The newly opened corridor stretched onward.
This time—
it did not twist.
It did not branch.
It led only forward.
After several minutes—
the narrow passage suddenly widened.
The group stepped into an enormous circular chamber.
Ancient stone pillars surrounded the vast room.
Countless runes glowed faintly across the floor, casting a dim, ethereal light over the chamber.
Waiting for them—
stood several cloaked figures.
None of them spoke.
The moment Draven's group entered—
**Rumble...**
The corridor behind them shifted.
Stone ground against stone.
The entrance sealed shut.
Only a solid wall remained.
Aldric glanced over his shoulder.
"...Heh."
"...Guess we're not leaving that way."
Across the chamber—
every cloaked figure slowly raised an arm.
Mana surged.
One magic circle after another bloomed into existence before them.
The atmosphere instantly grew tense.
Kaelira's wolf ears shot upright.
Her muscles tensed.
Ryke unconsciously took half a step backward.
Cold sweat formed across his forehead.
Aldric merely grinned.
"...Now *that's* a welcome."
He rested one hand casually on his shoulder.
"...You people sure know how to greet your guests."
One of the cloaked figures finally spoke.
The voice was distorted by magic.
"...Explain yourselves."
"...Immediately."
Pythia stepped forward.
"...I—"
Before she could continue—
Draven walked past her.
Without the slightest hesitation.
Everyone's eyes shifted toward him.
His appearance slowly began to change.
His brown hair gradually faded—
becoming white once more.
His blue eyes deepened—
returning to their natural crimson.
The concealment spell dispersed completely.
Silence.
The cloaked figures froze.
Several visibly stiffened.
One instinctively took half a step backward.
"...You..."
Another immediately recognized him.
"...The Dark One."
A third's voice carried unmistakable disbelief.
"...The Demon King's son..."
The chamber fell completely silent.
Every magic circle remained active—
yet no one attacked.
They simply stared—
at the white-haired young vampire standing calmly before them.
Draven met their gazes without the slightest emotion.
"...Yeah."
His voice echoed quietly through the chamber.
"...Now."
He looked from one cloaked figure to the next.
"...Which one of you..."
"...is in charge?"
Silence filled the chamber.
The tension became almost tangible.
One of the cloaked figures finally spoke.
"...What is the meaning of this?"
Another stepped forward.
"...And what exactly are your intentions?"
Before Draven could answer—
Pythia stepped forward once more.
She lowered her head respectfully toward him.
Then turned to face the others.
"...Allow me."
"...I will explain."
She drew in a slow breath.
"...My Lord..."
She briefly glanced toward Draven.
"...is the True Lord whom I serve."
"...Not the Abyss."
A ripple spread through the gathered cultists.
Pythia's voice grew firmer.
"...My Lord..."
"...is the one and only True Lord of the Abyss."
Behind her—
Aldric blinked.
Then rubbed his forehead.
"...Damn."
He let out a low whistle.
"...She's really letting all the fanaticism out now."
He looked toward Pythia.
"...What a devoted little rat you've become."
The gathered figures erupted.
"...You what?!"
"...What the hell are you claiming?!"
Another pointed directly at Pythia.
"...You are no longer one of us!"
"...You betrayed the Cult!"
"...You betrayed our cause!"
"...You betrayed the Abyss Lords!"
"...For that..."
"...you will—"
"**INSOLENT!**"
Pythia's voice thundered throughout the chamber.
Everyone froze.
Her usually calm expression had vanished.
Her crimson eyes blazed with fury.
"...You dare..."
"...question my devotion?"
She took another step forward.
"...I never betrayed anyone."
"...I merely came to know the truth."
Her voice trembled—
not with fear—
but with unwavering conviction.
"...The eyes that were once blind..."
"...have finally been opened."
She slowly turned toward Draven.
"...I saw my Lord..."
"...with these very eyes."
She placed a hand over her chest.
"...I witnessed Him slay a Named Entity."
"...I witnessed Him absorb it."
Her gaze returned to the cultists.
"...There is no longer even the slightest doubt within my heart."
She spoke every word without hesitation.
"...He..."
"...is the True Lord."
Silence.
Several of the cloaked figures exchanged uncertain glances.
Some hesitated.
Others remained unmoved.
Finally—
one of them spoke coldly.
"...Ridiculous."
Another scoffed.
"...You compare a mere vampire..."
"...to the Abyss Lords?"
A third stepped forward.
"...Not even a pure-blooded vampire."
"...A mixed-blood."
"...Your mind has been corrupted."
"...Your betrayal is complete."
"...You deserve—"
"**Morons!**"
Pythia cut him off.
Her voice echoed throughout the chamber.
"...Every last one of you!"
She pointed toward the gathered cultists.
"...Blind."
"...Utterly blind."
"...Unable to see the truth standing before your very eyes!"
Her breathing quickened.
"...You accuse me of betrayal?"
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"...No."
"...You are the traitors."
"...Every single one of you."
"...You have betrayed my Lord..."
"...and still dare speak of loyalty!"
The chamber itself seemed to tremble beneath the force of her conviction.
Behind her—
Aldric sighed dramatically.
"...Alright."
He scratched the side of his head.
"...You've done enough."
Pythia slowly fell silent.
Aldric stepped forward.
As he did—
his disguise dissolved.
His dark hair shifted back to burgundy.
His brown eyes returned to their crimson hue.
His true appearance was revealed once more.
The cultists visibly stiffened again.
Aldric grinned.
"...Well."
He slowly looked around the chamber.
"...Doesn't seem like words are going to convince you idiots."
He rolled one shoulder.
Crimson mana slowly seeped from his body.
The pressure within the chamber immediately began to rise.
"...Guess we'll have to try something..."
His grin widened into a feral smile.
"...A little more persuasive."