Chương 613: The Price of a Dragon

"A dragon is a dragon," the man replied. A Rhiannon? Here? Not just one, either. At least two. The older man, and the younger one sitting beside him. I didn't expect to run into one of them. There have to be others here too. For a moment, Luke wondered if he should take advantage of the opportunity. One of those bastards from that family was here, outside the walls of their kingdom, far from their queen's protection. But his enemies were not weak. They had killed Sea Guardians, both of them.

Which meant they were strong. At the very least, they're below Rank C. So minimum Rank D. That meant somewhere between level 99 and 199. Probably stronger than me. And they've got that ice bloodline on top of it, the one that makes their ice skills exponentially stronger. Luke chose to study them instead. What are these two Rhiannons to Allison? Her family had been around for a hundred years, and its members did not die easily.

Which meant either of them could be some uncle born eighty years before her, or some distant cousin from who knew what branch. There was no way to tell. Or one of them could be... Allison's father. With the system involved, either one of them could have been her father. Even the one who looked around Luke's age. Even if I hate that family... He did not know if he could cross the line and kill Allison's father. Truthfully, lately he was not even sure he could kill any of them.

Allison hated her own family, yes, but she had never said she wanted them dead. She only wanted to leave. To be free of them. To forget them. The only being she ever told me she wanted to kill was the God of Assassination. That thought dragged Luke into a fresh wave of doubt. Should he kill one of the Rhiannons? How would he feel if it were someone from his own family instead? Even someone who had treated him badly? He exhaled slowly. Ever since I found out my mother is alive... some things stopped being so simple.

Meanwhile, people around the amphitheater had begun giving their names and introducing themselves, though most clearly preferred to stay quiet. A few stood out. Silas, leader of the New Era faction. A man in a blue cloak and an owl mask who called himself Mr. W. He was not alone. Several others wore the same blue coat and mask. Their uniforms looked vaguely like old British police attire, something more Victorian than modern.

"I'm more interested in the vote," Mr. W said, "but I must admit it is fascinating to find several individuals here who are cataloged as wanted criminals. Very interesting."

"And are you planning to arrest me?" Selma asked. The only thing Luke had heard about her was that she represented the Thieves' Guild, someone with real rank inside it.

"Petty theft is hardly a pressing concern in this world, Lady Selma, though the crimes you committed were anything but petty. No, I was referring to more troublesome figures." Mr. W gestured toward the section where the gunmen were seated. They were, in fact, killers. Not the kind who hid in shadows, though. They were more like hired assassins, or maybe mercenaries with better aim.

"Eyes of the Night. An interesting organization, wouldn't you say, Mr. Moon?" said the person seated directly in front of him.

"I thought he was talking about you, Erza," Luke said. Erza Grimhart was there too.

"Oh, no. They wouldn't dare do that," she said lightly.

"Besides, I doubt they even know who I am. I'm not exactly the type to announce myself." Eyes of the Night, Mr. W's organization, functioned as a kind of police force. It was not controlled by any government or by worshippers of some god. It was a faction born with the goal of founding a global constitution, a single legal code that everyone would be expected to follow. Their god was not a divine figure. It was their interpretation of Law itself. An organization created to bring order. Pragmatically.

Even their hierarchy was modeled after a courtroom.

"Each Judge receives a new name," Erza said.

"A letter."

"So Mr. W is one of the Judges."

"I don't like people like those little judges in that organization." She tilted her head slightly.

"By the way, congratulations on killing a Sea Guardian. Looks like only a thousand were made available during this first phase."

"Same to you. And where's your sister?"

"With someone you might want to see again." Luke narrowed his eyes.

"And by the way," Erza added, "the knight who was protecting you was very pretty."

"Charlie?" he asked under his breath.

"You know where she is?"

"Follow me after this meeting and find out." Then the attention of everyone present was pulled elsewhere. A woman had entered. She wore armor with gold detailing. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Hero Serena. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" Silas asked. Luke glanced at the system interface. Nothing had updated. If he really wants some kind of vote, he's doing a good job of making sure we know exactly who's standing beside us.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Serena began, "as you all know, we are living through a global crisis."

"Oh, really?" Selma replied dryly.

"You should've told me sooner. I somehow missed that when I got sucked off my toilet into space and woke up staring at a planet."

"I don't care about the jokes," Serena said.

"But I believe our situation is far more serious than it appears. When the event teleported all of us, it also brought in many dangerous people, including prisoners who had been in custody, while leaving countless innocents unprotected."

"When you say innocents," Silas said, "I assume you mean people from your government. Have you found your president yet?"

"On that matter, I can't answer. But I can share something with you." Serena's voice sharpened.

"In our region of the event, there is a fugitive terrorist. A global-level threat. And I believe he is going to become a major problem." A global-level threat? Erza leaned back in her chair.

"She means a Rank D individual."

"And what does that have to do with us?" the Rhiannon man asked, speaking for the first time.

"He is known as Tobias, a member of Reaper Court. A wanted criminal. I've been trying to track him, but all I've found are the remains of the chaos he left behind." Reaper Court? They had been involved in the sabotage of the Kingdom of Lagras, the Cassandra incident, the Miles incident.

"The Hero of Flames is working with me. He's trying to track Tobias down right now. Tobias is a powerful necromancer. He's aboard a ship full of undead under his control, moving from island to island and killing anyone he finds. In this world, he's free to roam without fear of drawing the unwanted attention of the World Government."

"There are greater concerns than that, Hero Serena," an old man said. There was no weakness in him despite his age. He stood beside several others dressed like him, silver armor paired with red cloth bearing the symbol of a sun.

"The greatest threat we face, and the one that may bring grave consequences to our world after this event ends, is the vampires." Vampires? Luke felt it click. Don't tell me these people are...

"We of the Dawn Church are willing to help you fight this enemy you speak of," said the woman beside the old man, "but only if you swear to join our cause." Luke listened as the argument took shape, quietly collecting names. The man was called Karl, one of the bishops of the Dawn Church, an organization devoted to hunting vampires.

"I don't see why your claim that vampires are the greater threat should be taken seriously," Mr. W said.

"So far, the few vampires sighted in our world have been hunted down."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but the world is moving in a different direction now," Silas said.

"There's no reason for us to be worrying about that in the middle of this event. Not that I'd agree with the heroine Serena's proposal either, but her problem is at least measurable, trackable. Unlike this idea of yours, running around hunting something that might not even be anywhere near us in this region of Sunken Realms."

"We have proof. Bodies were found on islands with puncture marks, completely drained of blood. We've also had reports of attacks." The man's voice sharpened, and a murmur spread through the room.

"Listen. Vampires can infiltrate. They can spread. This chaos, this event, it's the perfect moment for them. If the vampire is powerful enough, they can offer strength to some desperate fool trying to survive. There is no order anymore. Vampires can kill freely now. Who would know? Who would report a disappearance when all of us are scattered across islands? That's why I believe we should use our forces to hunt down any vampire residing in this region."

"Rejected," said one of the Rhiannons, though not the older man. The younger one.

"That idea is garbage."

"I'd like to continue discussing our issue with the Reaper," Serena said.

"There is no our issue, Serena," the older Rhiannon said.

"There is your issue. If you chose to accept the advantages of your class, then bear the obligations that come with it. I will be dedicating myself to clearing this event."

"I believe he could become a threat to your people too. There are members of your kingdom scattered across these islands."

"The strong rule. The weak are ruled," he replied.

"That is how things are. Now, it would be different if I were in my kingdom and your enemy were trying to invade the home of the Rhiannons."

"Our gunslingers are available for hire, for the right price, of course," one of the gunmen said. He wore gray and was one of the few among them who had actually introduced himself. His name was Ronald. Codename: Red Death.

"Though I don't come cheap." At his waist hung pistols made of deep crimson metal. Not a skill like the gunslinger Luke had fought before. Real pistols. The kind that looked like they had come straight out of the Old West.

"But there's one problem, heroine. Your government collapsed when technology died. Banks won't exist anymore. Digital money is gone. Physical money won't mean a damn thing after the event. New World currency, though, that'll keep its value, at least for a while. But money isn't what I want." He smiled.

"What I want is the heart of a Rhiannon dragon. Give me that, and I'll work for you." The room went cold. The temperature dropped so sharply it felt like winter had just stepped inside.

"Now you have my attention," the older Rhiannon said, rising from his chair.

"Uncle," the younger one said quickly, "I don't think it's worth listening to nonsense from lesser castes."

"But sometimes even the buzz of a fly can become irritating," he replied. The gunslinger had one hand resting on his holster. Luke noticed the mood in the room shift all at once. Then, suddenly, the Rhiannon smiled and sat back down.

"I'd like you to repeat what you just said somewhere far from the Citadel. I will not be the one to create chaos in a place like this." The cold in the room slowly faded. The gunslinger still wore that same easy smile.

"Or hire the other gunslingers to do it for you. Either way, our faction profits." Red Death leaned back into his seat.

"Bravo, bravo, Lord Rhiannon," Silas said.

"Very noble of you not to take the bait, especially considering you belong to a little club that dreams of building its own Olympus."

"So far, the system hasn't notified us of what we're actually supposed to do here," said a man stepping forward. He wore a red robe with white details. He was tall, thin, almost gaunt. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his skin was pale, but not pale like Luke's. This was corpse-pale.

"If any of you came here hoping to find a vampire, my money's on that guy," Selma said.

"I don't mind jokes about my appearance." The man's voice remained calm.

"But I should introduce myself. My name is Lestat. I belong to a special cult, an order that is a little more... obscure. What we worship may not be to your liking." [Requirements Met!] [The vote will begin!]"What changed?" someone asked.

"Fifty-one percent of the people present have introduced themselves by name," Erza said.

"The system really does have a sense of humor." That was probably why Lestat had bothered introducing himself at all. Everyone turned their attention to the information appearing before them. [The event has progressed considerably for those of you in this region. In response, the 51 has made two choices available. You have one hour to decide and cast your vote. The option with the majority will be chosen.] Then the options appeared. The Red and Blue Choice On the main table are three containers.

One holds red tokens, one holds blue tokens, and the third is empty. You must choose the color you want and place that token into the third container. Whichever color receives the most votes will determine the chosen option. Then two more notifications appeared.