Chapter 15: Unexpected Windfall

His great vengeance fulfilled, as if he had set down a heavy burden, Rein felt completely relaxed and in a very cheerful mood.

He glanced at Ramsey's corpse and muttered, "Last time you took my money; this time it's my turn."

So he stepped forward and searched, finding only a wallet and nothing else.

Without examining how much money was in the wallet, Rein dragged Ramsey's corpse to throw it into the river, and suddenly noticed that his strength had increased considerably.

Ramsey was an adult and not light, but Rein dragged him effortlessly—he could even lift him with one hand, as easily as picking up a brick.

"My strength has gone up at least two or three times!"

Pleasantly surprised, Rein hurled Ramsey's corpse into the river with all his might, actually throwing it six or seven meters. It hit the water with a splash and was soon swept away by the current.

After disposing of the body, Rein immediately headed back while checking his own condition.

"Holy shit!"

Rein had just opened the phone interface and was startled. "The battery is actually fully charged—no wonder my strength increased so much."

He had been in combat the whole time and hadn't paid special attention to the phone's battery level; he had only glanced at it when he killed Eisberg. At that moment it had surged past 50% in an instant, and afterward he had absorbed three more people's souls—one of them an Iron Guard—without realizing it, the battery had reached 100%!

Rein had speculated before that the stronger the soul he absorbed, the more battery he would gain; now it seemed that was indeed the case.

The first time he absorbed that Fallen One's soul, it had contributed eight bars of battery.

The Fallen One was just an ordinary person, but of the four people he absorbed tonight, two were Transcendents. Eisberg in particular was a Level 2 Shadow Warrior—his soul alone was as strong as five ordinary people.

Add the Iron Guard and two ordinary people, and it came to roughly a full charge.

"I just felt like my soul had been elevated—I thought it was an illusion, but my soul strength really has risen to a new stage."

Rein had long understood that the battery level was not only closely tied to his physical condition but also represented the strength of his soul.

The higher the battery, the stronger the soul.

Now that the battery was full, Rein's physical fitness had increased along with it. Though still not at the level of a Transcendent, it far surpassed that of an ordinary person—like someone who had trained continuously for years, feeling inexhaustible energy throughout his whole body, as if he would never tire.

In addition, several icons in the phone had been activated all at once, but there was no time to explore them now.

Rein quickly returned to the carriage. Eisberg's corpse was still there.

The horse, gravely injured from the fall, was not yet dead and let out whinnies of pain from time to time. Two of its legs were broken and it would never run again. The coachman, however, had long since gone cold. He had been the first to die, and perhaps because he was farther away, Rein had not absorbed the coachman's soul.

Rein climbed into the carriage and searched through it but found nothing of value.

Similarly, Eisberg had only a wallet on him.

He went over, picked up Eisberg's longsword, returned to the carriage, and thrust the blade through the horse's skull, ending its suffering.

A soul flew out from the horse's corpse and was absorbed by Rein, but no change occurred.

"It seems that once the battery is full, absorbing more souls is useless."

Rein sheathed the longsword, slung it on his back, held the shotgun in his hands, and headed toward the manor.

The manor was very quiet. Rein hid in the bushes outside and waited patiently for over ten minutes, but saw no one else come out—clearly there was no one left.

However, he did not let his guard down. Holding the gun close to the wall, he explored inward step by step.

The manor was not large, and Rein soon searched through it roughly, finding no one, which finally put him somewhat at ease.

The furnishings in this manor were simpler than he had expected, with many areas not carefully maintained.

The rooms on the third floor were all empty, the interior decor was low-grade, and the sanitation was very poor—the kitchen reeked to high heaven. It did not look like a place where a wealthy person would vacation.

Only one room on the second floor was relatively clean; that must have been where Eisberg stayed.

Rein rummaged through everything and finally found a leather suitcase under the desk. It felt heavy when he lifted it, as if it were packed full of things.

The rectangular suitcase was not large and was not locked—just undoing two latches would open it.

Rein stood a bit farther back, used the longsword to flip open the latches, and opened the suitcase.

"Hiss..."

Rein drew a sharp breath and almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, because the suitcase was stuffed full of money!

The money was all in 100-copper-coin notes, stacked and bundled neatly, filling the entire suitcase. By visual estimate there were about thirty to forty bundles of notes, each bundle a hundred notes—that is, ten thousand copper coins. The money in this suitcase added up to over three hundred thousand!

"Damn, I've struck it rich!"

Rein was thrilled. For the past half month he had been getting by on a little savings left from before, always worrying about how to earn money. So he had just pocketed Ramsey's and Eisberg's wallets, never expecting that in the blink of an eye he would come into an unexpected windfall.

"This must be money Eisberg got from fencing stolen goods, and it's only a small portion. Most of it is probably still hidden in his home in the city."

Rein was not blinded by the money; he had to make sure it carried no hidden risks.

He poured all the money out of the suitcase, checked every bundle of notes to make sure nothing was hidden inside, then found a sack to pack it in rather than putting it back in the suitcase.

"Three hundred and sixty thousand in total, equivalent to 360 Gold Shields—truly a hefty sum."

Rein happily carried the sack of money downstairs, ready to leave.

As he came down the stairs, his gaze swept over a small door at the corner, and he could not help but stop.

This kind of small door under the staircase usually led to a cellar for storing wine or food. When he had searched the manor earlier, he had not noticed this door and had passed it by.

Now, he noticed that a faint glimmer of light was seeping through the crack—so faint that without the Eye of the Soul, one likely would not have noticed it at all.

"Someone behind the door?"

Startled, Rein immediately dropped the sack, aimed the gun at the small door, and backed away step by step, seizing the most advantageous position.

However, he waited for a long time and there was no movement behind the door.

The faint light still seeped out from time to time, but there was no sound.

"No one? Or some other situation?"

Rein decided to investigate.

He carefully felt around the door and found it was unlocked—a hard push opened it. Behind the door was a flight of stairs leading underground, and on the wall hung a dim kerosene lamp. The wick was so short it was about to go out, the flame flickering from time to time.

Rein carefully scanned the passage several times and found nothing like a mechanism, then lightened his steps and slowly went down.

At the bottom of the stairs was a corner. When Rein rounded it, he was immediately stunned by the sight before him.

It was a dim underground room with stone walls on all four sides, rectangular in shape, and in the middle stood a rhombus-shaped altar half a meter tall.

A corpse lay on the altar, its belly slit open, all its internal organs removed and arranged along the altar's edge, its limbs dismembered and piled together in a bizarre configuration. The head was still attached, but the scalp had been peeled off and the flesh from the face scraped clean away, exposing bare white bone, leaving only the skull connected to the torso.

On the corpse's chest lay an open tome.

Aside from this corpse, skulls were scattered everywhere across the basement, and piles of white bones filled the corners.

The floor was stained black with blood; gusts of cold wind swept through the basement, and the anguished wails that echoed from time to time set the heart racing—who knew how many people had met their end here, offered up as sacrifices.

"An altar to an evil god!"

Lei En had never seen anything like this and felt his scalp tingle.

The blood on the altar had not yet fully dried; he finally understood what Eisberg and Ramsay had been doing in the manor—holding a sacrificial ritual to an evil god.

"The rumors are true—the Shadowblade killers really do worship an evil god."

Lei En murmured to himself, but he did not know which evil god the Shadowblade worshipped. This evil god seemed to be a taboo within the Empire; ordinary people knew nothing about Him, and no one had ever mentioned Him before.

"Of course it's true."

A voice suddenly rang out from behind.

Lei En jumped at the unexpected sound, and from the corner of his eye caught a shadow approaching from behind; without thinking, he swung around and fired a shot.

Bang!

The gunshot cracked through the passage, echoing back and forth.

Amid the billowing white smoke, dozens of small steel pellets blanketed half the passage—including that figure.

By then Lei En could see the other person clearly—it was none other than Roger, the legendary demon hunter from the Basil Inn. Roger clearly had no hostile intent, but the shot was already fired and too late to stop.

A layer of golden light lit up before Roger like a spherical shield; the steel pellets struck it, sending ripples across its surface, then bounced off without doing any harm.

Through the golden shield, one could see that Roger's left hand was formed into a strange hand seal.

He released the hand seal and the shield vanished.

"Is this the gun you made in Zoltan's workshop?" Roger looked at the shotgun in Lei En's hand, a glint of curiosity in his cat-pupil eyes, and said with admiration, "Impressive power, and what's rarest is that ordinary people can use it too."

"Master Roger, what are you doing here? You startled me."

Lei En casually shifted the muzzle away, not wanting to dwell on the shotgun.

He had not yet decided whether to promote gunpowder firearms in the future, because he did not know what impact such weapons—usable by ordinary people and capable of threatening Transcendents—might have on the world if mass-produced and widely distributed.

Moreover, he knew nothing of Roger's character or background, so he could not be too cautious.

As for calling Roger "Master," he had picked that up from the guests at the inn.

"Master" did not refer to Roger's prowess as a demon hunter but to his card skills—he had once competed in the Empire's highest-level All-Spirits Card Tournament and earned the title of "Master."

"I followed you here," Roger replied mildly, and the words sent a jolt of alarm through Lei En's heart.