Chapter 161: The Red Coffin
The first guard reached the ridge with his sword already drawn.
He was not careless. His boots moved slowly over the loose stones, and his eyes searched every shadow before he stepped into it. Two more men climbed behind him, one holding a short spear and the other holding a small round mirror covered in faint runes. The mirror gave off a weak red shine as he turned it toward the rocks.
Lucard kept Elowen pressed behind the black stone.
His palm still covered her mouth. She did not fight him. Her whole body was stiff with fear, but she had learned enough not to move. That was good. Fear could be useful if it made a person quiet.
The blood circle on the rock remained flat and thin. It did not shine. It did not breathe. It only spread a weak layer of false stillness over them. Lucard had made it with Blood Concealment and a small part of the cave stalker’s blind-sense trace. To the eyes, they were only shadows. To weak sensing magic, they were stone, old dust, and dead ground.
The man with the mirror came closer.
The red shine moved over the rock in front of Lucard’s face.
Elowen’s breath trembled under his hand.
Lucard leaned closer to her ear and whispered so softly that the sound barely existed. "Stop breathing for three heartbeats."
She obeyed.
One.
Two.
Three.
The mirror moved past them.
The man frowned. "There was something here."
The sword guard looked around. "Animal?"
"Maybe."
From below, the masked woman’s voice reached them clearly. "Do not say maybe. Look properly."
The men straightened at once.
The man with the mirror climbed another step. Now he stood less than five paces away. If he turned fully and walked around the stone, he would see them. Lucard watched the man’s throat. The pulse was quick but not panicked. He was trained enough to be useful and weak enough to die quietly.
Lucard did not kill him.
Not yet.
A corpse on the ridge would make the people below look up harder. A missing searcher would do the same. Better to send their eyes elsewhere.
Lucard moved one finger against the stone.
A thin blood thread crawled away from him under the dust. It slipped between cracks, crossed three stones, and entered a dead lizard body lying near a thorn bush farther down the slope. The body was dry and old, but there was enough rotten moisture inside it to move.
Lucard pulled.
The dead lizard twitched under the bush.
The spear guard heard it first. He turned sharply. "There."
The sword guard moved toward the sound. The man with the mirror followed and pointed the red shine at the bush. Lucard pulled again. The dead lizard rolled out from under the thorns and dropped down the slope.
Loose stones followed it.
The guards relaxed slightly.
"Rock lizard," one of them called down. "Dead one. Something disturbed it."
The masked woman looked up from the pit. Her half-covered face showed no trust. "Search higher."
The men obeyed, but their attention had shifted. They climbed past Lucard and Elowen, moving toward the higher ridge. When their boots had passed, Lucard slowly removed his hand from Elowen’s mouth.
She did not speak.
Below, the work around the Blood Pit continued.
The mages had changed formation. Instead of one large circle, they formed three smaller circles around the red liquid. Each circle held a different pressure. One pushed against the surface of the pit. One held the black chain steady. One burned away the red liquid whenever it climbed too high.
The masked woman stood between the second and third circles.
A worker dragged the wounded man away from the pit. His missing leg had been sealed with rough magic, but his face looked like wax. Nobody looked at him for long. He had become a cost, not a person.
Elowen saw it and lowered her eyes.
Lucard watched her reaction from the corner of his vision. She had grown up in a noble house, but she had not truly seen how nobles spent lives like coins. Her father had shown her one side of that truth. Velkhur was showing her another.
A mage near the chain shouted, "Lady Maera, the coffin is heavier than before."
So the masked woman had a name.
Maera.
She raised her hand. "Increase the anchor pressure."
"We are already near the limit."
"Then use the prisoners."
The mage hesitated. "My lady, the prisoners were meant for the second stage."
Maera turned her head slowly.
The mage lowered his eyes at once. "Yes, my lady."
Two guards walked to a covered wagon near the rocks. They pulled back the cloth. Inside were several bound people with dirty faces and gagged mouths. Farmers, hunters, and perhaps travelers. Their clothes were not the same, which meant they had likely been taken from different places.
Elowen’s fingers curled against the stone.
Lucard did not need to cover her mouth again. She understood now.
The guards dragged two prisoners from the wagon and forced them near the circle. One was a middle-aged man. The other looked barely older than Elowen. Both struggled, but their hands were tied behind their backs.
A mage cut their palms and pressed them against two dark metal stakes.
The stakes drank their blood.
Lines of red light moved from the stakes into the ground and then into the chain. The prisoners screamed through their gags. Their bodies shook as the magic pulled blood faster than a wound should allow.
Elowen shut her eyes.
Lucard kept his open.
He did not feel pity. He felt interested. Very interested.
The magic was ugly, wasteful, and crude, but the principle was familiar. Blood as fuel. Blood as lock. Blood as payment for something sealed. These lower world mages did not understand the deeper art. They were using blood like firewood. Still, even firewood could warm a room if enough was burned.
The chain tightened.
The red liquid in the Blood Pit bulged upward.
This time, the coffin rose higher.
It broke the surface slowly, covered in thick dark red slime. It was longer than a man and wide enough to hold an armored body. The material looked like blood crystals, but not pure. Black vein lines covered it from end to end. Some lines pulsed softly. Others were cracked and dead. At the center of the lid was a mark shaped like a closed eye surrounded by thorn-like rings.
Lucard’s blood became still for one breath.
The mark was not from this kingdom.
It was not from any ordinary lower world tradition.
A system message appeared inside his mind.
[Unknown Blood Relic Detected.
Possible Category: Sealed Blood Vessel.
Blood Art Similarity: Low-level imitation of higher blood preservation arts.
Danger Level: Uncertain.
Recommendation: Do not touch before further observation.]
Lucard almost smiled.
The system had become cautious.
That meant the coffin was useful enough to be dangerous.
Maera stepped closer to the edge. Her dark red flame burned brighter in her palm. "Keep it above the surface."
The mages strained.
The two prisoners collapsed to their knees, their palms still stuck to the stakes. Their faces thinned quickly. The girl prisoner’s eyes rolled back first. The middle-aged man lasted a little longer, then slumped forward.
The stakes stopped glowing only after both bodies had given almost everything.
Elowen whispered so softly that only Lucard could hear, "Why?"
Lucard answered just as softly. "Because it works."
She looked at him with pain and disgust.
He did not look back at her. "Do not confuse explanation with approval."
That quieted her, though it did not comfort her.
Below, four workers hooked side chains around the coffin. The red liquid fought them. It climbed the hooks, hissed against their gloves, and tried to enter through every gap. One worker lost two fingers before pulling back. Maera did not even turn her head toward his scream.
She placed her flame against the coffin lid.
The black vein lines reacted.
A low sound spread through the hollow.
It was not a voice, but it felt close to one. The sound pressed against the ears and entered the chest. Elowen swayed. Lucard caught the back of her cloak before she slipped against the stone.
Inside his heart, the unnamed blood bug shook. It was afraid.
That interested Lucard even more.
The creature living inside his blood chamber had not feared cave stalkers, unicorn blood, or Aldren’s magic. Yet the sound from the coffin made it curl into itself like a worm hiding from a bird.
Lucard sent a command inward.
"Still."
The blood bug obeyed, but the fear did not vanish.
Maera’s flame spread across the coffin lid in thin red lines. She was not opening it. She was testing the mark. The closed eye symbol glowed faintly, then faded.
One of the mages looked nervous. "My lady, the seal is awake."
"I can see that."
"If Lord Garrick wanted the coffin unopened, we should not continue here."