CHAPTER 60: THE DEVIL

’So she will be the one replacing Marin,’ Vlad thought, a bit surprised by her presence, ’Saves me the trouble.’

Christina had a unique utility-type trait called Ghoul’s Stomach, which allowed her to eat anything and gain some benefit from it, although the digestive process was one of pure agony.

In the future, she would become one of the most feared existences. In a world drowning in chaos, with every part of the world engulfed by war, she was a walking calamity, capable of acquiring new traits and replenishing her mana and stamina.

"I must admit that I am a bit of a fan of yours. First, you stopped the world event, then exposed the hidden boss in the field dungeon."

"Mysterious and impressive." She said, her hand cold and lifeless.

"Likewise, Lady Christina," Vlad replied, returning the smile. "I find your undead trait equally fascinating."

Christina froze mid-handshake, eyes wide. This was not right. Vlad should not know about her unique trait since barely anyone in her own guild knew about it, and she had taken measures, powerful ones, to keep it hidden from the world and all manner of prying eyes.

For Vlad to point it out so casually when the world believed it was of ice nature, like it was common knowledge, felt less like a compliment and more like a cold hand brushing against her spine.

It was almost a threat or more of a revelation that they were not in the same league.

"Mr. V," she said, her voice low and measured. "Lady Zane is expecting you."

Vlad let go of her hand and followed her lead. The hall stretched forward in a narrow corridor of silver and black, the floor lined with black velvet tiles, the ceiling lit by crystals that burned with a cool, silver light.

Every five meters, a statue stood guard, some of them men and women, and some of them beasts. All great warriors of the Colosseums.

The walk was short, twenty silent steps beneath the domed archway before the hall widened, revealing a dozen magic elevators lined up along the right wall, while the left side had entrances that led to the colosseum stands.

The duo entered the elevator and exited on the twelfth floor. After giving his guide a small smile, Vlad opened the door and stepped into the private chamber.

The chamber was spacious and silent, circular in layout, with a wide crimson sofa curving along its interior. The walls were pitch black, broken only by sweeping engravings of combat scenes carved in black stone.

But the true centerpiece was the glass wall, transparent and flawless, stretching nearly the entire width of the chamber.

Through it, the arena floor could be seen in full. The battleground below was wide and open, a basin carved from white stone and layered with pale sand, now covered in chunks of thick frost.

The wind carried the cold up into the viewing chamber, making the air feel sharp and dry. From this height, the cheers of the crowd seated in regular seats rang loud, and the view of everything was crystal clear.

Angela Zane sat on a large sofa near the glass, a cup of wine in her hand, crimson dress layered in dark fur around her shoulders.

"Mr. V, come take a seat, the battle has just begun," She said, her eyes staying fixed on the battle below.

As she said, the fight was just beginning. The creature moved like a flicker of light atop the white sand.

It was feline in form but massive, easily four meters tall at the shoulder, its body rippling with lean power. Fur white as frost coated its frame, edged with subtle lines of magic that let it shimmer and vanish against the pale ground.

Its eyes glowed bone white, and every step it took left a few feet of area frozen.

Its opponent was a gladiator, his skin bronze-dark, bare-chested, and enormous. A scarred spear rested against his golden shield, the spear’s tip pressed against the rim in a warrior’s pose.

His armor was minimal, nothing but a battle skirt of crimson leather, reinforced bracers, and a Spartan helm. The tall red plume of his helmet drifted gently in the cold air.

The warrior’s yellow eyes glowed faintly beneath the helm’s slits, emanating strength and bloodlust that were veiled beneath his focus.

Vlad walked forward, slow, deliberate, and took the seat at the far end of the sofa, leaving space between them. Angela didn’t look at him, nor did she offer a formal greeting.

Then she spoke directly.

"Mr. V," she said, voice calm but lacking warmth. "Why did Marin betray me?"

She didn’t look at him, her eyes remained on the duel unfolding below.

"It wasn’t for coin or status. He had both and more than most men could dream of. And he was loyal. Or... I thought he was."

Vlad glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Hair like woven starlight and crimson eyes cold as blood in the snow. Skin smooth, features calm, too calm for a woman who was addressing the betrayal of one of her closest.

"Marin didn’t betray you," Vlad said at last, voice steady. "Because he was never loyal to you in the first place."

"Marin was a sleeper agent," Vlad continued. "His loyalty lay with a powerful faction tied to the Starborn race." He deliberately withheld the name of Silent Accord, understanding that it could pose problems for both him and her.

Angela’s lips pressed into a line. She didn’t answer, but her silence and slight reaction told that she was aware of the truth, and Vlad’s words just confirmed it.

The sleeper agents were the perfect spies of old times, created using children who were indoctrinated from a very young age to be loyal to a group or person before having those memories hidden behind false memories before they were then freed to live their lives without any control.

It was a way to seed the future.

Planted agents into every crack and corner of society, with those souls having no clue of their own truth, just pure, efficient spies waiting to be awakened.

The method was not foolproof, and more often than not, it failed, as the indoctrination failed, and the person held little to no loyalty to their masters or was chained down by measures that prevented the agent from being of any use.

It was a very old method no longer used, as everyone in a position of power had either a mind chip in their brain, nanites running through their veins, or other means in place to ensure that betrayal was not even possible.

There were also easy means of finding if one was brainwashed in the past and easy methods to heal and free the subject.

But hardly anyone even knew of such methods in this age of technology, and using them would also bear no fruit, at least not in the real world.

However, with the descent of Ascension, those who had prepared were now harvesting the fruit of their labor, as the majority of the players were unaffiliated and primed to serve their intended purpose.

The Silent Accord of the Starborn race, who had planned this operation for who knew how many years, now had countless players ready to serve their shadowy master.

"You have my eternal gratitude for pulling me out of that treacherous bastard’s trap," Angela said at last, her crimson eyes steady on Vlad. "So if, in the future, you ever need the Crimson Angels to do something... all you have to do is ask."

"Now that this is over, let me ask you something," Angela said, her voice even. "Who do you work for? And why did you help us?"

In a world like theirs, nothing came without cost, especially not at her level of influence, so the force that stood behind this mysterious man hadn’t moved to help them avoid a disaster just out of kindness.

She also understood it wasn’t for wealth. Whoever held Marin’s leash would have paid dearly to keep their plans intact.

So whoever Vlad answered had willingly opposed a power with the resources to match any top-tier faction, if not one of the absolute strongest.

While they had helped her without asking for anything in return, Angela knew better than to take such aid for granted. That kind of help always carried weight, and whether they named it a price or not, the debt remained.

She was now indebted to a force unafraid of the consequences of picking a fight with a faction powerful enough to have plans of using her guild as a stepping stone.

She also clearly remembered V telling her how Marin and his group were going to leave and join the Sovereign Spear guild, and then start a war against her guild, which, according to him, they would win, an impossibility under normal circumstances.

Perhaps it was just a lie, but that no longer mattered now, because after removing Marin from the picture, Angela knew she had incurred the ire of a great power.

If they had previously planned to use her guild to rise in status simply because it was convenient for them, now they would wish to do it because of the trouble and loss she had caused them.

It seemed that the unknown power behind V had manipulated her into a war against a hidden, powerful faction, and the worst part was that, despite knowing the outcome, she had no other choice but to act as she did.

Angela looked at Vlad, his gray eyes cold and unreadable. To her, he seemed like a devil in human skin, siting there ready to give an offer no person could refuse.