The gates of Hollowshade creaked like dying throats as they pushed open, stone dust raining down from above. Seth stepped out into the gray daylight, the hem of his stolen crimson tunic dragging in the dirt.
Valtheriz followed, cloak sweeping behind him with all the pomp of a monarch, until his eyes lifted to the sight before them.
The once-proud grounds of Hollowshade Castle were nothing but ruins. Cracked spires jutted into the sky like broken teeth. Black stone towers leaned precariously, their banners long rotted away. The gardens had collapsed into wild, thorn-choked tangles. The outer walls bore gaps so wide a goat could walk through them.
Valtheriz stopped cold. His mouth parted, but no sound came. For the first time since Seth had met him, the vampire king looked… small.
Seth tilted his head, watching. "What's the matter? Don't like your new fixer-upper?"
The vampire's jaw tightened. He didn't respond.
Seth almost felt bad. Almost. "Look on the bright side," he said, stepping over a fallen gargoyle. "At least no one's around to charge you rent."
They walked in silence down the weed-cracked road, the ruin of Hollowshade looming behind them. After a while, Seth spotted something white sprouting from the roadside brush. He crouched. "Well, what do you know?"
A crooked little stalk of an herb poked through the dirt, leaves spiraling upward in a shape he recognized from the guild's sketch.
"Finally," Seth muttered, yanking it free. "Quest complete. Only took me bleeding all over an altar, and making a pact with Dracula's sad cousin."
Valtheriz blinked in confusion.
"Who is this Dracula?"
Together, they made the trek back to Viremont. As they passed through the gates, the effect was immediate. Heads turned. Merchants froze mid-sale. A pair of guards stiffened and gripped their spears. Seth, still spattered in dried blood, dragging his boots like a corpse, was already enough to draw stares. Adding Valtheriz, who was a tall, pale individual with an interesting sense of fashion, turned the street into a silent parade of gawking.
By the time they reached the guild doors, Seth could feel every eye burning into the back of his neck, perhaps even more than the last time he was here.
On the other hand, it seemed as though Valtheriz didn't notice anything at all.
"Heh, look at all these foolish mortals staring at our menacing presence. They must notice our sheer aura of superiority and royalty."
Seth ignored him.
He shoved the doors open. The receptionist from before glanced up, her usual cheerful smile faltering.
"Oh, you made it back?" she said, voice too high-pitched to hide the unease. Her gaze flicked from Seth's blood-stained tunic to Valtheriz's unsettling stillness. "…and you brought a… friend."
Seth dropped the herb onto the counter. "Quest complete."
The receptionist cleared her throat, scribbling something down with one hand while the other gripped her quill a little too tightly. "Y-yes. I'll just… process that."
Valtheriz leaned in, his red eyes narrowing on her with predatory curiosity. She leaned back so fast her chair nearly tipped.
Seth sighed. "Great, terrifying the locals. Just what we needed."
When they finally left, Seth dragged Valtheriz straight to a tailor's. The shop smelled of mothballs and linen, a welcome change from blood and dust. Racks of clothes lined the walls, most practical, some gaudy.
"I need something normal," Seth muttered, pawing through shirts. "Something that doesn't scream 'cultist who just bathed in entrails.'"
Valtheriz sniffed disdainfully. "And I require robes befitting my station."
Seth tossed him a brown cloak. "Congratulations. You're now a peasant wizard."
At the counter, Seth slapped down a handful of gold coins from Valtheriz's vault. The tailor picked one up, squinted, and frowned.
"Where'd you get this?"
Seth frowned. "Why? It's gold, isn't it?"
The man turned the coin over like it was something diseased. "Foreign mint, eh? Either forged, foreign, or something simply grotesque. I don't take this filth." He shoved the coins back.
Seth blinked. "What do you mean grotesque? It's money!"
"Not here, it isn't."
Something inside Seth snapped. He slammed his hand down on the counter. "So let me get this straight. I bleed on a vampire altar, make a death pact, walk halfway across the countryside, and your problem is my money looks funny?"
The tailor flinched. "S-sir—"
"Do you even understand the week I've had!?"
Valtheriz tapped him on the shoulder. "You are causing a scene. Oh, and it was actually my money..."
Seth ignored him again.
By the time they stormed out, Seth was wearing a faded-out blue tunic with plain black pants, while Valtheriz, who was happily humming, simply wore a brown cloak over his already strange attire.
Back at the guild, Seth stared at the quest board. His head throbbed. "Fine," he muttered. "If the coins are useless, then we take more quests. Maybe now this pact can prove to be of some use."
That was when it happened.
His thumb burned. The faint mark from the altar pulsed, glowing faintly beneath his skin. Before his eyes, faint writing appeared in the air, translucent and shifting:
[Pact Ability Awakened: Blood-Bound Ledger]{Gain access to a HUD interface that can track quests, progress, and distribute different types of rewards. To manually enable the ability, simply say "Activate Blood-Bound Ledger"}
Seth whispered softly. "I-Is this a system? Is that what the bloody pact was!"
Valtheriz smirked. "At last, the bond begins to unfold,"
Seth replied in confusion. "You can see it too?"
"Ah, no. I just saw you looking at the floor with a startled expression while also whispering something to yourself, so I just assumed it had something to do with the pact we made."
Seth couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
Seth switched his attention back to the system and noticed different categories within it.
There was the first category, which was obviously the quest tracker, which was currently showing as "No quests taken." But then there was another category, which was called "Stat Profile".
Seth was just about to open the "Stat Profile" when the guild doors slammed open hard enough to rattle the hinges. Laughter and the clatter of boots filled the hall.
A group of five strode inside, armored and armed to the teeth. Their tabards were clean, polished to the point of shining, and their voices boomed as if they were putting on a play.
"Ah, smell that? The stench of mediocrity," the leader announced, sweeping his blond hair back with theatrical arrogance. His greatsword jutted from his back at a crooked angle, clearly more ornament than necessity.
The receptionist was visibly tensed. Around the guild, adventurers muttered, scowls spreading like wildfire. Seth caught more than one disgusted glance and it was surprisingly not aimed at him and his unruly companion, but at the newcomers.
Valtheriz, of course, smiled faintly. "Ah, peacocks strutting into the henhouse."
Seth stayed quiet.
The leader clapped a gauntleted hand on the counter, leaning over it as if he owned the place. "We'll take the B+ contract. The ogres near Blackmere. Three of them, correct?"
The receptionist nodded quickly, almost too quickly. "Y-yes, sir. Right here." She handed him the parchment with trembling hands.
The man snatched it and grinned back at his crew. "Excellent. Another day, another pile of monster corpses."
One of his companions, a short but broad-shouldered man with a mace, snorted. "Not to mention loot. We'll need some strong backs to haul it all back. Ogres don't exactly travel light."
The blond leader turned, scanning the room. His eyes gleamed with something predatory when they landed on Seth and Valtheriz. "Perfect." He pointed, smirking. "Those two. One looks like he's already half-dead, and the other… well, at least he's tall. You'll do for pack mules."
The guild hall went quiet.
The receptionist's face went pale. She tried to speak up, her voice cracking. "T-they're… they're new here. Maybe—"
"No, no, don't trouble yourself." The leader waved her off with an exaggerated flourish. "They'll come. Every guild needs its errand boys."
Seth's jaw tightened.
Valtheriz stepped forward first, cloak rustling, eyes glowing faintly in the guild's lantern light. "You presume much, mortal. Do you mistake royalty for baggage?"
The leader blinked, then laughed — a loud, grating bark that his companions echoed. "Royalty? What are you supposed to be, a circus act?"
Seth rubbed his temples. "Oh, gods. Here we go."
The Blood-Bound Ledger pulsed faintly at his thumb, as though reacting to the rising tension. A new notification flickered across his vision:
[Optional Quest: Defend your station. Rewards scale with risk.]
Seth's lips curled into a humorless grin. Maybe this stupid pact was good for something after all.
He straightened and met the blond leader's eyes. "Sorry, not interested. If you want someone to carry your spoils, I suggest hiring an actual mule. Maybe you could even relate to it better that way."
The guild hall erupted in stifled chuckles.
The leader's face flushed crimson. His grip tightened on his greatsword hilt. "What did you just say?"
Seth shrugged, spreading his hands. "I said you've got the personality of a donkey. Want me to draw you a picture?"
For a heartbeat, the silence was absolute.
Then the leader snarled, shoving back from the counter. "You've just volunteered for more than you can handle, rookie."
Valtheriz's smile widened, fangs flashing. "At last, some entertainment."