Chapter 254: Chapter Two Hundred Fifty-One: Acanis and Debt
After receiving some answers from Sia, Jima gave her a “witch’s potion” that could bestow various abilities upon her. At the same time, she comforted Sia, suggesting that she should make more money and meet more men, as she might find true love.
Even Jima herself did not realize that she was being overly concerned about Sia’s single status.
After providing comfort, Jima received a large amount of gold coins, along with the extraordinary materials that Sia had been purchasing.
Jima hurriedly ran to the outskirts of the White City to trade with the Temple.
She kept herself busy until evening, and after counting the extraordinary materials, she realized she could still make three jars to contain Jenna’s extraordinary abilities and two jars for Acanis’s abilities.
After some intimate moments with Jenna that night, she spent a whole night working hard to create two jars of “contained light.”
Jenna wiped the sweat off her face and mentioned that she might not have much time or magical energy to continue doing such things for Jima. This was due to the recent outbreak of an unnatural plague in the empire, causing infected individuals to lose their sanity and take over a city, creating a sensation throughout half the empire.
The other half remained undisturbed due to the primitive means of communication, which prevented the news from spreading.
According to Jenna, the current losses from this disaster were even more severe than the beastmen’s disaster in the Duchy of Casson, and things might worsen in the future.
After all, plagues cannot be eliminated by strict military discipline or sharp swords.
Jenna received the emperor’s order to assist in eradicating a cult, a task that only extraordinary individuals like her could undertake without fear of the plague.
“Make sure to find me if you face difficulties,” Jima said seriously. “I can bring George along.”
Jima was very worried that this beautiful girl might get infected, with her body oozing pus and filled with maggots; that would be truly tragic.
“Okay, Jima.”
After hearing this, Jima jokingly pinched Jenna’s chest, and then the two went to sleep together.
The next day, after extracting everything she could from Jenna, Jima began to set her sights on Acanis, aiming for his extraordinary abilities.
However, throughout the night, Acanis did not come online, which meant he had not slept at all.
Jima was forced to break her plans, push other matters forward, and wait for Acanis for another day.
To her surprise, he still did not come online.
“Is this guy dead or something?” Jima mused while munching on pistachio nuts. “Though it would be good if he were dead, could he at least wait until I’ve finished the potion jars before he dies?”
At this moment, Acanis sneezed, causing a few drops of blood to seep from his rib wound.
“Ah, looks like someone is cursing me to death again,” Acanis said with a pale face, smiling at the expressionless Welyn standing in front of him. “Hey, little brat, are you one of them?”
Welyn was dressed like a princess, in a gothic-style dress, with little leather shoes. Her face was delicate like a doll, and if it weren’t for her little hands constantly smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothing and removing the straw hanging from it, one would never guess she had been on the run with Acanis for three days.
Welyn shook her head.
“Looks like I’m managing quite well.”
Acanis was battered and bruised.
The rune armor thrown aside was severely deformed and had several holes. Even the craftsmanship of dwarves could not withstand the attacks Acanis had endured.
His left arm was shattered and the witch hunter’s high-top hat he once wore was long gone.
Now, revealing his true form, he looked like a short, silver-haired half-elf, with congealed blood sticking his hair to his cheek.
Welyn asked, “Are you a half-elf?”
“Yes, I like to experience life through other people’s identities,” Acanis said, breathing heavily with a throat that sounded like a battered bellows. He raised a hand to touch his head. “I actually liked that witch hunter’s hat… such a pity.”
“Are you really going to die?”
“Of course, unless someone rushes me to a master for treatment.”
But that was impossible, being out in the wilds.
“Any last words?”
“No, I’ve lived a really happy life.”
“Is it fun being a witch hunter?”
“Of course, burning evil things is quite enjoyable.” Acanis felt increasingly colder, his eyelids drooping. “So tired; I just want to sleep.”
Welyn took off her gloves, her sharp fingernails digging into her palm. The pain of being pierced by stakes while lying in a coffin surged to her mind. Her eyes turned blood-red as she took a step closer to Acanis.
Acanis, with his eyes half-closed, weakly said, “Oh, there’s one more thing.”
“Mm?”
Acanis reached out, accurately grabbing Welyn’s small hand, her sharp nails retracting like a cat’s claws.
“There’s something good… I want to give you.”
Acanis’s fingers trembled as he held Welyn’s small hand, exploring its contours and feeling her knuckles.
A tingling sensation spread from her palm to her fingertips.
An unusual feeling blossomed in Welyn’s heart. Acanis’s fingers finally reached the space between Welyn’s fingernails, lightly touching her index fingernail. A shadow moved from his fingernail to Welyn’s.
“Shadow Blade… for you…” Acanis’s hand fell limply, as he had barely any strength left to speak; the life force was swiftly leaving him. “You just… snap your fingernail…”
Welyn obediently snapped her fingernail, and instantly a dagger that seemed forged from shadows appeared in her palm. She had seen it before; it was Acanis’s most beloved weapon. On several occasions, she had expressed a desire to see it, but Acanis never let her.
With the last air in his lungs, Acanis wheezed, “You can steal… identity… side effect is a craving for theft… remember to burn my body.”
As he said this, his head drooped as he leaned against the tree, motionless.
Welyn had never felt such silence in the world. After a long while, she could finally hear the chirping of insects and the sound of the night wind rustling through the tree leaves.
Acanis leaned against the tree, like a gravestone.
Welyn turned away, not looking at him.
On the ground before her lay a few armored skeletons, with several charred stakes nailed into the still-burning tree trunks below, a layer of ash underneath belonging to a vampire who had been burned to death.
They had been chasing Acanis for days or perhaps chasing her.
These successors were so worried about her returning to the world. Even after heavily wounding Acanis, they came to seal her again.
Welyn took a few steps, lifting her small foot and forcefully stepping down onto a skeleton’s skull, crushing it in anger.
She turned back to look at Acanis, who resembled a gravestone.
Her feelings were complicated.
Regret for not taking action at the last moment to tear Acanis’s throat apart, and sadness at his departure.
Acanis was actually quite nice, even though he always forced her to drink milk, eat meat, and liked to drag her out to sunbathe. He was interesting; she’d never encountered such a fascinating being before.
But he had personally killed her, motivated by the ridiculous notion of living “as someone else.”
Welyn approached Acanis, unable to resist crouching down to tightly embrace him, her face touching his soft neck, which was already devoid of a pulse. The smell of blood filled her nostrils, and saliva accumulated between her teeth.
So delicious, so very delicious.
She couldn’t help but stretch out her tongue to lick and suck, her sharp teeth grazing Acanis’s neck. Just as she was about to bite down hard, it hit her that this person was already dead, his heart no longer beating. In a frenzy, Welyn tore off Acanis’s blood-stained bandages, stuffing them into her mouth and biting down hard, extracting the blood from them.
The bandages were shredded into rags by her bites. She licked the blood clean from her lips and spat out the rags. Crouching down again, she cradled Acanis’s chin with both small hands, aligning his face with hers, gritting her teeth as she said, “I really like you. Serve me and become my servant.”
With that, she planted a bloody kiss on Acanis’s lips.
But then she suddenly froze.
Even though Acanis would stand up again, would he still be the same? How much pain would he endure? He might even kill himself.
The pain from that day in the coffin resurfaced.
Welyn did not consider becoming a midnight aristocrat to be a blessing. Her mother was the first midnight aristocrat, who foolishly read a mysterious necromantic tome, clumsily prepared an undead potion, and gathered her knights to partake…
Afterwards, some went mad, some became foolish, their minds became deranged, ultimately leading to the collapse of the entire country.
Welyn was uncertain how Acanis would view himself as a midnight aristocrat; perhaps his peculiar personality would lead him to be very happy, saying he had always wanted to experience the feeling of transforming into a bat and being chased by witch hunters.
But Welyn was certain that she never wanted to become a midnight aristocrat; it was her mother who forcibly made her transform while pinning her down on a table.
Thus, Welyn finally released her grip. With a lingering gaze at Acanis’s lifeless face, as if trying to etch his visage into her mind, she turned to leave.
She did not want to personally burn Acanis’s corpse. Leaving him as a gravestone was fine too.
As Welyn walked, she began to run, putting distance between herself and the gravestone-like corpse, which suddenly disappeared from sight.
“Congratulations!”
Jima exclaimed dramatically, saying, “My good friend Acanis, you’ve come back to life.”
“Congratulations, congratulations.” Acanis sat up weakly in the hospital bed, clapping his hands. He glanced at George, who was standing silently behind Jima.
He quietly said to Jima, “At such a festive moment, can you keep your man away? I have this feeling he’s going to pull out a huge sword and chop me in half any second now.”
“I heard that,” George said.
“Not possible.”
“What a pity.”
“Because I have something even better to tell you.” Jima said, picking up a long piece of paper from the side table, covered in various numbers. “A platinum-level extraordinary person personally intervened using sacred medicines to save you with difficulty. The expenses are all listed here; I must congratulate you on owing the largest medical bill of your life.”
“How much gold?”
“Twenty-eight thousand gold coins.”
“Wow.” Acanis clapped his hands. “Congratulations, congratulations.”
“You have to pay it back,” Jima said. “There’s a labor-for-debt support plan; here’s the contract, sign it. George will witness it.”
“A ninety-year indenture contract?!” Acanis shot up his head and asked George, “Is that medical bill summary your wife provided real?”
George shook his head and said, “No, most of it was made up on the spot by her.”
“What about the sacred remedy?”
“Useless,” George said. “You’re still breathing, can dream; consider it a false death.”
“Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Because I don’t like you.”
After sleeping, Acanis was dragged into the dream palace by Jima for timely treatment.
“Then…” Acanis looked at Jima and smiled. “I’ll never be a slave; let’s just call it even.”
George’s iron hand fell on Acanis’s shoulder, pressing him down. “But this isn’t free.”
Jima said, “You can try to escape debt in front of George.”
Reluctantly, Acanis had no choice but to sign the two-finger-thick contract, with George stamping it by hand.
