Chapter 6: The Depths Below — Forbidden Bloodline

Bevis, who had spent years navigating the dark sewers, was acutely wary of the shadows. Zorn needed no reminder; he was well aware of the terrifying source of this darkness. This dreadful power, sealed deep within the abyss, if corrupted, could bring down even the world’s future ultimate villain. The wisest course was to flee this place as swiftly as possible.

As they sprinted, it felt as if a tidal wave surged behind them. Zorn glanced back, his scalp tingling with dread. Behind them, an enormous mass of gray rats clung together in a strange, indescribable way, merging into a colossal, furry, pulsating orb of flesh and blood. Sharp shrieks, roars, howls, and wails filled the air in a dense cacophony. The grotesque mass rolled rapidly along the path the two men had taken. If caught, they would surely become sacrifices of flesh, a feast for the rats.

One after the other, they ran desperately, lungs burning. Finally, they hoisted Isaac—one in front, one behind—and climbed out of the sewer.

“Quick, close it...” Zorn didn’t even need to finish. Gronk, the old butler guarding the sewer entrance, whose face had turned pale upon seeing the swarm of rats below, slammed down the manhole cover with a heavy clang.

“Hold it down!” Zorn gasped, issuing urgent orders.

Together, Gronk and the coachman Nero pressed firmly against the manhole cover. Suddenly, an overwhelming force surged upward.

“Bang... bang...” The sewer cover rattled violently, almost slipping from their grasp. The two men’s faces turned green with unease as they felt the indescribable, terrifying power beneath.

Zorn narrowed his eyes, calmly and cautiously surveying the scene, his hand already resting in his pocket. Inside was the "Sigil of the Evil Spirit," drawn in blood—a power he had prayed for from a secret entity just the day before. It was meant to withstand this mysterious force emanating from the depths of the sewer. Of course, it came at a cost, and Zorn preferred not to use it unless necessary. He had prepared well for this mission, confident he could escape, but uncertain at what price. Naturally, avoiding any price was best.

Deep underground lay the sealed terror known as the Overlord, the "Twin-Ringed Serpent," a being of immense and intangible will. Yet the dreadful force within the underground passage was not that of the Twin-Ringed Serpent, a being too grand to appear at this stage.

Several secret cults had their own schemes laid out in Oglan City, this roaring center of steam and industry. The grotesque mass of flesh, blood, hair, and bone fused into a terrifying orb was a hallmark of the cult’s forbidden blood source techniques. Zorn recognized it immediately—this was the work of the cult’s "Forbidden Bloodline."

They were establishing a base deep underground, constructing an altar and gathering sacrifices. The so-called "Rat King" was one of their dark creations, hoping to gain the favor of the Overlord, the Twin-Ringed Serpent.

This secret sect had long rejected humanity. They sought to harness the power of bloodlines, praying for the Overlord’s blessing, forging blood ties to transform themselves. When plagues and monstrous mutations struck, their methods might offer hope for a brief cure. But every brush with the unspeakable blood power dragged them deeper into corruption and madness—until they lost themselves entirely, succumbing to insanity.

Of course, as a future "Evil Spirit Sorcerer," it was hardly polite for Zorn to judge others. After all, he was no better—just a few steps behind in his own depravity. Compared to these cultists, he was even less humane. They at least gave people some hope, whereas he was pure terror incarnate—a walking harbinger of death.

As Gronk and Nero’s faces shifted from green to black under the strain of holding down the manhole, the solemn and majestic tolling of bells from the Holy Solar Church echoed from afar. The bells, symbols of sanctity, sun, and flame, cleansed every soul they touched. Silently, the raging, thrashing sewer cover stilled.

At four in the afternoon, the church’s bells quelled the turmoil in the darkness. Nero, the coachman, trembling and on the verge of tears, knelt by the manhole, hands clasped to his chest.

"Great Holy Solar, your most devoted servant thanks you for deliverance! Witness your majestic power at this hour..."

Nero, a faithful follower of the Holy Solar, praised the divine light earnestly.

Zorn exhaled deeply, steadying himself against the carriage. The gentle afternoon sunlight warmed his body, dispelling the chill from the sewers. Facing the light, he gazed upon Oglan City at four o’clock, the white marble church tower crowned with circling doves.

“Thank you, great Holy Solar!” he murmured a prayer of praise. At this moment, he too was a devout believer.

Inside the carriage, Bevis looked at the five one-gold-pound notes Zorn handed him but did not take them immediately. His hoarse voice broke the silence.

"I think I've taken enough."

"This is what you deserve," Zorn said firmly, pressing the notes into the rat catcher’s hand.

Bevis’s lips moved silently, then he spoke in a grave tone. "You are too generous. I will tell Isaac everything."

“If you ever need anything, come to 1456 Rook Long Street. If I or Isaac aren’t there, you can leave a message with the landlady. She is kind, responsible, and trustworthy."

"You know, rat catchers like us aren’t welcomed. Many despise the scent of the sewers on us. Sometimes... even passing by, we face scorn and insults."

His voice was tinged with bitterness and helplessness. Zorn felt a pang of sympathy. One of his goals in inviting Bevis to join this hunt and treasure quest was to forge a bond.

In truth, Bevis was an upright and kind gentleman. If he wished, he could use his extraordinary talents to make money easily, living comfortably. But he chose not to.

His simple sense of justice shone through him. This human light would guide the future "Legendary God Hunter" to ascend through sacrifice and legend.

“By the way!” Zorn suddenly remembered as they moved on.

“Every week, I need a batch of live gray rats, and I will pay well.”

Bevis waved his hand quickly. “No need for payment. Catching live rats is too easy for us rat catchers.”

“I’ll have Isaac deliver them weekly. If you have other requests, just let me know.”

Soon the carriage reached the corner of Rook Long Street. At that moment, Isaac awoke, confused.

After disembarking, Bevis doffed his hat respectfully. Though their acquaintance was brief, he remembered this young nobleman—likely the only one in Oglan City who had invited them into his carriage.

“Master, why was I unconscious? What happened?” Isaac asked, bewildered.

Watching the carriage fade away, Bevis withdrew his gaze.

“On the fifteenth, mid-month, the Spirit Witch said it was a special day.”

“Isaac, I think... you are ready now.”

At these words, Isaac’s heart trembled slightly. The gates to the extraordinary world were opening for him.