Chapter 117 – Humanless creatures

"Tell me, is this some kind of ridiculous joke I am supposed to laugh at?"

Anger of the Crimson Daggers spoke from his seat inside a realm built from swirling masses of blood-like energy, a crescent red moon hanging in the black sky above like the sly, curving eye of a trickster god.

He was tall. Even seated, he reached nine feet. His skin was green and covered in scales that shimmered like water. Two horns erupted from his skull, pointing menacingly at the sky.

He sat on a large crimson throne, bearing the mark of a snarling eastern dragon behind it alongside the inverted crimson moon. His slitted yellow eyes swept the scene before him.

His words were directed at the two other beings seated on equally ornate crimson thrones around the long table — a table made from the bones of something long dead yet never forgotten.

One of them bore the mark of a stitched, wide-smiling mouth on his throne. He was Smile of the Crimson Daggers: a short, bald man whose mouth was stitched shut by metallic threads in a way that made him look permanently, hideously pleased. He sat comfortably on a throne far too large for his body, yet it didn’t feel wrong.

His smiling lavender eyes were rotten with a cruelty that had no name, darting restlessly around the realm.

The other bore the mark of two empty eye sockets weeping crimson blood. On that throne sat a woman who appeared to be around thirty, with hollow sockets bleeding constantly. Her white hair was streaked with crimson. Her yellow skin was blindingly lustrous even in that dark realm.

She was Eyeless of the Crimson Daggers, looking at her two companions as if she could see them perfectly clearly despite her obvious state.

"What has happened, Anger, for you to call this meeting?" Smile inquired, his voice like that of a small child, which only deepened the eeriness of him.

"Which one of you allowed that idiotic operation to go forward?" Anger grated, his slitted eyes moving furiously between Smile and Eyeless. "You both knew. You both knew the terrorist attack on Vorn’s Capital was planned for three months from now. Three months!"

He slammed the table. The realm shook on all sides.

"So why did I just receive word that we somehow attacked the Royal Hood Family during the recent Event?! Why?!"

"Lower your voice, would you?" Eyeless said lazily, her voice so slow and drawling it was deeply unpleasant to listen to. "I have already lost my eyes. I would rather not lose my hearing as well."

"You will lose far more than your hearing if you do not answer my question, Eyeless."

Eyeless paused, then cocked her head to one side at an eerie angle. Beside her, Smile’s expression stretched even wider, and he began to cackle quietly, watching the exchange with nothing but scornful amusement.

"What exactly are you implying? Do you actually believe you can kill me, Anger?" Eyeless’s voice carried undisguised disdain. "Smile, why don’t you remind this ugly little green lizard that he sits here only because Hatred willed it?"

"You’ve already done so yourself, Eyeless! Hahahah! Already, I say! But truly, Anger, why such a fuss? We attacked sooner rather than later. And so what?"

"So what?" He echoed, shaking his head slowly. "You two are genuinely fools." He was almost speechless with it. "Can neither of you see this situation clearly?! There is a reason Hatred planned the attack for three months from now. Do you have any idea why?"

He didn’t wait for an answer, knowing he would risk breaking the table if either of them said something stupid.

"It’s because of the Academy Entrance!" Anger growled, stressing every word, eyes moving between them.

At that, both Smile and Eyeless went still, as if only now recalling something important.

"The selection." Eyeless said, blinking despite having no eyes to blink with. "The selection of Lord Samael."

"Ah, indeed." Smile added, stroking his chin. "Hatred wanted to identify a candidate from the Academy Entrance to take the spot of Lord Samael."

"And now everything is far more difficult." Anger exhaled furiously. "With this attack on the Hood, we will get no respite. Acting will be harder. And it will be even harder for Hatred to choose and integrate our next Lord while the Royal Family is on full alert. To add, the Hood knows of us. If they decide to move against us, we will not come out clean. Why do you think we spent so long preparing this operation?!"

He paused, sweeping his gaze across them, thick plumes of smoke drilling from his nostrils as he breathed.

"And do you know what would happens when our believers learn that the one they are dying for — the one they weep for — is already dead? Do you think they will still willingly throw away their lives?"

"Unlikely." Smile answered, giggling.

"That is exactly why we must find a successor as soon as possible!" Anger snarled. "But we cannot choose just anyone! We need someone capable of bearing the High Blessing and able to heal the Lord of the Red Moon. Meaning, someone capable of growing the faith!"

"A daunting task." Eyeless whispered, shaking her head slowly, the blood weeping from her sockets coming faster. "But there is hope. I have seen it... I have seen it, comrades."

"Seen what?" Anger asked, his voice dropping, listening carefully. Whenever Eyeless spoke like this, it typically meant something significant was coming.

"This is the generation." Eyeless replied, her voice falling to a whisper. "We have arrived at the height of the Age of Enlightenment. A new Age wants to be born. But as you both know..."

She looked at each of them with a strange smile.

"...before an Age ends, it produces one final —"

"—Golden Generation." Anger and Smile finished together.

Whatever passed for hearts inside them began to beat faster, excitement surging through both.

"Are you certain, Eyeless? Because this...this would be the same as the generation that produced the Old Conquerors at the end of the Age of the Third Revelation, thirty-three thousand years ago!" Anger continued, clenching his fists tightly, struggling to keep his excitement in check.

He had discovered enough {Legacies} from past Ages to understand how extraordinary those generations were. They always produced beings who altered the very fate and future of the world itself, reshaping it into something else entirely.

Something worse. Something better.

It hardly mattered. The change was always inevitable.

Those times were ones of struggle with wars and divine games that extended far beyond any mortal’s scope, unfolding on a scale capable of shattering weaker minds.

Grim times. Dangerous ones. Rich feasts for the crows.

But whoever managed to survive to the end...

"...the glory and power they received would be unlike anything else." Smile said, his stitches stretching into a deeper, nightmarish grin. "We could be the next Old Conquerors. However, all of that rests on the premise that this is actually true."

He turned his gaze to Eyeless, his eyes serious beneath the permanent amusement of his face.

"So tell me, how much certainty do your words carry?"

"You already know, Smile, that nothing in this world is certain. Nothing is set in stone. But we don’t need certainty to act. We only need to know that the possibility exists." She smiled. "That is all we need."

"In other words," Anger followed, "we must find the successor no matter what. Now more than ever. And if this generation is indeed that generation..." his smile turned cold "...then our successor must be among them. Perhaps that is even why Hatred is staying there, willingly accepting to remain held."

"Indeed." Smile nodded. "Though it seems those irritating Fangs managed to guess as much. I have heard they attempted to poison her."

He laughed mockingly. "In the end, Hatred fooled them completely, making them kill someone they were never supposed to. And they didn’t even manage the killing cleanly. Constantine had no choice but to step in and handle the fallout."

"And we will need to deal with that bastard eventually." Anger grated. "He meddles in our affairs far too often."

"Easier said than done." Eyeless rolled her eyeless sockets. The sight was deeply unpleasant. "Constantine’s Soulblade is an enormous nuisance. Even some gods cannot perceive him when he is inside its Manifestation. Not to mention he is a Master, which means he can use {Commands}."

"And the Mother of Assassins adores him." Smile added with a smile. "So Constantine is untouchable for now. Only Hatred could deal with him. But if we want to strike a blow against the Fangs, we could target their new recruit instead."

"Who?" Anger asked.

"Olympias." Smile’s grin widened. "A rather promising assassin by all accounts. But still new to the underworld. We can remove her before she becomes another Constantine."

"The question is how." Anger said.

"She is either a student or a teacher at the Academy." Eyeless said, tapping her nails against the table. "She was the one who failed the recent task. But given how limited her strength apparently is, she is unlikely to be a teacher."

"A student, then?" Smile murmured.

"Most likely." Eyeless nodded.

The three fell silent, each looking at the others, their minds already turning over paths forward.

After this event, they would need to stay far from the Royal Capital. They would also need to increase their efforts in finding the Successor. All of that while managing the inevitable retaliation from the Hood, angering them without a prepared counter had never been wise.

Anger exhaled and spoke again.

"Our next steps are as follows: we manage the Hood’s coming retaliation, those bastards are petty and they will not let this pass. We gather every piece of information available on the Heirs entering the Academy and send it to Hatred to make the selection easier. And we contact our agents within the Academy itself."

He smiled coldly.

"I want Olympias’s identity. And I want her liver on my plate for a feast."

"What about the terrorist attack?" Smile asked, frowning. "Who carried it out and why now?"

"Emily Stone." Anger said. "An agent chosen by Hatred. As for why she did something so catastrophically stupid...do you fucking think I would be sitting here if I knew?"

Smile laughed at the fury in Anger’s voice. Eyeless stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke.

"I have my own thoughts on the possible candidates for Lord Samael’s successor."

Both Anger and Smile snapped their heads toward her, watching with intent.

"Who?" Smile asked.

"Three candidates." Eyeless raised three fingers, grinning. "Each chosen for a different reason: bloodline, circumstances, or nature."

"Don’t make us wait, Eyeless."

"Patience. I am getting there." She said, then slowly, "The first is Jeanne Safara, chosen for her circumstances. With the right grooming, she would be fitting. She carries enough rage and anger already."

The two nodded.

Eyeless continued.

"The second is Jonathan of Grace." She chuckled. "His nature fits our own perfectly. With minimal preparation, he could make a strong Lord Samael."

She paused. Her empty sockets seemed to glow with a void-like light.

She took a slow breath, as if steadying her own excitement, then spoke in a controlled, deliberate voice.

"And the third. My personal favourite. And this one is chosen purely for his bloodline."

"You mean...?" Anger muttered, eyes widening.

There was only one bloodline that could make Eyeless shiver in excitement.

She grinned wide, blood pouring down faster.

"The Last Born of the Desdemona, of course."

—End of Chapter 117—