Twenty-Six: Our Ancestors Were Once Wealthy

Typhon furiously slashed through the vast wheat field, sending poisonous stalks flying in every direction. She roared, "Longinus! Go after him! You must catch him!"

I told her I had no idea which direction he had fled, and even if I did, I would be powerless against Ambroza.

Typhon shouted, "Then search here! See if there are any clues!"

Chris added, "He is at least a fifth-generation vampire elder; be careful of traps he might have set."

Mask discovered a severed tongue amidst the wreckage of the farmhouse, surrounded by scattered, mangled organs—it was truly impressive that he could find such a small thing. But the moment the tongue was placed before us, we knew something was terribly wrong with it. It exuded a foul, overwhelming stench—the stench of death—that simultaneously repelled and beckoned us.

Typhon remarked, "This is a necromantic artifact, but I wonder what its purpose is?"

Suddenly, Mask swallowed the tongue. My stomach churned at the sight, but the others kept up a facade of composure, so I, too, forced myself to remain calm.

A cold, icy light flared in Mask's eyes. He shrieked, "Find Osmo! Osmo will sell me the Seal Stone! He only sells the Seal Stone to the highest bidder!"

Typhon asked, "Who is Osmo?"

Mask replied, "A trapped demon!" As he spoke, he began to convulse, foaming at the mouth. Chris commanded, "Hold him down! Pull out his tongue!"

Waste-Bell and I pinned Mask down. I reached out and grabbed his extended, elongated tongue; it was slick and slimy, and I felt I was on the verge of vomiting.

Nana’s sword flashed, cleanly and precisely severing the artifact. Mask spat out a mouthful of blood, and I promptly vomited my dinner all over the wheat field.

Typhon patted Mask and said, "Are you alright? I can feed you some vampire blood; it will heal you in an instant."

I’m having a rough enough time as it is; why doesn't she show some concern for me? My dinner went to waste.

Mask sighed, struggling to sit up as he said, "I am fine."

Typhon asked, "Who was speaking through that tongue just now?"

Mask said, "It was the guardian buried here, the one watching over the Seal Stone."

Typhon asked, "Is it a spirit?"

Mask nodded, but I corrected him, saying, "It’s merely lingering brain waves." I am a scientific supremacist, after all.

Typhon exchanged a look of relief with Nana and Chris. Typhon said, "This is good news. We know where another Seal Stone is, and since Ambroza was in such a rush to escape that he left this artifact behind, he doesn't know the location of that stone."

Chris nodded. "We just need to ensure he doesn't get his hands on the Seal Stone. Typhon, you don't actually want to become the god Augustus was pursuing, do you?"

Typhon laughed, "I don't even know what that god is, and I suspect Augustus was insane. But I cannot risk letting Ambroza succeed, so we must at least obtain one Seal Stone."

Chris said, "But the stone itself is a phantom; we cannot touch it. How are we to obtain it?"

I suggested, "It’s like the statue of the goddess Iex; perhaps I can touch this thing using the touch of Lasombra."

Typhon clapped her hands. "Worth a try! Mask, do you know where Osmo is?"

Mask answered that he did.

Typhon asked, "How far?"

Mask said, "If all goes well, it’s at least a three-day drive."

Typhon sighed. She closed her eyes for a moment, and a large, half-meter-tall field mouse burrowed out of the earth. She said, "Find the Charon Industries rangers and notify them that we will return in eight days. Also, bring a ranger named Wen Ling to see me, as quickly as possible!"

Her blood dripped into the field mouse, and it instantly grew larger than a human. Under my astonished gaze, it sprinted away.

Nana laughed, "Since when did you learn how to use the Blood of the Beast?"

Typhon replied, "You learn as you live." She took out two bags of blood, keeping one and giving the other to Chris. Sigh, I had thought she might drink my blood, but it seems she doesn't need to... That is a relief, truly. I dodged a bullet—how fortunate, how very fortunate... But why am I sighing? Deep down, do I actually crave being bitten by her? Impossible. A man of my self-respect would never have such thoughts.

We waited on the spot, hoping Ambroza would return and walk into our trap, but he did not appear by dawn. Chris’s sword hand was injured, but she healed herself with vampire blood.

During the wait, Typhon looked at Waste-Bell and asked, "Are you one of the legendary walking corpses?"

Waste-Bell replied coldly, "Yes, my lady."

Typhon said, "I have heard of your kind. You are rarer than vampires, and even less welcome."

Waste-Bell sighed, "We are indeed universally despised."

Typhon said, "But you can restrain Ambroza’s necromancy. His 'Touch of Death' can kill even vampires, yet it has no effect on you."

Waste-Bell said, "Perhaps. His arts are merely clumsy imitations of death, while I have lived under the curse of death itself."

Typhon said, "Excellent. Ambroza would never guess that we have a special weapon to deal with him. He has no way to handle you."

Lamia asked, "Lady Typhon, could you tell us the history behind Augustus, Ambroza, and Duke Norris?"

Typhon looked at the night sky, calculating the time until dawn, and nodded. "That is a very long story. Before the end of the world, I held great power among the vampires. Through a series of wars and conspiracies, I gradually united the factions, forming a close-knit group with the intention of establishing a nation where vampires and humans could coexist. We named it 'Utopia'."

Chris remarked, "Similar utopias have existed before, and they all perished. Carthage, Rome, Constantinople... Typhon, I’ve always felt that your wish back then was a bit naive."

Typhon said, "It was a bit naive, but at the time, I had reason and confidence that I could complete the task. The greatest obstacle before me was this Augustus Giovanni. He claimed to be a third-generation vampire and held the highest status in Utopia."

According to my knowledge of the long, fabricated history of the vampires: the first generation was Cain, the progenitor of all vampires and son of Adam. The second generation were the three unfortunate souls—Enoch, Zillah, and Irad. The third generation killed their elders and spread the curse of blood across the world. Thus, the third-generation vampires are called the Antediluvians, the origin gods worshipped by modern vampires in their shrines.

Of course, I consider all these legends to be nonsense, as I am an atheist at heart, and this book falls under the science fiction genre. Even if Saint Longinus were to manifest, and even with the world filled with demonic anomalies, my conviction remains unshaken.

Lamia asked again, "If he was an Antediluvian, how could you possibly have killed him?"

Typhon said, "I was incredibly powerful that year—powerful in a way that felt like a dream. And Giovanni was a fraud. While he was formidable, he wasn't as strong as he boasted. He might have been a fourth-generation vampire, but he was certainly not an Antediluvian.

"Augustus proclaimed his 'grand plan' to the world, but in reality, he was merely using it to consolidate power and eliminate dissenters. He never believed Utopia could be realized. Therefore, if I wanted to push forward with Utopia, I had to kill him first.

"I used a stratagem: I pretended to be weak. Augustus had always viewed me as a thorn in his side and decided to strike first. But he didn't know I had anticipated his every move. He thought he had driven me into a corner, but in fact, he walked right into my ambush.

"With the help of some allies, I killed him. Moreover, I had ample evidence that he had been harboring malice toward me first. I logically took control of all the resources and wealth of the Utopia project. As Ambroza said, I had effectively become the Queen of the Vampires."

Lamia asked, "And then came the catastrophe?"

Chris shook her head with a sigh. Typhon continued, "The situation became critical. Strange disasters occurred one after another: plagues of insects, pestilences, earthquakes, and tsunamis. My friends across the world went missing or were killed, and the Utopia project suffered severe setbacks. Red meteors appeared in the sky, and the vampire prophets foretold that Cain and Lilith would awaken. They would judge all vampires in the world like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and all who were guilty would be consumed."

I heard Mask’s stomach growl. I wasn't hungry; why was he?

Typhon added, "Every vampire has tasted human blood; every one of us is guilty. The human apocalypse might not have arrived, but the vampire one was clearly imminent, just as the ancient books foretold. I couldn't risk it, so I used some embers to build a coffin, hid inside, and entered a long slumber. I wasn't the only one; many vampires did the same."

Chris said, "I did as well."

Typhon said, "A century later, I awoke and met with Missouri and Norris at the ruins of the Utopia San Francisco branch. We discovered the secret records of the Charon Corporation, learned of the 'Black Coffin,' found it, and occupied it under the guise of being Charon shareholders.

"Norris Giovanni was the son of Augustus Giovanni. He was the first of the Giovanni family to defect to me. If not for him, I could never have successfully taken out Augustus and claimed his inheritance. His abilities might not be exceptional, but he is a friend I can trust.

"Since coming to the Black Coffin, he has discovered even more of Augustus's secrets—the secrets of the Giovanni family. It is an incredibly vast family, acting as the puppet master for entire nations, even controlling the American Mafia. Augustus spent vast fortunes searching for a way to become a 'god'."

Chris said, "They are a group of necromancers studying the dead, yet they are also a massive financial empire. It’s all very bizarre."

Typhon said, "They believe that we vampires are inherently closer to the dead. We have no heartbeat; we are as cold as the dead—that is the best evidence. By studying death, they hope to further perfect themselves, reaching the realm of gods capable of manipulating the world and altering reality—the realm of God himself.

"Within this family, there was a genius—Augustus’s eldest son. I now know his name is Ambroza. He was far more intelligent and fanatical than Augustus. Norris said he went missing hundreds of years ago, and even Augustus feared this rebellious, unpredictable son.

"Augustus was always afraid of something, which kept him restless and gave me the opportunity. Perhaps what he feared was indeed Ambroza—fearing that he had truly come close to the mysteries of the God of Death."