“To collect all things under heaven and store them away?” Mike repeated, intrigued.
The statement sounded odd at first, but upon reflection, it had a certain grandeur. He looked at Foreskin, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “So, besides conducting business, the Mystic Market also has its own warehouse?”
While transaction fees at the Mystic Market were practically nonexistent, there were still considerable profits from the auction house, information trading, and cross-species purchases.
Even the simplest business transaction yielded some profit. The Mystic Market’s income was staggering. It was this staggering income that supported Apollo’s grand ambition.
“So, you’re really just letting all those goods gather dust in a warehouse?” Mike asked.
“Of course not,” Foreskin corrected. “They’re hanging up, gathering dust.”
Mike was speechless. So, the Mystic Market literally collected one of everything? If it existed in the world, the Mystic Market had it. And if it *didn’t* exist, the Mystic Market still had it!
Wait… Did that mean there was a physical Mystic Market?!
Mike’s eyes lit up, fixated on Foreskin. “I have a friend who’d love to visit the Mystic Market!” If Foreskin was telling the truth, the Mystic Market housed one of every item in existence… That was insane!
Mike wanted one for himself! Unfortunately, he was only a *potential* Supreme Being, not a Supreme Being. Such feats were beyond him.
“Well… let’s discuss that later,” Foreskin said, deflecting Mike’s request.
Letting Thor into the Mystic Market? By the time he left, there’d be nothing left but the shelves.
No, knowing Thor, he’d probably take the shelves too…
“Look at you, being stingy!” Mike rolled his eyes, muttering a few complaints before parting ways with Foreskin. However, he’d filed the Mystic Market information away for future reference!
Back in his private space within the Forest of Truth, Mike’s sudden appearance startled Vladimir. Five seconds later, the bronze-green hat on Vladimir’s head began flashing wildly.
Vladimir sighed internally. After Thor’s pat, his hat had turned from gold to bronze, and his reflexes had dulled. He discreetly tucked the hat away, pretending nothing had happened.
Bilbo arrived, reporting on recent developments.
The private space was no longer a single-industry economy reliant on mining. The mines produced equipment and items, the blood clan provided ancient inscription formations, the werewolves offered phantom enchantments… Even the icy plains’ specialties had found a market through the Wolf’s Den.
Last time, Thor’s barbecue feast had been entirely sourced from the private space, costing him nothing. And surprisingly, several of their food items had become popular, turning into bestsellers at the Wolf’s Den. These were their *least* profitable products.
The dwarven artisans, already skilled craftsmen, now had access to top-tier materials and furnaces, doubling their productivity. Master Fool even offered occasional guidance, further enhancing their forging skills and output! The blood clan, with Dracula and Vladimir, had a vast array of formations… In short, the private space was thriving!
After Bilbo’s report, Vladimir approached shamelessly. “Master, Poseidon has been removed from the Temple of Truth!” he announced excitedly.
With Poseidon gone, wouldn’t that mean… Vladimir had a chance at becoming the Sea God?!
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Mike said, pouring cold water on his enthusiasm. “If the Sea God position was so desirable, why would Poseidon run?”
The Temple of Truth had many restrictions. Most importantly, the Supreme Demon God and the human Supreme Being blocked the path to the Heavenly Realm, turning the Temple into a prison.
However… supporting and nurturing a Quasi-God, or even a God, might be beneficial for Mike!
“Since you’re on the path to Sea God, you should know who your competitors are, right?” Mike asked.
“Poseidon’s daughter and another water elemental powerful being,” Vladimir replied quickly.
“If I have the chance, I’ll take care of them for you,” Mike offered, adding, “For a price, of course!”
“Of course! Of course!” Vladimir knew his limits. He could win in a one-on-one fight. His true strength was constantly underestimated. In a life-or-death situation, he had several hidden trump cards.
“However…” Mike changed the subject. “Reaching level 990 isn’t that simple, is it? You’d need to defeat the blood clan’s potential Supreme Being, right?”
That raised a question. Who *was* the blood clan’s potential Supreme Being? Mike looked at Vladimir, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. *Could it be this guy?*
“Master, the blood clan’s rules are different,” Vladimir explained, sensing Mike’s misunderstanding. “The Blood Ancestor must appoint the potential Supreme Being. Our previous Blood Ancestor appointed one before his attempt to reach level 1000, but that potential Supreme Being died before him…”
With the blood clan’s potential Supreme Being dead, the Blood Ancestor missing, and no new Blood Ancestor emerging, the blood clan currently had no potential Supreme Being.
“Oh? Is that so?” Mike asked skeptically. “Are you sure about this?”
Vladimir nodded vigorously. “Just ask Dracula!”
As if on cue, the proud vampire prince Dracula strolled by, overhearing their conversation. Having heard, he felt obligated to respond.
Back on the 34th floor, thanks to the prince blood essence Thor had given him, Dracula had recovered some of his strength. In a way, he was indebted to Thor. Answering a question wasn’t too much to ask.
Meeting Thor’s gaze, Dracula nodded firmly. “It’s true.”
Mike was even more puzzled. “How can you be so certain?”
The blood clan had experienced the River of Blood rampage and the Blood Ancestor’s disappearance, leaving the surviving powerful beings with fragmented memories. Why were Dracula and Vladimir so sure about the potential Supreme Being?
“The previous potential Supreme Being is definitely dead,” Dracula said, adding after a moment’s thought, “because I killed him.”
…
Mike’s gaze shifted between Vladimir and Dracula. Both blood clan powerful beings shared a distinct trait: a rebellious streak.
Despite their fierce rivalry over forbidden prince blood essence, these two old foxes could form an unbreakable alliance under certain circumstances. Their conflict stemmed from
differing ambitions.
Vladimir, devoid of any sense of blood clan honor, had brazenly betrayed the Blood Ancestor, embarking on a new path to become the Sea God.
Dracula, on the other hand, was fiercely loyal to the blood clan, willing to do anything for its
benefit.
For example, when the Blood Ancestor attempted to become a Supreme Being and the five races attacked, most powerful beings assumed Dracula wouldn’t intervene, allowing the Blood Ancestor to fall and claiming the title for himself.
They were wrong. Dracula fought his way through the enemy lines, single-handedly reaching the castle and holding off the five races. While he couldn’t change the outcome, he proved his unwavering loyalty to the blood clan.
That battle cost him dearly, stripping him of his forbidden prince status, destroying his physical body, and leaving him a mere soul inhabiting a descendant’s shell.
“Wait a minute…” Mike suddenly realized something. “You killed the blood clan’s potential Supreme Being during that final battle?”
“Yes,” Dracula nodded, nothing to hide. “He betrayed the Blood Ancestor, leaking crucial information about his breakthrough plan to the outside world, which led to the five races’
attack. He deserved to die.”
Mike paused, pondering. “Who told you this?” He was skeptical of some of Dracula’s claims.
“The Blood Ancestor.” Thanks to Thunderclap Fate, some of Dracula’s memories had returned, allowing him to recall the final battle.
According to Dracula, the story went like this: The Blood Ancestor planned a secret breakthrough. The potential Supreme Being betrayed him, leaking the plan, leading to the five races’ attack. Dracula attempted to defend the castle but failed, ultimately killing the traitorous potential Supreme Being while gravely wounded. The Blood Ancestor’s breakthrough failed, and the River of Blood went berserk.
After Dracula finished, Vladimir looked at Mike. “Master, he’s telling the truth.” The story
seemed plausible.
“Are you a pig?” Mike retorted. Instantly, a pig’s snout sprouted on Vladimir’s face.
He covered his nose with his cloak and stabbed himself, hoping to respawn and escape his current form. The word “pig” had a special meaning for vampires.
Dracula also looked at Thor, waiting for his response. He’d reviewed these recovered memories repeatedly, finding no inconsistencies.
“In this entire story, your Blood Ancestor is like a puppet, being played by everyone. Do you think that’s normal? Or do you think your Blood Ancestor is a pig?” Mike asked pointedly. He had a point! The last Blood Ancestor, even in ancient times, was a formidable figure. The blood clan’s rise to become one of the Nine Races was largely due to his efforts.
As the blood clan’s most promising candidate for Supreme Being, he possessed top-tier strength, intellect, and cunning. Why did he seem so passive in such a crucial event? Betrayed by his chosen successor, attacked by the five races, failing at the last step… The
whole thing reeked of conspiracy.
Mike beckoned. “Fool, come here.”
Master Fool scoffed but didn’t move, sending the Nature Elf Envoy instead.
“Tell me,” Mike asked, “back on the 30th floor, didn’t Wolf Alpha say Dracula was fully responsible for the Blood Ancestor’s failed breakthrough?”
Their conversation hadn’t escaped the Eye of Truth.
The Nature Elf Envoy readily confirmed it.
Dracula erupted in a torrent of curses. Was this fair? He’d given up the chance to become the
Blood Ancestor, risked his life to save him, and now he was being framed! This was
unacceptable!
“Calm down!” Mike retorted. “We haven’t uncovered the truth yet. What if your ‘help’ back
then actually made things worse?”
Dracula was speechless. In retrospect, the Blood Ancestor’s behavior had been highly questionable. Even the five races’ attack might have been orchestrated by him. Vladimir, seeing Dracula’s frustration, smiled smugly.
“Don’t you dare laugh!” Dracula snapped, glaring at Vladimir. “You’re the sly one! Where did
the Blood Ancestor’s blood essence come from? When did you attack him? Did you even have
the strength or the guts?”
Dracula’s words left Vladimir speechless. He’d claimed memory loss to Mike, but Mike hadn’t believed a word of it.
“I’m going out to slash a Supreme Demon God’s minion,” Mike announced, glaring at the two
vampires. “You two better get your stories straight. I expect a reasonable explanation when I get back.”
With a flash of lightning, Mike vanished, deliberately leaving Dracula behind.
After Thor’s departure, the expressions on Dracula and Vladimir’s faces vanished, replaced by identical masks of cold arrogance. They exchanged a glance, snorted, and looked away. Vladimir produced a bottle of red wine, pouring two glasses. Dracula accepted a glass, and
they stepped onto the balcony of Mistveil Castle, overlooking the private space.
Vladimir took a sip of wine. “Master is getting impatient.” Thor’s unusual interest in the blood clan’s past was a sign.
Dracula nodded. “That idiot Poseidon told him about the Tower of Truth’s origins.”
“It’s inevitable. He would have found out eventually,” Vladimir agreed.
After a moment of silence, Dracula spoke again. “The Blood Ancestor… might still be alive.”
Vladimir wasn’t surprised. “I know.”
“The previous potential Supreme Being was strange. He begged me to kill him,” Dracula
revealed.
“Oh,” Vladimir replied simply.
After a moment’s thought, Dracula added, “Following Thor is the only way to find the Blood
Ancestor, and the reason I stayed.”
“Just as I suspected,” Vladimir said, draining his glass and sighing.
Dracula glanced at him, asking provocatively, “Aren’t you afraid your master will find out
about this conversation?”
“Nope,” Vladimir said confidently. “There are surveillance cameras here. I recorded
everything!”