I was getting closer to the new Sacrifice Affix I needed to successfully offer up Ritual rewards as tributes. The day after I greeted the Scarthralls, I found I could test out Ritual’s combination with Sacrifice while also dealing with my new neighbours.

The issue was that Scarthralls, unsurprisingly, needed blood.

That was one of the main ways Glonek had exercised control over the lot he converted, forcefully or otherwise. Ensorcellment was one way. The other was literally making them dependent on him for survival. After all, he was the only one who could provide a path for them to obtain blood that didn’t involve too much effort.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a Greater Brillwyrm or other dungeon monsters in my back pocket. Now I wondered if turning the former into a Scarthrall was Glonek’s way of accelerating his plan to take over Zairgon too.

Set up a dangerous frenzy for sustenance to keep the Scarthralls scarily motivated. I wouldn’t have put it past him.

That said, right now, we needed a solution to our lack of blood. Which was where Rituals came in.

“A Ritual of Purification?” one of the Scarthralls asked. “How can that help?”

We were in the middle of one of the abandoned sections of Ring Four, where the residences were still being prepared. All the Scarthralls who had arrived so far had now gathered together.

I let the Scarthrall who had told me about his new Path, named Vandre, explain. “It doesn’t just purify your body, it purifies your needs and wants and mind and all that.”

“Well, I don’t want to drink blood, but we need it to survive.”

“And that’s what’s key,” I said. “Not that you need it to survive, but rather, that you know it’s not a good thing. It’ll help a lot to stave off that need if you recognize that it’s something negative.”

Vandre nodded vigorously. “I actually tested it out and it does work. Haven’t had anything to drink since we got into the prison!”

Several Scarthralls gasped. All of them stared at Vandre in surprise. I didn’t know how strong their constitution was in general, but apparently, over two weeks was an unfathomably long time to go without drinking any blood.

The others had already had some to slake their desperate thirsts. We didn’t have a ton of blood to spare, but I did possess some from the Greater Brillwyrm. It had made me bless my little deal with the Guildmaster that got me a hefty chunk of the dead monster that wasn’t just edible flesh. We were getting a lot of the bones, organs, and blood as well.

There wasn’t a ton, of course. This hit especially hard because the guards keeping them imprisoned hadn’t given them much. Poor Scarthralls were starving and emaciated. I had seen that yesterday too.

But for now, it would suffice. Especially if the Ritual succeeded.

With Vandre’s help, I showed them all just what to do to complete the Ritual of Purification. After completing every step, I kept using Sacrifice, focusing on the efforts I made. I offered up my prayers, my ablutions, all of it. In the end, it didn’t feel like it had worked.

[ Ritual

You have performed 1 [Minor] Ritual of Purification on yourself. Windfall bonus activated.

Reward: All impurities, harmful pathogens, and negative buffs removed from self. ]

I frowned, which I had to hide soon after. The Ritual had worked for everyone. All the Scarthralls, cultist or otherwise, were happily reporting success, the Ritual of Purification having indeed reduced their clawing thirst for blood.

“Told you!” Vandre said. “I said it’d work, didn’t I?”

I sighed, then smiled genuinely. Even if Sacrifice hadn’t worked as I intended, I could be happy that I was helping—

[ Sacrifice

You have Sacrificed 1 [Minor]Ritual Reward. Windfall bonus activated.

Reward: Purification extended to [Minor] Purification Aura, which safeguards against [Minor] debuffs, afflictions, and non-mana diseases for 3 hours and 30 minutes. ]

[ Affix Unlocked!

You have acquired a new Affix for your Sacrifice Aspect.

Affix: Returned Offering ]

[ Rank Up!

Your Fervour has risen by one Rank.

Your Sacrifice Aspect has risen by one Rank.

Fervour: Silver IV

Sacrifice: Silver V ]

I blinked. Then my smile grew a good deal wider.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from NovelBin. Please report it.

The new Affix’s name was very odd. Returned Offering? That made me think I was being offered a tribute, which I then proceeded to send back. Kind of like my own Sacrifice.

Whatever the case, I was very happy indeed. Now, I was smiling with all the Scarthralls for real.

Of course, I couldn’t get drunk on success. My efforts here had worked. Both for Sacrifice and for reducing the Ring Four returnees’ dependence on blood. But I couldn’t delete that dependence, no more than I could take away my need for air…

Could I take away the need for breathing? I could apply the same line of thinking I had been using for food, right? The air I sucked in was indubitably mine, because once it was in my windpipe, I could do whatever I wanted with it. At least I thought I could. I’d have to test it out. Yet another thing to poke at.

For the time being, I spoke with both the others, seeing how well they were settling in and reassuring them that the issues they faced would be taken care of. Just as their issue with the blood had been.

It felt nice talking with them. Despite having been transformed into Scarthralls, and despite really wanting to re-integrate into their old lives, they were at least satisfied that they hadn’t been abandoned. I was there for them. I’d be there for them. Just as Elder Escinca had been there for me.

I thought I was leaving them pretty satisfied too. Or at least, I was leaving things settled for now.

But I had only left the Scarthralls and was about halfway back to the temple before Vandre, who had remained with his fellows, caught up with me in a hurry. His red eyes were sunken with worry.

“Cultist Ross!” he called out from behind. “Cultist, wait!”

I turned, heart starting to thud at the alarm in his voice. “Is something wrong?”

“There’s someone there.” He came to a halt a few steps away, barely reining in his rush before he collided with me. “A Scalekin trying to kidnap one of—one of us!”

“What?” That sounded so wild, I couldn’t start formulating why in the world something like that was even occurring. “Lead the way. Let’s go.”

“Where the Pits do you think you’re going?”

Vandre was right. A Scalekin was indeed trying to drag away a frightened man, one who was on the verge of retaliating but still too afraid to do so.

“Let—let go of me!” he cried out. “I don’t have anything...”

“You liar, you know you owe your boss at least two more weeks of work.”

“That’s enough!” I said as I arrived, hard eyes on the Scalekin. “Release him.”

The little struggle was surrounded by several other Scarthralls, all of whom looked torn between wanting to intervene and hesitating for some reason. I couldn’t recall seeing a scene like this ever before. Everyone on Ring Four was well aware of the abuses one could suffer here. But being physically hauled off by someone in broad daylight was a terrible new low.

I could not allow that to stand.

Not releasing his vicelike grip on the poor man, the Scalekin turned to me with a vicious scowl. I could only note the grey-green scales on his face. The rest of him was covered in a cloak that was strangely frayed at its ends. Almost like it was shredded on purpose. “What’s it to you, cultist? Get out of here before you regret it. I’ve got business with this pig.”

The man growled. All the other Scarthralls were growing so tense, they looked like they’d tear themselves in two.

“Whatever business you’ve got, I’m sure it can be conducted properly,” I said. “Not like animals. Let go, now.”

The Scalekin just hissed. He turned to his captor. “You hear that, scum? I don’t know what you did to deserve such luck, but you’ve got yourself a little protector.” He spat next to the man’s feet. “Tell this nosy bastard what you did. Tell him!”

“I did nothing!” the Scarthrall continued protesting. “I—it was just—”

The Scalekin did a falsetto of the man’s frightened stuttering. Then he spat again. “Lies! You took money from your work. Your boss is hurting ‘cause of you! You think just because you got turned into a bloodsucking maggot means you can skimp off work, huh?”

“I’m not skimping! I was imprisoned. And I didn’t take anything, I just got the money earlier because my ma was sick, and I’m going to finish the work—”

“Screw your lying heart to the Pits, you puss-breathing—”

It was my turn to grab the Scalekin’s arm. The context of the altercation was slowly trying to settle in my head, but right then, I didn’t care about it. All I wanted was to stop this bastard who thought he owned

the poor man.

“Let go.” I started squeezing harder, pulling on my Power. “Or I’ll make you let go.”

The Scalekin didn’t react to the increasing force at first. His eyes screwed in suspicion at me, and he actually did let go of the Scarthrall, who quickly drew away with a gasp of surprised relief. “I wasn’t told these Ring Four crooks would have any strength behind them, Scarthrall or otherwise. Looks like I was told wrong.”

“Who sent—”

He shook his scaly head, dark pupils turning to slits. “Just remember one thing, cultist. You’re the one who started using force on me.”

That sentence was probably meant to outrage me because I was too busy opening my mouth to tell him to fuck off with that bullshit to react to his attack. I still did, of course. I was stronger now, faster and more experienced too. Just as the Scalekin’s other arm jerked in like a striking viper, I let go of my grip and threw myself backwards.

But that little distraction of his was still enough to get me just enough. The thinnest of knives had appeared in his hand, flickering with a shining edge. It scored a groove across my upper chest.

A few things became clear instantly. This wasn’t just some guy sent to harass a poor Ring Four worker. The speed and strength, the use of enough Power to get through my Vitality and overcome my Agility—even if it was a bit distracted—proved that he was a formidable foe. At least on a physical level.

The other thing that became clear was that I had just been poisoned.

Hot pain wormed away from the slight chest wound. It wasn’t much worse than a graze, yet it had immediately started feeling like a stab straight to my heart. I felt like my ribcage was starting to crush my lungs.

The sudden violence had made all the Scarthralls nearby step back hastily in fright. Although, even in my pained state, I noted that they were still very torn. They wanted to help someone who had helped them, but were still hesitating, even more so now than before.

“That’s where you should stay,” the Scalekin said after I had stumbled, gasping in pain. “On your knees.”

I wanted to reply but only managed a cough as the poison started leaching into my lungs with an acidic burn.

“I know you cultists and your ilk.” The Scalekin was approaching languidly, his every word laced with as much venom as his knife. “A failing symptom of maggots reaching for the heavens only to get burned by the sun. That’s how you got into all this mess, didn’t you? All these weak, tortured Scarthralls. All the death and suffering.”

The Scarthralls growled and so did I.

He just hissed out a laugh. “You got your leader killed too, didn’t you?”

Alright, that was it.

[ Sacrifice

Your Sacrifice reward has cured one instance of [Minor] poisoning. ]

As soon as he was in position, I shot up. The Scalekin was quick. But I was faster and had the element of surprise in my hands. And I was channelling Gravity, Field Manipulation creating a weighted field around the Scalekin’s location.

The Scalekin had tried dodging backwards. I still got him good. His sudden heaviness had his feet dragging on the ground as he failed to use the right force to retreat. My fist powered forward with all the energy I could muster. I hit my opponent hard enough in his chest to send him staggering back for several feet, the Scalekin wheezing, coughing, and clutching his chest.

“What?” He quickly righted himself, able to move freely thanks to my punch taking him out of the field of artificial gravity. “The poison! How in the Pits—”

I was lunging at him again, even quicker now. Once more, his dodge failed. This time, it was because my last blow had pushed some mana threads into his cloak with Mana Injection, and as soon as our next altercation began, I used Infusion to turn his cloak as heavy as though it was made of chainmail instead of fibre.

My second hit, a slog straight to the face, was a lot more satisfying than the first. Especially because the other Scarthralls roared and cheered.

“Who are you?” I asked as the Scalekin tried to stand properly again while staunching the flow of blood from his split lips and broken teeth.

I wasn’t asking out of curiosity, nor even out of anger at his comments. At this point, it was downright alarming. He had already torn off his cloak to shed the added weight so he could move freely. This guy was a seasoned fighter, not just a random thug. He was too prepared, reacted too quickly. He knew too much.

The Scalekin’s eyes noted me with a lot more wariness than before. It wasn’t just me getting those looks. He was staring at the Scarthralls too, realizing that even if he got me somehow, he wouldn’t be able to contend with the follow-up.

“Curse your rotten, putrid, human hides,” he spat, and then dashed off.

My body instinctively started pursuing, though I stopped myself after just a few steps. That wasn’t the case for the Scarthralls. Several of them were yelling at the Scalekin to get back—and also yelling they weren’t just human anymore—while chasing after him with their fists waving furiously.

I just noted how fast he was. Even I wouldn’t have caught him so easily, Silver-ranked Agility or not. My mind roiled, replaying not the scene of our little altercation, but slightly older memories the Scalekin had uprooted. Things I didn’t like thinking about.

As the Scarthralls gathered around to congratulate me, all I could think was that this wasn’t the last I had seen of whoever that was. I really needed to talk with Khagnio.