Chương 46

Oliver attempted to scrounge up the used salt on the stone floor. However, most of the salt was mixed with ectoplasm so he only managed to refill his pouch to a handful. While there might be more that was recoverable and scattered on the ground, separate from the ghostly waste, Oliver lacked both a broom to gather it and the time necessary. He'd shot his blunderbuss several times throughout that exchange, which meant vampires would be descending on his location at any moment.

He quickly went over his new level up and threw two free points in Strength to bring it to the 50 threshold and one into Resilience to get it a bit higher. A ripple coursed through his body as he accepted the change. His muscles bulged slightly, as if flexing. A slight headache throbbed in the back of his head, but it was far from the splitting migraine caused by the level 40 upgrade back at the start of this mess.

"Level 60 is only three levels away," he muttered to himself. He didn't know whether to feel exhilarated by the thought of a new class, or worried for the pain the class would doubtlessly cause to his body. A week ago, three levels were the result of months of struggle, now they could fall on him in a single day. He reminded himself once again to be mindful of Ben's cautionary leveling advice. Too much, too soon, would cause far worse than a migraine.

In his five years surviving in the Nightmare Biome, Oliver had never imagined that rapid leveling would ever be something he feared or worried over. Since he wasn't planning to fight anymore today, hopefully he could stagnate at level 57 for a few days at least. Of course, to not fight anymore today meant he needed to find a way out of his current predicament. He scanned the room for a way out that didn't require him to pass back through the hallway.

With everyone on alert, Oliver doubted that he could just slip by unnoticed. He suspected the stone altar might have some secrets. There were grooves on it that dropped into thumb-sized holes at its base, indicating it was designed to drain blood after a sacrifice. Oliver swung his shovel at it and pressed his weight down, removing a slab of the stone. The results were impressive and a testament to his shovel's quality.

He could already feel the benefits of his extra Strength in use, but he had no time to marvel at himself. Crouched by the hole in the altar's base, Oliver's nose was assaulted by the rich tang of stale blood. Oliver hesitated. He could crawl down into the crevice. But to what end? There was no guarantee that there would be an exit. He could very well just be dumping himself in a storage vat of blood. Not exactly an ideal route out of his predicament. Another quick investigation of the chapel revealed a third exit.

The door that led to the hallway was a no. And the secret chamber under the altar held more risk than he cared to take on. But one of his earlier shots at the spirits had shattered one of the stained-glass panes. The image of the Vampire Lord's hip was marred by broken glass. An opening into the outdoors. Oliver abandoned the blood hole and turned his attention to the stained-glass window. He charged. With a single kick to the wall, he gained enough upward momentum to grasp the edge of the windowsill.

His Strength let him clear the ten foot vertical distance with ease and his Resilience let him ignore the shattered glass under his palms as he scrambled under the broken glass robe of the Vampire Lord. As he dropped from the ledge, he heard the chapel doors open. By the time his feet touched down on the grass, his enemy had entered his former battle's venue. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He landed in an interior castle courtyard, dark clouds overhead and scarlet vegetation all around him. He found a dark corner to hide in and activated Shadow Slink.

"Hyde! Lurk! Secrete! Where are you… ectoplasm! Something killed our pets!" a vampire shouted from back in the chapel.

"Find that filthy [Necromancer]! He offered us a defective product!"

"Silver," another hissed.

"Silver in this holy place. Sacrilege!"

"Death will not be enough for this intruder. Master will want to remove its bones and drink the marrow a thousand times before the escape of death."

"Where did the sneaky rat scurry off to? The stench of mortal blood is thick. It hovers like a perfume. Did it descend down? Fascinating." They must have discovered Oliver's shattered hole in the altar's base, because all he heard for over a minute was furious hissing. It sounded like they were not pleased by his desecration.

They then started debating amongst one another about whether or not to descend into the holy vault sanctum under the altar to pursue him, since that was the obvious location they expected him to flee to. Apparently, entering the blood sanctum meant risking the Vampire Lord annihilating every atom of their essence. They shouted into the hole, but never dared enter. In the end, the vampires decided to wait, assuming Oliver was trapped below with no other exit.

Their philosophy was sound, thinking that their immortal bodies would long outlast the physical needs of his mortal body. But they wrongly assumed Oliver chose to hide under the altar. Them camping out there meant his route back through the chapel was blocked. It was slightly inconvenient, not having the option to easily retrace his steps without first dispatching the loitering bloodsuckers, but Oliver knew it certainly could have been worse. For one thing, the blood from the vault masked his own wounds' scent.

Oliver closed his eyes and took a moment to simply exist. Alive and in one piece. Then his eyes snapped open and marched forward into the red foliage. He carefully managed every footfall so as to leave as little of a trace as possible. Figuring the best odds of an exit would be along the perimeter, Oliver walked with the stone castle wall to his left. Unlike the exterior courtyard, nothing here jumped out at him or tried to kill him as he walked.

The plants, while terrifying shades of red, were nothing more than vegetation. Also unlike that courtyard, Oliver unfortunately found no other windows or exits as he traced along the garden's outskirts. Only the one stained-glass arch that led into the chapel. Eventually, though, he found what he was looking for. As far as he could tell, it was the only doorway in the entire courtyard. From it, a dark stone path split through the garden and led to a black gazebo with a shaded moat.

It reminded him of a twisted version of a meditation sanctum. Oliver didn't even want to consider what someone who frequented this garden would be contemplating. Once again, he placed his ear to the door before opening it. He heard nothing. With no other clear option in front of himself, he grasped the heavy ringed doorhandle and yanked it back. It creaked open, the light of the courtyard spilling onto a red carpet spread in a path across a black marble floor.

Tightening his grip on his shovel, Oliver took a single step inside. The doors snapped closed as he passed the threshold. Blue torches burst to life, revealing the room in full. The red carpet led right up to the only furniture present. An elevated throne, carved of ebony wood and blood red stone. There, a single elegantly dressed figure sat, elbows resting to either side of the throne with long, pale fingers steepled in front of him. His eyes, full orbs of scarlet, glinted in the torchlight."

Welcome, intruder,"a voice boomed from within." Good for you to finally join us. I've waited many years to taste your blood."