"You're sure you can handle this?" I asked, eyeing The Man with the Mustache skeptically. The male corpse lay between us, its preserved features eerily lifelike despite being centuries old.
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "It's just babysitting a dead body. How hard could it be?"
"This isn't just any corpse. It's a Guardian Corpse of the Seventh Dynasty."
"Yes, yes, very rare, very valuable. You've ntioned that." He twirled his mustache between his fingers. "I'll keep it hidden until you return. Though I still think your plan is suicidal."
I ignored his comnt, focusing instead on securing the wrappings around the corpse. "Don't try to sell it. Don't show it to anyone. Just keep it safe until I get back with the mask."
"And if you don't co back?" he asked, his usual smirk fading.
"Then it's yours. Consider it paynt for your help."
He whistled low. "That valuable, huh? Almost makes hope you fail."
I shot him a dark look.
"I said almost!" He raised his hands defensively. "Relax. Your precious corpse will be waiting right here when you return... if you return."
I finished the final knot on the wrappings and straightened. "I need to focus on my cultivation before the auction. Every bit of strength could make the difference."
"About that." The Man with the Mustache leaned against the wall. "I've been hearing rumors that security at the auction has been doubled. Sothing about threats against high-profile guests."
"That would make things more complicated," I admitted, my mind already calculating adjustnts to my plan.
"More complicated?" He laughed without humor. "It was already impossible. Now it's... whatever's beyond impossible."
"I'll find a way. I always do."
He studied with uncharacteristic seriousness. "What exactly are you planning to do with these corpses once you control them? Storm the Guild headquarters? Rescue your damsel in distress?"
"Sothing like that."
"The entire Guild against you and two ancient corpses?" He shook his head. "Even if they're as powerful as legends say, those aren't odds I'd bet on."
I didn't answer. I didn't need to. We both knew I had no choice.
"Just keep this safe," I said, gesturing to the wrapped corpse. "I'll handle the rest."
As I left his hideout, my mind was already shifting to the next phase of my plan. I needed more power, and fast. The auction was two days away, and every mont counted.
---
In the heart of Veridia City, behind walls of stone and arrays of defensive formations, Dominic Ashworth flexed his hand, watching with fascination as energy crackled between his fingertips.
"Incredible," he murmured to himself, feeling the raw power coursing through his veins. The blood enhancent ritual had exceeded his expectations. He could feel himself crossing thresholds that would have taken years to achieve through normal cultivation.
A servant knocked timidly at his door. "Master Dominic, your father requests your presence in his study."
Dominic smiled, extinguishing the energy in his palm. "Tell him I'll be right there."
He took his ti walking through the Ashworth mansion, enjoying the new sensation of strength with each step. Servants bowed lower than before, sensing the change in him. Even the guards stood straighter as he passed.
When he entered his father's study, Corbin Ashworth was standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the city.
"You wanted to see , Father?"
Corbin turned slowly. "How do you feel?"
"Powerful," Dominic answered honestly. "More than I ever imagined."
"Good." Corbin's face remained impassive. "You'll need that power in the days to co."
"Has sothing happened?"
"The Guild is moving forward with their plans to distribute Isabelle's bloodline enhancents to other families." Corbin's voice was tight with barely controlled rage. "They've prepared a list of 'worthy recipients.'"
Dominic frowned. "That was always the arrangent. The Ashworth family gets first access, but the Guild controls the ultimate distribution."
"An arrangent I never agreed to!" Corbin slamd his fist on his desk, cracking the polished wood. "The Ashworth bloodline belongs to the Ashworth family. It should strengthen our position alone, not be handed out to our rivals."
"What can we do? The Guild is too powerful to challenge directly."
Corbin's eyes narrowed. "For now, perhaps. But power shifts. Alliances change."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Nothing, yet." Corbin settled into his chair. "For now, we play their ga. You will attend the auction as planned, representing our family's interests."
"And Isabelle?" Dominic asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.
"What about her?"
"I've heard... rumors. About her potential."
Corbin's expression darkened. "What rumors?"
"That her bloodline manifestation could be stronger than anything our family has seen in generations." Dominic hesitated. "So say she might even surpass the Founding Ancestor's power if fully awakened."
"Nonsense," Corbin snapped, but Dominic caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Isabelle was always weak, sickly. That's why we never bothered with her training."
"And if those rumors are true?"
A heavy silence filled the room.
"Then we must ensure she remains firmly under our family's control," Corbin finally said. "The Guild thinks they can use her as their personal blood bank, doling out her power to their favorites. We may need to revise that arrangent."
Dominic nodded slowly, hiding his own concerns. If Isabelle truly had the potential they whispered about, his own recently acquired power might pale in comparison. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had spent too long in her shadow when they were children, enduring his father's comparisons and disappointnt.
"I'll keep my ears open at the auction," he offered. "Many tongues loosen with enough wine and flattery."
"See that you do." Corbin waved him away. "And rember, whatever power you now possess is ant to serve the Ashworth family first. Your personal ambitions co second."
"Of course, Father." Dominic bowed slightly. "Always."
As he left the study, his father's words echoed in his mind. The Ashworth bloodline belongs to the Ashworth family. But in truth, he thought, it belonged to whoever had the strength to claim it. And now, with his enhanced powers, he was stronger than ever.
A smile crept across his face as he walked back to his chambers. Let his father sche and plot. Dominic had plans of his own.
---
In a private chamber within the Veridia City Martial Guild headquarters, three figures sat around a circular table, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of floating light orbs.
"The list is finalized," Darian Bancroft, Elder of the Enforcent Division, slid a docunt across the table. "Twenty nas. All have t our criteria and provided the required... donations to the Guild's coffers."
High Elder Julian Radford scanned the list, his weathered face revealing nothing. "So interesting choices here. The Blackthornes will be displeased they're not higher on the list."
"They can be displeased all they want," Bancroft replied. "Their recent failures have cost them favor. If not for their historical contributions, they wouldn't be on the list at all."
The third figure, a woman with silver-streaked hair and calculating eyes, traced a finger down the list. "And the dosages? Have we determined the optimal amount?"
"Our alchemists suggest starting with small infusions," Bancroft explained. "The bloodline is potent. Too much too quickly could have... unfortunate effects."
"Like what happened to the Zhao heir last month," Julian Radford murmured. "Most unfortunate." This is part of a series from My Virtual Library Empire (*).
"A miscalculation," Bancroft dismissed. "We've refined the process since then. And the Ashworth bloodline is more stable than most."
"Speaking of Ashworths," the woman said, "Corbin won't be pleased about sharing his family's power."
Bancroft snorted. "Corbin's pleasure is not our concern. He seems to forget who really controls this city."
"Still," Julian cautioned, "the Ashworths are not to be underestimated. Their influence runs deep."
"Which is precisely why we need to dilute their power advantage," Bancroft argued. "Allowing one family to monopolize such a powerful bloodline creates imbalance."
"An imbalance we can control," the woman pointed out.
"Exactly, Elder Ming." Bancroft nodded approvingly. "By controlling distribution, we remain the power brokers. Everyone must co to us, bow to us, pay us for access."
Julian Radford set the list down. "The auction preparations are complete?"
"Yes. Security has been doubled as you requested. No one without proper credentials will get within a hundred yards of the venue."
A knock at the door interrupted them. Bancroft frowned, gesturing for the others to wait as he answered it.
Erson Hols stood in the hallway, looking nervous but determined.
"This had better be important," Bancroft growled.
"It is, Elder." Hols bowed deeply. "May I speak with you privately? It concerns a matter of Guild security."
Bancroft glanced back at the other Elders, who nodded their permission. He stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
"Speak quickly."
Hols licked his lips. "It's about the Black-Robed Reaper, sir."
Bancroft's eyes narrowed. "What about him? He's been dealt with."
"No, sir. I an, yes, officially. But..." Hols lowered his voice. "He's alive. And I know who he is."
"Impossible. We confird the body ourselves."
"A deception, sir. I've seen him with my own eyes." Hols leaned closer. "It's Liam Knight."
Bancroft's expression didn't change, but his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly at his sides. "The disgraced live-in son-in-law? That's who you think is behind the mask?"
"I don't think, sir. I know. He's threatened , forced to help him. He's planning sothing at the auction."
"And you're only coming forward now?" Bancroft's voice was dangerously soft.
Hols swallowed hard. "I was afraid. He... he's not what he seems. His power is beyond anything I've encountered."
Bancroft studied Hols for a long mont. "And what do you expect to do with this information?"
"Stop him, of course." Hols looked confused. "He's dangerous. He wants revenge against the Guild for taking the Ashworth woman."
Understanding dawned in Bancroft's eyes. "Ah. So that's his connection. The boyfriend."
"Yes, sir."
"And you're certain he plans to make a move at the auction?"
"It's the perfect opportunity," Hols insisted. "Everyone who's wronged him will be there. Plus, I've heard him asking questions about certain auction items."
Bancroft was silent for several seconds, considering. "This information could be valuable. If true."
"I swear it on my life, Elder Bancroft."
"Your life." Bancroft smiled thinly. "Yes, that seems appropriate collateral." He placed a hand on Hols's shoulder. "You will attend the auction. Point this man out to if he appears. If your information proves correct, you'll be rewarded. If not..."
The threat hung unfinished in the air.
"I understand, sir." Hols bowed again. "Thank you for your rcy."
As Hols hurried away, Bancroft returned to the private chamber, his mind already calculating the advantages this new information provided.
"A minor issue," he explained to his colleagues. "Nothing that can't be handled."
"Is everything prepared for tomorrow, then?" Julian Radford asked.
"Yes," Bancroft replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. "In fact, I believe the auction may prove even more interesting than we anticipated."
---
The day of the auction arrived with clear skies and a cool breeze—perfect weather for Veridia City's elite to showcase their finest attire and most dazzling jewels. From my vantage point atop a neighboring building, I watched as carriages and palanquins lined up at the Guild's entrance, disgorging nobles and rchants eager to see and be seen.
I adjusted the black mask covering the lower half of my face, my mind running through the plan one final ti. Everything had to be perfect. The timing, the execution, the escape. One mistake would an failure—and most likely, death.
"Not getting cold feet, are you?"
I didn't turn at the sound of The Man with the Mustache's voice. "Just finalizing the details."
"Well, finalize quickly. Your window of opportunity is shrinking by the minute." He moved to stand beside , watching the procession below. "I still think you're insane."
"You've made that clear." I flexed my hand, feeling the energy coursing through my ridians. I'd pushed my cultivation to its limits over the past two days, but it still didn't feel like enough.
"Julian Radford himself is in attendance," The Man with the Mustache continued. "Along with at least six other Martial Saints. This is quite possibly the most dangerous gathering in Veridia City's history."
"All the more reason to make a statent."
He sighed dramatically. "Well, if you're determined to die, at least do it after retrieving my sword." He handed a small pouch. "Smoke bombs. Special blend. They'll create more confusion than damage."
I tucked the pouch into my robes. "The corpse?"
"Safe and sound, as promised. Though I'm still not convinced it's worth dying for."
"It's not about the corpse." I finally turned to face him. "It's about Isabelle. It's always been about Isabelle."
Sothing like understanding flickered in his eyes. "Love. The most dangerous motivation of all." He straightened his jacket. "Well, I've done my part. The rest is up to you."
"Rember our deal."
"How could I forget?" He gave a mock salute. "Good luck, Liam Knight. Try not to die too painfully."
As he disappeared back into the shadows, I returned my attention to the Guild headquarters. The entrance was now crowded with guests showing their invitations to the guards. Security was tight, just as The Man with the Mustache had warned.
But I had co too far to turn back now. Isabelle was counting on , even if she didn't know it yet.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what was to co. In a few hours, I would either have the ans to save her, or I would join the ranks of those who had failed against the Guild's might.
Either way, by tonight, everything would change.
Below , I spotted a familiar face entering the auction hall—Julian Radford, one of the Guild's highest-ranking officials. The man whose organization had taken Isabelle, who had sanctioned her use as a human resource.
My jaw tightened as I watched him smile and greet the other guests, playing the gracious host while people suffered under his command.
"Enjoy your party while you can," I whispered. "It'll be your last."
The sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and gold. Soon, darkness would fall.
And with it, my chance to strike.
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