My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 104

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The moment a comrade fell to the opening salvo, they came screaming down with weapons drawn.
Crack!
Arkel’s cold magic swept across the room. A few attackers lost their footing on the thin frost creeping underfoot.
Then someone burst from the inner extraction room. He came like a massive fire bear in full charge.
Cesare. His long pike spun in a wide arc, cutting through enemies without hesitation.
“You little shits—fewer of you showed up than I thought?”
Cesare planted himself across the lobby entrance. The windows were sealed shut; there was nowhere to escape.
A trap. The subordinates realized it, yet they showed no particular alarm.
They reached into their pockets and drew out glass vials filled with blood.
Shatter!
Without hesitation, the subordinates drank. The vials they hurled exploded into shards across the floor.
Mana roiled through their bodies. Blood Energy equivalent to Tier 3 poured forth.
If there were only one or two, it would have been manageable—but there were twenty. Those bearing weapons felt vigor flood their limbs. The few mages among them accelerated their casting.
A dagger glanced past Arkel’s head. He dodged desperately, muttering to himself.
“Concentrated blood?”
It was far more potent than any ordinary magical recovery tonic. The subordinates’ bags held multiple blood vials.
Crimson Red’s strength lay in its supply lines. Blood—they had as much as they needed.
Boom!
Shields began materializing in front of the subordinates. Those who gained them showed no further hesitation. One of them dug in to charge.
The target was Gai. He dodged the blade and scrambled under the counter.
“Ah! Please, let’s talk this through!”
Crack!
The counter shattered in an instant. Gai barely rolled away as it collapsed around him.
“You drink human blood? How revolting you must be……!”
In that moment, powerful mana surged from Gai. The subordinate flinched back.
Only then did the others realize what they were seeing—an empty vial rolling at Gai’s feet.
Gai licked the blood droplets from his lips and laughed.
“For the record, I’m plenty revolting myself.”
Shriek!
White bones crawled from the counter drawers, from corners and crevices throughout the building. Skeletal rats—nothing but bone and malice—sank their teeth into their enemies.
And that wasn’t all. Frost spreading across the floor was already consuming the entire lobby.
“These monsters drank blood too!”
“Damn it, it’s an ambush. They’ve led us into a place built to their advantage……!”
Dein had not rented the Blood Bank merely to draw out enemies.
Rather than choosing where to fight, he had created it.
This place, where the enemy had walked in of their own accord, was already Balanus’s domain.
“How much blood does this organization stockpile?”
The blood flowing from Crimson Red had been diverted to Balanus instead. He had cut off their supply.
Of course, whether they could use that supply was another matter. Most creatures recoiled from consuming human blood.
But among Balanus’s members, “most” was rare.
“Ugh, bitter. Tastes like garbage.”
Jenia, who had drunk, was rampaging on the second floor. Her tentacles hung enemies like corpses from a gallows.
Arkel drank deeply with clear satisfaction. Laughter spilled out. At the sight, the enemies hesitated.
Cesare drove a kick into an opponent rushing toward the door. He held a blood vial in his other hand.
“Damn. Does everyone have to feel so… sickened by this…….”
He couldn’t bring himself to drink, and Cesare wavered. In that moment, Arkel snatched the vial and drained it. An eerie gaze turned toward him.
“The normal ones are useless.”
“Thanks. Abnormal one.”
Cesare gritted his teeth and swung his pike. He didn’t bother dodging the magic flying at him from behind.
Instead of drinking blood, he shed it as he pressed forward. He had no thought of hiding behind his brothers.
The pike point pierced the mage’s chest. Instead of a dying word, only confusion burst out.
“How are you fighting without drinking any…….”
Cesare furrowed his brow and wrenched his pike free.
“Shit, not drinking is what’s normal, you bastard.”
In the midst of the melee, Gai suddenly bolted down the inner corridor. The subordinates pressed close behind him.
“Necromancer! We have to kill him to end this!”
Gai threw himself into the room at the corridor’s end. The instant the subordinates followed down the passage.
Crack!
Screams and blood erupted. Thin steel wire embedded with glass shards lay stretched across the lower corridor.
Bella had set it up. Some had managed to dodge the trap. Reaching the end, he brought the axe down on the door.
The moment the door shattered, his subordinate’s head exploded alongside it.
—Bang!
Bella stood in the inner room, shotgun in hand.
Behind her, blood vials were stacked to the ceiling. Gai crouched behind them, grinning.
“You’re so reliable, sister. There’s no one like you.”
“Cut the flattery. Get back to work.”
The subordinates, catching sight of the blood vials, tried to force their way in. Each time, a gunshot rang out.
In the meantime, Gai picked up a needle—a thin one connected to a tube, which in turn ran into a large blood vial.
He jabbed the needle into his own arm. Blood from the glass container began to flow in, viscous and sluggish.
His veins bulged prominently. Gai laughed with effort.
“Fresh corpses really are difficult to control, aren’t they?”
While chaos erupted in the lobby, one of the fallen subordinates stirred.
He was a man who had just breathed his last. The corpse bolted from the Blood Bank.
It ran as though alive and conscious. The figure tore through the crowd, making straight for Crimson Red.
The members there stared in shock at their mutilated companion’s return.
“We’re under attack. We need reinforcements—”
The corpse collapsed. The subordinates turned in bewilderment to one man.
“Commander, what are your orders?”
“We mobilize support. We can’t afford to lose while engaged. You report the situation to the Blood Lord.”
The man they called commander gathered his subordinates and rushed away. Someone watched him depart.
It was Dein. He stood in a darkened alley.
The corpse messenger Gai had sent arrived. It meant there were no problems with his disciples.
‘Most of the organization has moved to the Silver Blood Bank. Only a handful remain inside Crimson Red, if any.’
Dein quickly circled back toward the rear entrance of Crimson Red. He was alone, without companions.
“You engage the subordinates. I will infiltrate Crimson Red alone.”
“Are you certain? It would seem safer if we all fought together.”
“If the Blood Lord senses trouble, he will flee. Should he move toward your position, I will pursue.”
Dein’s purpose was not to fight the Blood Lord. Surveillance—and if necessary, pursuit.
Such work was better done alone. Though admittedly, that was only half the reason.
He did not want to bring his disciples to this place. Five of them together could handle the subordinates safely enough.
He entered Crimson Red alone, footfalls silent.
No staff, no patrons—the building was as quiet as a tomb. A faint smell of blood hung in the air.
Moving deeper, he found a door in the floor. Stairs leading underground. He opened it slowly.
‘My disciples died in the basement.’
The Memory Stone flickered with images. His disciples, slaughtered beyond recognition. And himself, crouched among them.
All of it lay beneath these stairs.
Dein adjusted his grip on the sword and descended. The staircase was long. With each step, the air grew heavier.
One step.
‘Was I standing at the very back?’
Two steps.
‘What expressions did my disciples wear as they came down?’
Three steps……
The deeper he went, the stronger the metallic stench became. The hand that touched the wall came away damp.
Only after descending the second bend in the staircase did he begin to sense presences.
‘Dozens of them, but all in terrible condition.’
The breathing was shallow, tenuous. As he reached the bottom, the scene from the Memory Stone unfolded before him.
Underground prison—or rather, underground cages. Each was barely large enough for a single stray dog to enter.
Narrow cages were stacked against the walls in profusion, like the ramshackle structures of a slum.
Skeletal figures were crammed inside, bound and sacked, their eyes and voices sealed away.
Wooden signs hung in front of each cage.
“Special bloodline holder.”
“Magically-specialized bloodline. Harvest date: twelve days.”
“Physical enhancement bloodline. Collect blood for one week.”
Not people. Merchandise. Specialized merchandise at that.
‘They sorted through those who came to sell blood, keeping only those with special bloodlines.’
Dein saw towers of blood, people stacked like cordwood. The ‘Guardians’ claimed they protected the world.
‘Guardians who destroy cities and trade in human flesh.’
As disgust rose in his throat, faint voices drifted from deeper within. Dein pressed himself against the wall and advanced.
“Blood Lord, how shall we proceed from here?”
A space stacked with phlebotomy tools in place of our usual gathering spot. Two figures stood guard there, and between them was the one called the Blood Lord.
‘……That’s the Blood Lord?’

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————