CHAPTER 31: TWENTY YEARS GONE IN A SECOND

There it was: the vampire dungeon—looming, silent, waiting.

Allen, who had barely seen anything the first time Lilitu brought him here, now stood alone in front of it. He had walked silently, yet desperately, all the way from the Water Healing Clan’s territory, leaving not a single trace of his departure. Under the dim light of the moon, only the cold wind embraced each step he took. His mind resisted, but his heart... was desperate.

Allen’s thoughts flashed back to the ranking tiers his system had explained to him just a day ago. The memory sent a shiver through his spine. He had only just become a High Human, and yet here he was—standing before the den of a god, a being three ranks above him.

He knew how suicidal this was. But something—or maybe someone—kept pushing him forward.

He halted in front of the cave’s mouth, eyes scanning the darkness within. The desecrated stench that oozed out mixed with the sweltering heat—it all screamed run. But the mind, the mouth, the body... they all answered only to the heart. And deep in his heart, this wasn’t just curiosity. It was something darker.

Hadas hadn’t taken anything from him—not yet, at least—non that Allen knew of. But still, something dragged him forward. Something thicker than thought. The dark blood within him pulsed, fueled by Hadas’s will. It pushed him forward with unnatural hunger but beyond that a bond that hadn’t been broken pulled him even the more.

"Haaa..." Allen let out a deep breath, trying to steel his nerves. He needed confirmation. Had he successfully copied the god-tier ability? Because where he stood was the exact definition of a blade in his neck.

"Stats," he whispered.

---

[Stats]

— Name: Allen

— Race: High Human

— Physique: 1341

— Combat: 1250.5

— Mental: 1145.5

— Charm: 1361

— System Abilities: Lust Copy (SSS-Ranked), Black Tongue (SSS-Ranked)

— Gene Abilities: Blind Predator+ (SSS-Ranked), Lightning Bolt (SSS-Ranked), Cruel Immortality (God-Ranked)

— Sexual Encounters: 8

— Linked Partners: Natasha, Elara, Kia, Lilitu, Amaterasu

— System Status: Stable

---

"Alright," Allen whispered. "So there’s no chance of me dying."

He shook the nerves from his stance and stepped into the cave. Steady. Silent. Until he finally emerged in a chamber where patches of molten lava crusted into the ground, offering more heat than light.

"Goshhh..." Allen exhaled. A chilling cold ran down his spine.

The once regal vampire dungeon was now shattered. Blood beneath rock, rock beneath bone, and bone beneath dust.

"This was all Zarynth’s bloodlust," he muttered, realizing just how deep into hell he had stepped. He wasn’t just confronting a god—he was confronting a bloodline of demons.

The echo of his bare feet on scorched ground matched the dreaded pounding in his chest. He moved through the ruins, searching for the room Lilitu had once brought him to—the one with the chained door.

Everything around him was unrecognizable. Disoriented, he scanned each side, guessing his way forward. Landmarks were reduced to ash and ruin. But fate had its way.

Eventually, Allen found it. The isolated building. The shattered remains of the chained door. It was open now, the darkness within swirling in slow, unnatural circles. The disgraced walls around it lay like echoes of war—battered, beaten, and dead.

But what truly pulled his eyes was the towering black cathedral up ahead. Thicker than obsidian. Menacing. Immoveable.

"That must be his residence," Allen thought, heart pounding. ’He really is a patient god. With the power to conquer the whole planet, yet he resides in a building buried beneath it. That only means he seeks somthing worse than conquering’

Tension wrapped around him. The air felt heavier. He opened his mouth just to assist his nose breathe under the confiscated air.

"I can’t go in," he whispered.

His steps turned to tiptoes, as if afraid to wake something ancient.

"You’re here," came Hadas’s voice—not in Allen’s mind, but echoing from within the temple like divine chants. Three shadows strode out from the silver door.

Allen froze, breath caught in his throat. Instinct took over. He fell into a defensive stance, eyes locked on the emerging figures, ears tuned to every footstep.

And then, they emerged.

Three of them.

Hadas stood in the center, a crooked smile across his face. No longer pale and frail—his skin now bore a regal sheen. His posture had straightened, his aura had thickened. A visible mist of darkness extended ten meters around him, heating the air beyond what the lava already offered.

He had grown more powerful—fueled not by blood, but by fear.

And yet... he had no interest in killing. That was the most terrifying part. The more population that feared him, the more divine he became.

On his left stood Pyraegon. Rigid. Silent. Staring directly at Allen. The kind of stare that said: We meet again, scumbag. But his father hadn’t spoken yet, so he held his tongue.

On Hadas’s right stood Dolonides, smiling in that way only a madman could. His eyes burned into Allen. ’I can’t wait... I can’t wait... I can’t wait...’

There was a plan in his gaze. A plan Hadas had set in motion years ago. Abandoned only because one vital piece hadn’t arrived.

Now, that piece was standing right in front of them.

Allen should have collapsed under the weight of Hadas’s godly pressure—but no. What kept Pyraegon and Dolonides standing kept him upright too. A taste of divinity surged in his veins. Hadas’s blood flowed through them all.

Still, the fear was suffocating.

’So this is Hadas’, Allen thought, trembling. He wasn’t even sure why he had come. Was it curiosity? Or was it... something stronger?

What do you want? Allen wanted to scream.

But an even louder voice whispered inside him: Why did I really come here? Hadas didn’t force me... so why?

"I accept your apology for being late," Hadas purred, his hands clasped behind his back, smile widening.

"I never apologized," Allen snapped, trying to force authority into his voice—trying to push fear aside.

"Oh dear..." Hadas sighed. "You must be wondering why and how you got here."

’How does he know that?’ Allen thought, panic rising. ’Can he read my mind too?’

"What have you done, Hadas?"

"I did nothing," Hadas murmured, turning—not toward Allen, but toward the swirling portal-door. "Twenty years of love did."

Allen’s breath caught. Realization crashed into him like a tidal wave. Guilt tore through his chest.

Natasha.

"What did you do to Natasha?!" he roared, emotion bursting through every word. He took just one furious step forward.

"See what I hate?" Hadas smirked, his smile fading into a frown. "You humans do something, then blame it on the devil."

His voice roared like thunder, echoing through the dungeon.

"Weren’t you the one who left her without even looking back? You saw new asses and forgot the one who stayed by your side for twenty damn years!"

Allen’s heart shattered. Tears streamed down his face.

’The devil isn’t lying.

I didn’t even take a moment to look back.’

"But I never asked to be transmigrated!" Allen shouted, though the excuse felt hollow in his own throat. There was no defending his actions, even he knew that.

"And when you were," Hadas sneered, "did you even think about going back? No. Forward ever. Backward never... Allen."

"Enough!" Allen roared. The guilt was ripping through his soul. His hands trembled.

’I really threw away twenty years in one second.’

This wasn’t about the elven Natasha. This was about the human Natasha. His childhood love. His first.

But that was only the beginning.

Another blade of guilt pierced him.

He raised his head, lips trembling.

"Where... where’s my moth—"

’No.

I’m not worthy of saying her name.’

"Oh Allen," Hadas whispered mockingly. "Now you’re thinking about the woman who carried you for nine months?"

Allen bit his lip, blood trickling down.

"Don’t worry," Hadas murmured. "I have a gift for you. Something that cannot be replaced. But I’ll give it to you anyway."

Allen didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

But Hadas’s words replayed in his mind like a divine torment

’Something that cannot be replaced...’

Then the realization hit.

"Their souls... Did they die?!" he gasped, bolting upright, heart threatening to rupture his chest.

"Smart boy," Hadas said with a wicked grin. "The answers you seek lie in the Underworld. But it’s no place for the weak."

He stepped through the dark portal. A pulse of ancient energy spilled out—cold, wet, and timeless. The scent of burnt bones and broken time filled the air.

His voice echoed as he disappeared,

"Get past your making—Dolonides—and claim your answers."

But when dealing with devils, Allen was smart enough to know things are not always what they seemed but desperation had cloaked his being completely.

"Wait!" Allen shouted, launching forward. The molten ground cracked beneath him.

But Dolonides stepped in his path.

"You heard him, heartless," he purred, a wide grin splitting his face. "It’s either you go through me... or go back to caring less about the ones you claim to care about."

The tides had changed.

This wasn’t going to be a battle of strength or brute force.

This was going to be a clash of strategy, wit, and mind games.

The Clown versus Allen.