his tracks, stopping him on all fronts and turning him back towards Veredelt.

"It's important."

If any lingering lightheartedness remained, it was snuffed out entirely by those words, leaving only whatever was to come.

"I would prefer our conversation to remain between us, ensuring that no valuable information slips into prying hands," Veredelt stated, his words deliberate but not unsettling.

"Lilith, would you give me a late-night tour of the castle? I would be eternally grateful," Asterion spoke up, seeing his cue to leave and completely unfazed by the distrust evident in Veredelt's gaze.

Lilith was about to refuse until she caught sight of Ricky's expression, void of warmth, completely serious when staring at Veredelt.

"Yes, this way." Lilith, though reluctant to leave, gestured to the side, leading the way as Asterion followed without hesitation.

"I know how close you are, but if this gerbil is really like Alexander the Great as you say-"

"Veredelt, the only person I trust more than Alexander is my pops. He's fine." Ricky cut him off, his gaze shifting to Veredelt before settling on Alexander, who simply crossed his paws.

"But the donkey is staying." Ricky scoffed, glaring at Bucephalus, who returned the glare with equal intensity.

The tension between them lingered for a moment until the beast caught sight of Alexander's serious expression.

Understanding that this was not the time for antics, Bucephalus huffed but remained still, reining in whatever defiant impulse had stirred within him.

"Very well, follow me."

Without a second word, Veredelt beckoned them to follow, leading them through the shadowed corridors of Dracula's castle.

The deeper they went, the more the walls seemed to close in, the weight of centuries pressing down on them.

He navigated through passages so ancient and obscured that even Lilith, who now ruled over this domain, had yet to discover them.

They descended into the depths of the castle, spiraling downward into the unseen heart of this monstrous feat of architecture.

Then, upon reaching a dimly lit room, Veredelt gestured with his open hand, the other still holding a lantern. He did not step inside, allowing Ricky to take the lead and without hesitation, Ricky entered, his sharp eyes scanning the space.

The room was simple, almost too simple for the grandeur of Dracula's castle.

A single wooden table sat at its center, flanked by two chairs.

No decorations adorned the walls, no remnants of past occupants lingered as it was a place designed for privacy.

"What's with all the secrecy, and why did we have to walk, like, twenty minutes to get here?" Ricky asked, striding toward the table before plopping down into one of the chairs. Alexander scurried onto the table beside him, his tiny paws tapping against the wood.

"And why did you emphasize my name as if I had some connection to Merlyn?" Alexander wondered, catching the subtle hint as Veredelt closed the door behind him and turned around.

"Because if you truly are Alexander the Great, as you claim, then you should already know who Merlyn is." Veredelt's words carried a deeper meaning, his gaze fixed on Alexander, whose brows furrowed in contemplation.

"What are these riddles you have untangled with your tongue, spit it out-"

"Although history and the world knows him now as Merlyn, before, he was known as Myraddin, disciple of Gaea."

Those words echoed from Veredelt's mouth, and the moment they did, Alexander's breath hitched.

So much so that the mighty Alexander the Great, one of history's greatest conquerors, a man who had once sought out new lands with relentless ambition, actually took a step back.

"Alexander?" Ricky asked, shocked to see such an expression, such a shift in demeanor, from the usually composed conqueror.

Ricky had never seen Alexander like this before as his chest rose and fell in rapid succession, each breath carrying the weight of something ancient, something buried.

This wasn't just shock, it was an old wound, one that had festered in the depths of his soul, untouched for centuries.

A trauma so deeply ingrained that even now, it gripped him with an iron hold.

But it wasn't from the name Myraddin, but Gaea.

"What the hell is happening? What are you doing?" Ricky snapped, yanking Veredelt's collar, convinced he was using some kind of magic on Alexander.

The reason was simple yet staggering since Ricky had never, not once, seen Alexander like this.

Not in the face of death, not when staring down the barrel of a gun, not even when the unknown loomed over them like a specter waiting to consume them whole.

Alexander had always been unwavering, larger than life, a force that pressed forward with absolute certainty.

But now?

Now, that same unshakable presence was trembling, his breath unsteady, his body recoiling as if some buried wound had been ripped open.

It wasn't fear of pain or death, Ricky knew Alexander didn't flinch at those things.

This was something else, this was vulnerability, raw and unabashed, a crack in the foundation of a legend.

And for the first time, Ricky saw him not as a conqueror, not as an immortal force of will, but as a man.

"I see," Veredelt murmured knowingly, his gaze shifting to the trembling gerbil as this was a part of Alexander's past that had remained hidden, until now.

"It seems I have stepped into territory not my own, let me rephrase-"

"No, what the f*ck did you say to make Alexander upset-"

"Ricky."

"Alexander, this guy-"

"Please, let him continue. Do not waste your worries on me." Alexander's voice, though steady, carried a weight Ricky had never heard before as it wasn't just insistence, it was a plea, a command wrapped in restraint.

With a slow breath, Ricky let go, his fingers slipping away from Veredelt's collar as he didn't say anything, just stepped back, watching.

"Just who the f*ck is this guy, Veredelt? Spill it." Ricky sighed, plopping back down onto the chair, his patience wearing thin.

Veredelt calmly adjusted his formal wear, smoothing out the fabric as if collecting his thoughts as his gaze flickered toward Alexander, then back to Ricky, as if weighing just how much to reveal.

"Merlyn is not merely the grand wizard known throughout history but the son of the fallen Elder God, Chthon," Veredelt revealed, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

"The f*ck kinda family tree is that?" Ricky's brows furrowed, scoffing only to suddenly realize something when he said fallen.

Alexander, however, remained silent. His breathing had steadied, but his body was still tense, his tiny paws clenched against the table's surface.

There was no refutation, no scoffing, just quiet, unsettling contemplation.

"Wait, what do you mean by 'fallen Elder God'?" Ricky suddenly realized something, his gaze snapping toward Veredelt.

Veredelt stared at him for a long moment before closing his eyes, as if choosing his next words carefully.

"Legends state-"

Veredelt Narration:

The corruption of the inevitable fall of Elder Gods stemmed from their prolonged existence and unchecked power.

Born from the Demiurge, they were meant to be forces of creation, but over time, many of them became consumed by their own hunger for dominance and power.

This descent into darkness led them to prey upon one another, their divine essence warping into monstrous, demonic forms.

Their battles raged across the primordial Earth, causing devastation on an unimaginable scale.

This period, known as the Great Cataclysm, was a time of chaos where the corrupted Elder Gods, now demons, engaged in an apocalyptic war that threatened to consume the very fabric of existence.

Their unchecked destruction disrupted the natural order, poisoning the land and sky with eldritch energies.

It was then that Demogorge, a cosmic entity of balance and retribution, rose to cleanse the world.

Acting as a divine executioner, Demogorge hunted the fallen gods, devouring them one by one, their screams echoing across creation.

While most were consumed by Demogorge's wrath, a few managed to escape.

Set and Chthon, the most cunning of the corrupted, fled into other dimensions, retreating into the shadows where they would bide their time and plot their return.

Labeled with the new titles of Nethergods, they seeped their essence into the void and its various wicked realms, becoming eldritch sovereigns of darkness and corruption.

Stripped of their dominion over Earth, they twisted the fabric of the planes they now inhabited, molding them into infernal kingdoms where their influence festered.

Gaea and Oshtur, the only Elder Gods who had resisted corruption, stood as guardians against their return, ensuring that the horrors of the past would never again threaten the world.

Or at least, that is what is told by the victors.

But history has a funny way of being skewed by those who control it, so it would be wise to take that foundation with a grain of salt.

The victors write the legends, and the truth is often buried beneath myth and manipulation.

Nonetheless, their feud had all but destroyed my homeland, leaving nothing but echoes of a once-thriving world.

The clash of the Elder Gods reshaped existence itself, tearing through the fabric of reality and ushering in an era of upheaval.

The very foundations of the earth were shattered, continents sundered, and the skies burned with divine wrath.

In its aftermath, many things were left rearranged, twisted by the chaos that followed as one of those lingering enigmas was the conundrum of Myraddin, the bastard son of Chthon.

Although he was conceived before Chthon's full descent into corruption, Myyrdrain's very essence bore the stain of his father's taint.

His existence teetered on the edge of something eldritch and something not but nonetheless, it couldn't be left unchecked.

Sensing the growing imbalance, Gaea intervened.

What exactly she did remains a mystery, but whatever her actions, they starved Myraddin of his inevitable transformation into a full-fledged eldritch being.

Instead of letting him spiral into the same abyss as his father, she took him in as her apprentice, binding his existence to something more stable, something that could be guided rather than left to fester in the dark.

Under Gaea's tutelage, Myraddin learned to wield his power with restraint, yet the echoes of his origins never fully faded.

However, something transpired between Myraddin and Gaea that led to an irreparable rift between them, an event shrouded in mystery but inextricably tied to the Greek Pantheon and, of course, a certain mortal.

"Eventually, he took on the name Merlyn and departed from his home to forge his own legend, or so the stories claim," Veredelt concluded, his gaze settling on Alexander, who had turned his eyes to the side in quiet contemplation.

"So, is Merlyn a f*cking god?" Ricky was the first to break the silence, glancing between the two as if wondering why he was the only one asking.

"From my knowledge, no. The only thing that remains of his godly heritage is his body. But if I had to compare, he is more akin to Asterion, who, coincidentally, also belongs to the Greek pantheon." Veredelt merely chuckled as his words bore down on the gerbil, who remained deathly silent.

"Great~" Ricky sighed heavily, leaning back in the old chair that creaked.

"It's why, although I know you'll be against it, I urge you not to partake in the scheme Merlyn has concocted," Veredelt said, his tone heavy with warning asRicky's gaze snapped to him, his brows scrunching in confusion.

"Why not-"

"Because, with the endless amount of studies and knowledge at his disposal, even I do not engage with that man," Veredelt said, though his words carried a tinge of something else, greed.

Ricky was about to say something but stopped, a slow smile creeping onto his face instead.

"You sly f*ck, you're baiting me." Ricky laughed, actually seeing through Veredelt's words the old vampire looked a bit surprised at this assumption.

"You totally want me to fight and beat the living sh*t outta Merlyn so you can get your hands on his knowledge and jack up the value of your hoards," Ricky accused, narrowing his eyes at Veredelt.

He had a sneaking suspicion the vampire was deliberately making Merlyn seem even more formidable just to increase the worth of his own treasures.

"Well, I wouldn't be against obtaining his knowledge, especially on, oh, I don't know, his Chimera studies?" Veredelt admitted with a sly smile, his fangs peeking through in a guilty yet unapologetic shrug.

"For all the convincing I get around this f*cking supernatural world, at least I know we can always make a deal," Ricky chuckled, eyeing Veredelt, who merely shrugged before finally taking a seat at the table, signaling the start of their negotiation.

"Well, my hoards are far beneath the quality of Merlyn's Chimeras, and while I take a more pragmatic approach in the development of beings, I wouldn't be against improving them." Veredelt admitted, leaning forward on the table with a gaze that told of countless centuries of deals.

"I'm willing to give you complete access to my hoards on the condition that the Chimera studies remain in my possession," Veredelt stated smoothly, conjuring a white bone flute that reeked of death in his hand that called on his hoards.

"Of course, I won't monopolize my findings, I'll share them with your Luciano family and Lilith." Veredelt extended his hand, his gaze unwavering as he watched Ricky narrow his eyes, sensing that this offer was almost too good to be true.

"And?"

"And I would like all of the leftover Chimera's not killed." Veredelt's words made Ricky's frown deepen as he really leaned back to think about it.

"Ah, f*ck~," Ricky groaned, suddenly remembering that the coven was literally here to kill the Chimeras and free their ancestors.

"I can't. The coven members have this whole spiritual thing about wiping out all the Chimeras," Ricky sighed, rubbing his temples before looking at Veredelt, who simply nodded, contemplating something.

"Then, as long as your involvement isn't detected, would it be fine if I take the leftover Chimeras?" Veredelt asked suddenly, watching the look in Ricky's eyes, the kind that said he really didn't give a damn about them at all.

"Listen, after it's all said and done, everyone's busy celebrating what would be our victory, and you just so happen to slip them away, I'll turn a blind eye." Ricky leaned onto the table, locking eyes with Veredelt, who held out his hand.

"But if you get caught, I'm throwing you under the bus," Ricky added, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he shook the old vampire's hand.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Soon afterward, the meeting and subsequent deal concluded with both of them getting what they wanted, but as Ricky stood up and turned to leave, something clicked in his mind.

A nagging thought, something he'd overlooked in the heat of the conversation, began to settle uneasily in his gut.

'Where's Alexander?'

Got it! Let me try again, keeping it simpler:

That thought gnawed at Ricky's mind as the gerbil disappeared without warning after that whole conversation, leaving him somewhat shaken.

He scanned the area, looking everywhere for him, making sure he was alright.

After a few minutes, he finally spotted him, standing by the edge of the high-rise, staring out over the view.

"Aye, Alexander, you okay, man?" Ricky asked, his footsteps crunching on the cold, wet grass as he approached. The gerbil seemed so lost in thought.

"I'm fine, Ricky. I simply wish to be left alone." Alexander replied, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse ahead, the night stretching endlessly before him as he overlooked the view from the cliff.

"Come on man, I saw how-"

"Please." Alexander closed his eyes, a genuine plea in his voice. Ricky opened his mouth to say something, but after a moment of hesitation, he simply nodded, turning and walking away, leaving the gerbil alone.

The quiet of the night pressed in around them, the wind rustling the grass, but in Alexander's mind, the silence was deafening.

As his eyes closed, all he could see were the faces of his victims, the ones he had ruthlessly conquered, their screams echoing like an unrelenting hum in his ears.

It was a form of tetanus, a constant pain in his psyche, yet something else lingered, something worse.

A haunting tune, a lullaby foreign yet familiar, crept into his thoughts.

It was not the sound of violence, nor the rush of power he had once craved, but something more insidious.

It made him feel a cold dread, a chill deeper than any of the lives he had taken.

The tune clawed at the edges of his mind, making him question whether he had ever truly escaped the horrors.

It was the haunting melody of his past.

Sigh

Ricky stood on his terrace, looking down at Alexander, who seemed to be lost in time, staring off into the night as though he could see something no one else could.

Ricky's mind churned with all the words he wanted to say, all the comfort he wanted to offer but he knew better than to push.

He remembered how it felt back then, how lost he had been, how broken, and how Alexander had never pressed him for details.

He had never asked about the sh*t Ricky carried the past that haunted him.

Instead, Alexander had always been there, offering his advice when needed, giving him a shoulder to lean on without a single question.

So Ricky stayed quiet, watching from above as he wasn't going to force Alexander to open up.

Not now, not when he wasn't ready, he had his own battles to face, and Ricky understood that.

He wasn't going to pry, he'd be patient, just like Alexander had been for him.

He'd wait, and when the time came, whether Alexander was ready to speak or had to face it alone, Ricky would be there.

Ricky finally understood that it wasn't about pushing someone to heal, it was about letting them do it on their own terms.

"Ricky~" Lilith's voice purred out behind him, signaling his head to snap back to the gorgeous woman standing at his doorway.

Her body was a masterpiece, the pale skin almost glowing against the black lingerie she wore, which clung to her curves and shimmered under the dim light.

The sheer cloth that draped across her body parted at her protruding stomach, accentuating her form in a way that was both seductive and graceful that highlighted that her body had been ever so slightly marked by him.

"Are you ready for your proper send off~" Lilith purred, attempting to sound as confident as her attire suggested, but the deep flush creeping up her neck betrayed her composure.

But it was that contrast between her words and her bashful expression made the moment all the more alluring.

"Oh, yeah~"