Crimson Overlord

Nightfall loomed beyond the window.

At the dining table, Amber finished the final morsel of her congee elegantly and gracefully. After cleaning the table, she brewed coffee and gave one to her master.

Orpheus nodded and drank his tea; he waited for Amber to talk as he could see that she wanted to say something.

”Master, thank you for your help; I now have an origin attribute.”

Orpheus waved at her to stop her.

”You don’t have to; I did that for my own schedule. I hope you will not disappoint me.”

There was no fluctuation in his eyes as he said those words, only emptiness that made one’s skin crawl.

Amber calmed down her heartbeat that was going crazy and replied.

”I promise I will not.”

Only a few words, but those words were more than enough to make Orpheus nod his head pleased with her answer; he even smiled, which shocked Amber as she didn’t expect him to smile, just as she was about to say something, Orpheus cut her off.

”Go back to sleep; we will leave tomorrow morning for Wratharis.”

Amber could only swallow her words and reluctantly leave, but there was a subtle smile on her lips, she thought.

‘Master, is not emotionless and cold as his face showed.’

As if he could read her thoughts, Orpheus massaged his temple and mumbled.

”How troublesome.”

He then closed his eyes, seemingly lost in thoughts.

•••••

Deep in the middle of the night, in a mansion located somewhere in the continent, a man dressed in all black was walking until he stopped.

He stood in front of a massive door whose surface bore the engraving of half the moon. And as he stepped past the threshold, his face became visible and was that of total creepiness, one that would make anyone’s skin crawl. From there, he crossed a sophisticated arch bridge, which cut across the entire expanse of the lake, and came to stand at the main building’s front entrance. His journey had been smooth without any obstacles whatsoever.

A woman of indecipherable age stood at the main building’s facade even before the man wearing the black robe arrived. She stood before the door, watching the slow and steady approach of the dark-robed figure. Her features held a genuine smile.

The woman’s appearance fell into the plain category, though there was a certain gentleness in her disposition. A gentle calmness, like water in a stilly lake, swaying and undulating languidly, which added an intoxicating quality to her appeal. There she stood in front of the entrance, elegantly, with a pale-white robe hugging her figure. There was a poshness in her poise, which gave her the likeness of a young maiden from a wealthy and eminent family.

The man in black robe stopped in front of the woman, “Thorn, is the Master in?” he asked in a deep voice.

”Master’s upstairs, reading,” the woman code-named Thorn answered. She had spoken in a laid-back manner, with a gentle and sophisticated lilt in her voice. Her entire comportment bespoke a woman of culture. Her appearance was by no means remarkable, though her white skin did possess an utmost silkiness. At first glance, she could easily come off as a woman in her twenties. And to say that she was in her thirties seemed somewhat plausible, too.

”I see; I better not make him wait for too long then.” The man in black mumbled with a serious face.

”You better; I don’t want to kill you, Skin!” Thorn said with a carefree smile, but Skin did not consider her words funny. His body grew slightly taut. He nodded and then walked through the entrance.

The internal furnishing of the residence was a sharp contrast to what one would find beyond its walls. It was old-fashioned and antiquated, yet not entirely so.

A bloodwood staircase stood in the main lobby. Silently, the man in black made his way up the staircase to the third floor. On the third floor, he stood stock-still before the door of a room.

A voice, deep and gentle, sounded from the inside.

“Oh? It’s Skin, Come in,” the voice said with piercing clarity despite the room’s heavy soundproofing. He knew who it was without looking, which showed that he possessed a terrific spirit perception; rumor has it that the master’s spirit perception could cover the whole mansion, making him able to see anything.

The man in black, whose codename was Skin, sighed and pushed against the door and stepped through.

The door opened, leading into a vast chamber with an area close to a hundred and twenty square meters. Stretches of dark red carpet paved the floor in all corners, whereas golden sketches papered the ceiling above, spreading out at will and in a way that bespoke impudence.

All four walls were made entirely of glass, though one of them was almost entirely obscured by the massive rosewood bookcase which was placed against it. The fragrance of rosewood oozed from the bookcase, which was packed with books and various antiques. On another side of the room, there was a window. And in front of the window, two genuine leather couches sat. A chessboard was set up at the room’s center.

The entire room was pitch-black like the void capable of swallowing anything.

The floor-to-ceiling windows typically provided ample lighting during the daytime, though at the moment, all of them were hidden behind neat, seamless curtains. The whole setup rendered the room’s visibility minimal.

Every time he came here, he had this same feeling, the feeling of standing in the stomach of a terrific beast. He really doesn’t like this room.

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