Chương 49

Oliver, returned to his battered and broken body from before putting on the Face of Carter mask, heaved, his body spewing out black sludge from his lips. When his body had reformed from Carter's appearance into his own, it had healed his insides and shoved out the wooden stake he used to kill the Vampire Lord possessing him. Unfortunately, it hadn't removed what was in his stomach and esophagus. If anything, it had shoved more into that space that had seeped into other parts of his body.

Only two notifications kept Oliver from breaking down into despair as he puked out the oozing remains of the Vampire Lord's essence. A kill notification. And two level up notifications. Mentally, he placed his six free points. One point into Dexterity, to boost it to the 150 threshold. And the remaining five points into Resilience for a total of 73. A part of him was annoyed that he went through all of that, killed a level 90 monster, only for two levels.

But he had just leveled less than an hour earlier, so he might very well be on the precipice of another level. The splitting headache that accompanied his level ups also kept him from feeling too much regret about not hitting 60. Sure, the extra class and skills would absolutely be wonderful at the moment, but he worried that if he had hit that threshold, his brain might not handle the additional stress. At best, it might knock him unconscious. At worst… well, probably an agonizing death.

Though, he doubted much else could ever compete with the amount of pain he suffered in this recent brief battle. Nothing compared to the memory of his fight. His body shuddered in phantom pain and he still blinked his eyes rapidly, as if to prove to himself his eyeballs remained solid and attached.

"Ugh." Oliver rolled over to turn away from his black puke. He thought it was finally out of his system. A minute passed and he only hiccupped a few times. Good enough. His one good hand shook as it reached into his pack and brought out the single remaining healing potion. He almost cried in relief as he uncorked it with his teeth and drained the chunky liquid. His shattered arm reformed under the potion's power. The tiny shards of bone popped back into their natural positions along his arm and fused back together.

After experiencing so many bones breaking and mending over the last day, the sensation felt almost like a relaxing massage. With everything healed and his body no longer retching, Oliver took some time to simply stare up at the chandelier above him. It glittered as it slowly rotated. With his focus on the Vampire Lord, he hadn't even taken note of the glimmering light source overhead. It extended out in six arms, each holding a blue flame sized between a candle and a torch.

He wondered if he could have used that in the fight. Probably not. By the time it fell, Vladislaus would have stepped aside. Even as a distraction, he doubted it would have helped him much. Oliver groaned and sat up. He needed to get moving again. He was basically all out of resources now. No mask. No werewolf ring. No silver dust. No healing potions.

"At least the self-repairing enchantment is active on the shirt," he muttered to himself. He watched the holes in it stitch back together and the blood stains slowly faded out of the cloth. He reclaimed his shovel and blunderbuss, reloading the latter. Phantom pain still tingled across his body as he moved, but he did his best to ignore it. Passing that 70 Resilience threshold helped as well. The red carpet in front of the throne split into three paths, giving him a few options of where to go next.

One went back to the interior courtyard garden. Not somewhere he saw any reason to return to. The other two were mysteries to him, though he assumed the one directly in front of the throne led to a hallway or corridor. He decided to first check on the one across from the courtyard. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He peeked inside, hand tightly gripping his shovel and prepared to strike. The room's interior was extremely plain.

There was just a simple chest with an oval mirror over it. Stepping inside and recalling what Kiki had said about mimics, Oliver poked the chest with his shovel. It didn't react to the prodding. Next he tried the mirror.

"Stop that!" the mirror shouted. Oliver jumped backward, his shovel raised between them and ready to shatter the mirror's glass. The image of a man appeared. He wore a top hat and monocle. His gray hair was parted in the center and tied back in a ponytail.

"Who are you?" Oliver asked. His eyes flitted back to the throne room. Getting caught in an ambush here would be extremely bad news for him. This was a dead end and he wasn't certain yet if the man in the mirror was hostile.

"My name is Caspian Thorne." The man in the mirror straightened his jacket and stood up straighter.

"I'll have you know, I was once an extremely prominent member of the aristocracy. That was before my upstart nephew discovered vampirism and trapped me inside this mirror. I assume that your presence here must imply his demise? Good riddance. Vlad was always too arrogant. His death was long overdue."

"You were… Vladislaus Orlak Vyprianiv II's uncle?"

"I was indeed. And now I am trapped for eternity in this damnable looking glass."

"Do you want me to free you? Is this a quest?" Oliver doubted he could fulfill a quest at the moment, but thought it prudent to ask to get the subject out of the way.

"If you had approached me before my nephew's demise, I would have offered you something akin to a quest. Now though, the deed is done. All I can do is offer you the reward."

"Reward?" Oliver raised an eyebrow. He hadn't had an opportunity to loot the Vampire Lord's body, with it turning to goo inside his internal organs. He'd all but given up on finding any valuable loot in this scouting excursion. If he found something to replace the items he'd lost, it might lessen the mental trauma of the experience.

"Of course! Now vanquished, you have access to the greatest prizes of Vladislaus Orlak Vyprianiv II, Lord of the Night." The man in the mirror motioned down at the chest below him. Wary this might still be a trap, Oliver used Appraisal on the chest. It turned out to simply be an unlocked chest with a shattered enchantment. He assumed the enchantment broke at the end of the Vampire Lord's life. Next, he used the skill on the mirror.

It didn't give him information on Caspian, but the mirror itself was, in fact, a magical prison. That part of the aristocrat's claim checked out. The skill told him it was also in use and unable to be activated. That was great, it both confirmed Caspian's story and meant Oliver didn't need to worry about getting stuck in a mirror. Gingerly, he lifted the chest's lid. Then winced and covered his eyes with his free hand. The glow of the chest's contents blinded him. Something within radiated light.

Once his eyes adjusted, Oliver squinted down into the chest. A brilliant golden sword, bejeweled with diamonds, lay on plush velvet cushions. He used Appraisal on the weapon. Vanquisher of Shadowspawn. A blade forged from the heart of a holy being, who sacrificed body, mind, and soul willingly. This blade amplifies damage dealt to all vampires and their ilk. The conqueror of the land of nightmares, it is empowered by its greatest foes.

Only the most powerful evil can withstand its brilliance and the weak flee its aura. 100, 000 mel. Oliver's eye twitched. So, he was given the ultimate vampire slaying weapon immediately after killing the most powerful vampire. That… was frustratingly backwards. However, he kept his complaints to himself. This sword was the ticket to getting him out of this wretched place and, with that price tag, he'd be able to sell it and buy himself a castle of his own. Well, maybe not a castle.

But a big house, at the very least. His Strength allowed him to lift the blade with ease. He gave the air a few practice swipes. The action nearly tipped him over. Definitely not a shovel. He'd need to either secure a sword skill at level 60 or hand it over to Kiki. In the meantime though, he felt the 'weak flee its aura' part of the description might be enough to get him out of the biome alive.

"Anything else I should know before I leave?" Oliver asked the man trapped in the mirror. Caspian hummed and tapped a finger to his chin.

"Nothing comes to mind. One competent enough to slay my nephew needs little advising from the likes of one such as I. You must now go and let that blade taste vampiric filth once again. It has been far too long since it fulfilled its purpose." Oliver was about to leave, but the annoyingly bright light cast by the sword made him look back at the chest, wondering why a scabbard hadn't been included. Maybe he could cover it with the cloth inside?

He tugged at one of the pillows and was surprised to find that it ripped apart with ease. The feathers inside the pillows were hardly a surprise. But the sealed letter within made him pause. And the name scrawled on the front of the envelope in cursive made his newly acquired, extremely expensive sword clatter to the stone floor." Yinyan Zheng."