CHAPTER 175: SENIOR VAMPIRE FANGS!

The next day.

After completely repairing his core, Kael continued with his daily tasks as usual.

Since nothing significant had happened, he spent the rest of the day reading. The books were piled up in front of him. The rustling of the pages accompanied the slow passing of the hours. In that silence, only the sound of paper and the steady breathing of his concentration could be heard.

The sun went down without him noticing. Everything remained the same until night fell once again.

However, this time he would not remain locked away among his books.

Today, he would go to the city’s underworld. He hoped to find some clue, some slim chance of recovering his soul.

He wasn’t so hopeful about a full recovery; that would be too indulgent a dream even for him. What he was looking for was different: to repair enough, a vital fraction that would allow him to ascend to rank 6.

Before leaving, Kael changed his clothes. With calm movements, he put on a deep black priest’s robe. Then he donned a bamboo hat with a veil that completely covered his face, hiding any trace of his identity. Finally, he adjusted the coin mask, a device that distorted his voice.

With all his preparations complete, he left the two-story house. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and the night air immediately enveloped him. Before him stretched a wide white cobblestone street, shining brightly under the pale light of the street lamps.

In the distance, a gigantic cross stood like a silent monument, and the scattered lights of the houses twinkled like motionless stars in the darkness.

Kael stood still for a few seconds, calmly observing the scene. The city seemed asleep.

Without further ado, he began to move forward. His figure glided silently and steadily through the darkness toward one of the entrances to the underworld of the city of San Martín.

As he walked down the wide street, it became narrower and narrower, and the houses were much less well-maintained. In the streets, you can see thin people inhaling substances and looking hostile and malicious.

Of course, none of this affected Kael in the slightest. He remained oblivious, completely ignoring the stares fixed on him from every dark corner of the alley.

"Give me your blood!" one of the men suddenly shouted, his voice thick with anxiety and madness. His pupils were dilated, and his body trembled under the influence of the substances he had just inhaled.

Without warning, he lunged at Kael with a rusty knife, driven more by desperation than actual strength.

"Hmph," Kael snorted disdainfully.

Through the veil, his gaze turned cold. In the next instant, his arm moved slowly. The palm of his hand struck the knife with precision, deflecting it, and immediately his knee rose, crashing hard into the attacker’s nose.

A sharp crack filled the air.

"Shit!" the man shouted, staggering backward as he covered his bloodied face. His entire body trembled, unable to maintain his balance. Before he could react, the same knife he was wielding plunged into his chest.

Kael had barely turned his wrist.

The blade pierced his heart. Blood spurted from his mouth in a thick stream as he gasped in agony:

"Cough... cough... shit... I can’t die like this... I need to try that new blood drug..."

The body collapsed, hitting the floor with a thud.

Kael watched him expressionlessly, the knife still dripping. Then, with a quick, clean motion, he raised his arm.

Swoosh.

The knife descended in a straight line and embedded itself squarely in the drug addict’s head, piercing bone and flesh without resistance. The body shuddered once before lying still, eyes open, empty.

Kael continued on his way as if nothing had happened. The only thing that really caught his attention was that blood drug. It wasn’t the first time he had heard about it. It was similar to mummy powder, sought after by many. However, the blood drug was rarer, more unstable... and, for that very reason, more valuable.

In the pale moonlight, Kael’s figure faded into the shadows.

Shortly after, he reached a narrow, dark street. The houses on both sides were in ruins, covered in dust and moss. He stopped in front of a building with no door and, without hesitation, crossed the threshold. Inside, the air was heavy, laden with the smell of dampness.

Kael lifted some boards off the floor. Beneath them, a narrow staircase descended into the depths. He began to climb down. Each step made the wood creak.

At the end of the descent, he found himself in front of a thick iron door, blackened by time and soot. Without hesitation, he performed the exact sequence: three loud knocks, two soft knocks, one loud knock, and three quick soft knocks.

The metallic sound echoed. A few seconds passed before a heavy creak broke the silence. The door opened just a crack, revealing a single red eye that calmly observed him.

A neutral voice, without emotion or haste, filtered through the opening:

"Our Lord is..."

Kael did not hesitate. His tone was indifferent, but his answer was impeccable:

"The greatest and most merciful is the light and darkness that guide our hearts."

The door swung open completely, revealing more stairs. Kael walked past the gate, hearing it close behind him with a heavy thud.

He finished descending and found himself on a wide path lit by torches embedded in the rock. The air was heavy and smelled of incense mixed with dampness.

At first glance, it seemed as if I had entered an underground city.

On both sides of the road, stalls selling different materials and styles are lined up. Some were carved directly into the stone, others reinforced with blackened metal or bones. In front of them, merchants displayed their wares. Long blankets were spread out on the ground, and on them rested jars, gems, herbs, tusks, and objects of dubious origin.

All those present wore priestly robes, but their faces were covered by masks, bandages, or improvised hoods.

The bustle of the place filled Kael’s ears. He moved forward at a leisurely pace, his gaze sweeping over the stalls and carpets, examining each product. Around him, the vendors shouted their offers:

"Elf dust for sale! Made from the blood of a young elf. Pure and fresh!"

"Dead-eating flower! For only two mana stones!"

"Virgin fluids! Perfect for skin rejuvenation and accelerating mana essence recovery. Guaranteed!"

"Senior vampire fangs! One-time offer, five mana stones! I also have blood from beastmen and mutants, straight from the north!"

All kinds of product names reached Kael’s ears. Merchants shouted hoarsely, trying to attract the attention of passersby amid the hustle and bustle of the market. However, none of those names caught his attention. They were rare, even exotic items, but of no use to him at the moment.

His priority was different: to find a way to repair his soul. Everything else was secondary.

Kael stopped at a few stalls. He looked at the products, asked about prices, and materials. But after a brief exchange, he always came to the same conclusion: none of them was worth his time.

Without losing his rhythm, he continued exploring, walking among the crowd that moved like a disorderly river of voices, footsteps, and smells.

Then, amid the general murmur, a nearby conversation caught his attention.

"Did you hear they’re holding an auction tonight?" said a male voice, low but eager.

"What? I didn’t know anything about that! Where did you get that information?" replied another, surprised.

Kael’s expression didn’t change, but his steps faltered for a moment.

An auction... those kinds of events were never simple. They always hid something more than mere transactions: objects, information, or artifacts that could alter the balance between factions.

And perhaps, right there, he could find what he was looking for.

Kael approached the two men with the ease of someone who isn’t afraid of being noticed. His footsteps were silent, but his presence was enough to make the air between them tense.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, almost polite, but with a weight that brooked no evasion.

"Hey, do you guys know where that auction is being held?"

The men turned around somewhat uncertainly. One of them, the one who had mentioned the rumor, swallowed hard before answering.

"I-it’s being held at the ’Our Lord Is Always With Us’ auction house," he said, trying to sound natural but unable to hide the tremor in his voice. "It will be organized by a ’bishop’... one who arrived from a long journey."

Kael watched him silently for a few seconds. No further words were spoken. Just a slight nod of the head before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

In his mind, an idea formed clearly: that auction... was not just a simple event. Something about it deserved his attention.

After getting lost in the crowd for a few minutes, having asked for directions several times because the place was so big, he had to ask for directions.

Not long after, he arrived at his destination, which was a fairly large establishment, seemingly the size of an adventurer’s guild, with people constantly coming and going.

Kael, his face covered with a veil, entered with a small smile.