VRMMORPG: Rise Of The Blood Paragon

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Lionel bowed slightly toward the king. "I'm sorry that I was late."

As he finished speaking, the room suddenly brightened, and he could see everything clearly. The king, with his long black hair, was seated on a chair at the far end of the room. Crystal lamps were hung on the walls, illuminating the space, and unlike the chief wizard's room, no feast was laid out.

"I had the maid come to get you, but you weren't in your room," the king said. "Just back from the forest, and you're already finding new places to go. Where did you go?"

"Ermmm…"

'Cedric didn't say I can't tell, right? So, it's not going to be bad if I—'

He was still caught up in his thoughts when the king interrupted him, cutting them short.

"You're still thinking about what to say?" The king scoffed. "It shows that you're about to cook up a lie."

"No… that's not it," Lionel said quickly.

"Okay. How are you feeling?"

"Huh?" Lionel was dumbfounded. He wasn't sure he had heard correctly. The king asking about his health? He thought the king and the princes weren't on good terms, so what brought this up?

"I…" he started, his words trailing off as he looked at the king.

The king could be described as having the palest skin Lionel had seen since arriving there, very black silky hair, and piercing red eyes. He wasn't entirely sure about the eye color—they could have been purple when he had created his character afresh.

"You can't answer that either?" the king asked, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair.

"No… no… that's not it…" Lionel muttered, his words getting caught in his throat.

His gaze was fixated on the king, his mind scrambling to form a response, but then he felt a strong force gripping him, as though something was running through him.

'What's that?' he thought, his eyes staying focused on the king. Then he noticed something black, like shadows, swirling around the king.

"What is happening…" he muttered, his eyes dropping to his own body, watching as shadowy tendrils began to wrap around him.

"You…" the king's voice snapped Lionel's attention back to him, his eyes leaving his body momentarily.

Lionel watched the king keenly as his expression changed from neutrality to anger. His pale face flushed slightly red, his forehead creased, and his hands clenched into fists. Lionel could tell that the next words out of the king's mouth wouldn't bode well.

But that wasn't the case. Instead, the grip on Lionel tightened. He felt the shadowy tendrils—black, smoke-like ropes—wrapping around him more tightly.

His hands buckled away from his sides, his right hand clutching his chest as his frail heart struggled to beat. He felt himself gasping for air, his mouth heaving with effort.

His eyes watered as he looked toward the king, trying to form words.

But there was no need, as the strong hold on him suddenly relented.

"That is your punishment for breaking your promise," the king said.

"What do you mean?" Lionel struggled to ask, his hands wiping away the tears that had fallen from his eyes.

"What? Are you asking me that?" The king snickered. "Woah… I almost don't recognize you anymore, nephew."

"So, all your cries about wanting to die were just a ploy to make me send you out of the palace and then get free, right?"

'What is he saying? Did something happen between the prince and him?' Lionel thought, confused.

But the king continued relentlessly. "Please… Your Highness… just send me out of the palace. I just want this suffering to end…"

"Have you forgotten how you crawled in front of me, begging me to put an end to your sorrows, even if that end was death?" the king said.

'Oh… the prince really made a scene while in the palace. He begged to die? … I thought he was planning an escape… Was the begging part of it?' Lionel thought, trying to piece it all together.

"And now, suddenly, you're back from where I sent you—based on your request to die—back with no apparent worries, as mysterious as ever. I could even say I don't know who you are anymore… funny, isn't it?" The king said, his eyes twinkling as he took in Lionel's reaction.

"And now, you don't even understand me," the king added. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, he said, "That's all gone now. I have a new mission for you."

"Yes, Your Majesty, what is it?" Lionel asked, bowing slightly.

"I need to form a treaty with the Elfien kingdom, as there are things I want in abundance. This is your chance to be free. You will marry the princess of the Elfien kingdom," the king said. "The envoys of the kingdom are coming in two days, so I need you to prepare. After the envoys leave, you'll embark on your journey to their palace."

"Okay," Lionel said, then added, "I've heard every word you said, Your Majesty, but I don't understand some things."

"What are they? Let me hear them."

"I…" Lionel hesitated, then cautiously asked, "If I'm marrying the princess, why do I have to be sent to their kingdom? Aren't I the husband? Shouldn't my wife come here instead?"

"Ah…" The king snickered. "You made me laugh."

Sitting properly on his seat, he said, "You do realize this marriage is all a ploy, right? The real purpose is for you to be the Elfien kingdom's hostage while the treaty proceeds. I get what I need, and you stay there being a good husband."

"Oh…"

"Have I answered your questions?" the king asked.

Lionel nodded, then bowed once again before saying, "If that's all, I'll take my leave now."

Then he turned to leave. Lionel walked towards the door, his face bearing a smirk as he knew all too well what the king was planning—and what he himself was also planning. But as soon as he reached the door, his hand on the handle, the king's voice stopped him.

'Now, what again,' he thought, as he turned back to face the king.

"Is there anything else you need, Your Majesty?" He asked, looking at him keenly.

"You've not forgotten, have you?" the king said, his words sounding incoherent to Lionel, who couldn't decipher the meaning behind his cryptic statement.

"Just look at how confused you look. Come here, forward to me," the king commanded.

Lionel stood in place for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then finally went forward, closer, just as the king had requested.

Standing in front of the king, he saw a large, ornate cup materialize before him. Its deep crimson surface gleamed, the intricate patterns etched into the metal seeming to pulse with life. The king stretched it out toward him.

"Ermm..." Lionel muttered as his eyes raked over the king.

'What am I to do with a cup?' he thought.

"Take it!" the king shouted, and startled, Lionel couldn't help but grab the cup.

"In case your insomnia is still there, I'll fill you in on what to do," the king said.

"Okay."

"So, that's how you want to play it, right?" Insomnia?" The king uttered, nodding, before adding, "Well, slit your wrist and pour out every drop of blood in your vessel into this cup."

'Oh...that's what it's for. The king's blood slave. I almost forgot about this part.' Lionel thought, bringing his right hand closer to his left wrist.

He inspected his sharp nails and, with a swift slash, made a cut. Blood began to ooze out. Lionel positioned his hand over the cup, and his blood started to pour into the cup. To his surprise, he saw nothing in the cup.

His eyes rose to meet the king, questioning.

"It's an artifact meant to draw blood for storage and drinking. The blood is stored in the artifact unseen reservoir, which normal eyes can't perceive. Just do your part. The Crimson Chalice is more than it seems. It can hold the blood of over a thousand slaves."

"Oh...okay," Lionel nodded.

The transfer took longer than expected and by the time he was done, he couldn't feel his legs. The world around him seemed to turn red and he was sure his eyes had changed color.

"Your Majesty, if that's all, I'll take my leave," Lionel said.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.

His steps were quick, rounding corners, and before he knew it, he was back in his quarters. How he managed to find the way was a mystery, but one thing was clear—he needed to sleep.

As soon as Lionel entered his room, his legs carried him to his bed. He laid down straight away.