Chapter 175: Blood Promise

Words : 1602 Updated : Oct 4th, 2025

Chapter 175: Blood Promise Donovan didn’t just move—he lunged into action, his massive frame bending slightly as he all but shoved a jade vial into Lordi’s hands. The jade bottle was cool against his palm, but Donovan’s grip was warm, calloused fingers pressing with an urgency that bordered on desperation. "Dear Junior Brother," Donovan rumbled, his scarred face twisting into something painfully earnest. "Look, it’s all my fucking fault. I—shit, this idiot Senior Brother misjudged you. Got my head stuffed with rumors, let some slimy bastards paint you as some greedy, backstabbing snake who hurt my squad brother, Zach Wright." His voice cracked, rough with regret. "I acted like a hotheaded brute, charging in without thinking, and I hurt you. For that... fuck, I’m begging for your forgiveness." His throat worked, eyes glistening just a little too much under the dim dawn light. "Take this—demonic beast essence blood. Top-grade shit. A compensation token, yeah? To make up for the shock, the injury, the fucking disrespect." He exhaled sharply, shoulders slumping. "If you refuse... hell, Junior Brother, this old fool won’t be able to live with himself. Won’t eat, won’t sleep—gods, I’ll be a wreck. So please... take it. Let me make this right." Inside Donovan’s skull, the gears were turning at a breakneck pace. Find the bastard who fed him those lies. Pin the blame on some disposable prick. Make sure Lordi never doubts his sincerity again. But beneath the scheming, there was something else—a flicker of genuine awe. This young man... a fucking alchemist prodigy. And I almost ruined it. The thought made his gut churn. He wasn’t some ungrateful wretch who’d abandoned Zach’s death—no, he’d dug deep, checked the facts. And the truth? Lordi Payne was never the killer. Just unlucky enough to be tangled up with Garrick Blackthorn’s Thorn Squad. And now, with that Blackthorn missing—probably dead—this was a godsdamned opportunity. A chance to bind a genius to his side, not with threats, but with trust. No more mistakes. At the thought of securing Lordi’s goodwill, Donovan’s chest swelled with something fierce—a mix of relief, determination, and a strange, almost brotherhood protectiveness. This kid... he’s too damn valuable to lose. Seeing Lordi’s lips part—likely to downplay his worth again—Donovan barreled forward before the younger man could speak, his voice a gruff but warm avalanche of words. "Junior Brother Payne, look—no more fucking around. I’ve got everything lined up for you." He yanked a spatial pouch from his belt, thrusting it toward Lordi with the eagerness of a man handing over treasure. "Raw materials, alchemy ingredients—top-tier shit, all for the Foundation Establishment Pill. None of that half-assed scrap you’d get from the sect’s stingy grand market." His grin was sharp but sincere. Lordi accepted the vial—and the pouch—without hesitation, his fingers closing around them with the same effortless poise he might use to pluck a leaf from a branch. His smile was a quiet thing, modest but not meek. "Senior Brother Valdez, your generosity humbles me. Truly, there’s no need for such lavish reparations. Your actions earlier? Understandable, given the rumors. I took no lasting harm, and I hold no resentment." A slight dip of his head, respectful but not submissive. "How could I cling to grudges when you’ve shown such sincerity? It would be petty... and beneath us both." "Good!" Brilliant!" "Fucking perfect!" Donovan’s laughter boomed like a war drum, his hands clapping together with enough force to startle a nearby bird from its perch. "That’s what I fucking love to hear! Knew you were a man of honor the second I laid eyes on you, Payne. No bullshit, no games—just straight-up integrity." But then his grin faltered. A shadow flickered across his scarred face, and for the first time, his voice carried a note of uncharacteristic hesitation. "But... ah, hell. Junior Brother, there’s something else. And I don’t wanna piss on this good mood, but..." He exhaled, rough and heavy, like a man steeling himself for a fight. "Look, I’ll be blunt. Your squad’s in shambles. Garrick Blackthorn’s dead—rotting behind the Bead Curtain in the Ancestral Shrine. So... what’s your next move?" Lordi’s normally composed features fractured for a brief moment, his dark eyes widening in genuine alarm as Donovan’s words struck him like a physical blow. His fingers, which had been idly tracing the rim of the jade vial, stilled completely. "Captain Blackthorn is... dead?" The words left his lips with uncharacteristic hesitation, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of stunned disbelief. Beside him, Emma gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth. "Even Senior Brother Blackthorn is gone?" Her voice trembled slightly, the color draining from her face as the haunted estate’s shadows seemed to lengthen around them, the air growing heavier with each passing second. The losses were piling up too quickly, each death carving another wound in their already battered spirits. She unconsciously moved half a step closer to Donovan, seeking comfort in proximity as the full weight of their isolation settled upon them. Donovan nodded solemnly, his scarred face arranged into a perfect mask of grim sympathy. "His death was... gruesome." He paused meaningfully, letting the word hang in the air like a bad omen. "I confirmed his body myself." The lie came effortlessly, his voice dripping with fabricated sorrow even as his mind coldly assessed their reactions. Whether Garrick Blackthorn was actually dead mattered little to him—this fiction served his purposes perfectly, cutting Lordi’s ties to his former squad and leaving him vulnerable, adrift... and infinitely more pliable. The Mister First Dominator’s sharp eyes caught the subtle inflection in Emma’s voice, that telling "even" that hinted at deeper knowledge. His eyebrow arched in practiced curiosity. "What else do you know, Junior Sister?" he asked, his tone carefully balanced between concern and command. Emma hesitated, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her robes. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid the very woods might be listening. "At the Water Lily Lake’s central pavilion... we were attacked." A visible shudder ran through her slight frame as the memories surfaced. "The leader was Senior Brother Soren Langley—or rather, his corpse, animated by some... some unspeakable force." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth, the horror of that encounter still fresh in her mind. "What a fucking fortune!" Donovan exulted inwardly, his pulse quickening with excitement even as his face remained the picture of grave concern. The pieces were falling into place beautifully—this new information about animated corpses only strengthened his planned narrative. He schooled his features into an expression of urgent warning as he turned to Lordi. "You must be extremely cautious, Junior Brother Payne!" His voice took on an almost paternal tone of concern. "If Garrick Blackthorn’s corpse is also being controlled by this damned estate’s evil spirits..." He let the implication hang ominously in the air before continuing with dramatic emphasis, "You could be in grave danger!" Inside, Donovan’s mind was already racing ahead, crafting plans within plans. "Perfect! Absolutely fucking perfect!" he thought with savage glee. He would stick to Lordi like a shadow now. If by some miracle Garrick Blackthorn wasn’t actually dead and dared to show his face—alive or otherwise—Donovan would cut him down without hesitation, then blame it all on the malevolent spirits haunting this cursed place. The thought brought him immense satisfaction, his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smirk before he forced it back into a mask of warm sincerity. A carefully crafted expression of troubled contemplation settled across Lordi’s features as he processed Donovan’s words, his brow furrowing just enough to convey genuine concern without appearing weak. He could practically see the gears turning in Donovan’s mind—the transparent attempt to manipulate him through fear and false protection. "How predictable," he thought, even as he deliberately allowed his hands to tremble slightly, the perfect picture of a junior disciple out of his depth. "Oh shit. That’s... that’s really bad," Lordi murmured, his voice laced with just the right amount of nervous energy. He swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he ran a slightly unsteady hand through his hair. "I’m only at the seventh layer of Qi Refinement Stage, while Senior Brother Blackthorn was already at the ninth layer peak." He paused meaningfully, letting the weight of this disparity sink in. "Even if I were extremely cautious..." His voice dropped to a worried whisper, "I’d be hard-pressed to escape if we crossed paths." Donovan’s eyes lit up with barely concealed triumph, his scarred face breaking into a wide, reassuring grin. He clapped a massive hand on Lordi’s shoulder with just enough force to feel supportive rather than domineering. "Junior Brother, no fucking worries at all!" he boomed, his voice brimming with contagious confidence. "Look, between you and me, my Dominator Squad took some hits before we even set foot in this abyssforsaken mountain estate." His expression turned momentarily somber, a fleeting shadow crossing his features before brightening again with determined optimism. "If Junior Brother Payne doesn’t mind slumming it with us rough types," he continued, his tone shifting to something warmer, almost brotherly, "why don’t you join our squad? Now, I won’t bullshit you—I can’t promise we’ll all make it out of this shithole alive." He barked a short, self-deprecating laugh before his face grew serious again. "But I, Donovan Valdez, swear on my ancestors’ graves—I always treat my squad brothers with absolute respect." He thumped his chest with a meaty fist for emphasis. "As your squad leader, I’ll protect you like my own fucking kin. That’s a blood promise, Payne."

Chapter 175: Blood Promise

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