Chapter 10 - Mindscape Training (1)

Carl returned home in a heartbeat, evading the stirred exorcists who got in motion after a slight shift of misfortune caused by his haunting 'old grandpa' that leaked out his wicked nature for the divine servants to sniff on it like hunting dogs.

Lucky for the duo, the young vampire had a sense of awareness and lost his tracks on the town, gaining some time, enough for him to return to his home's safety.

Breathless and heart pounding, Carl finally reached the safety of his home, a modest apartment tucked away in an unassuming street of the Old Town. He leaned against the door, chest heaving as he took a moment to catch his breath and steady his racing thoughts.

"Huh. Huh" (Breathing labored)

'That spooked me for sure. Thanks a lot, old man. You really had to butt in to say they were too young for wielding those Excalibur's?'

Nosferatu's response was dry and matter-of-fact. [How would I know they had Tracking Artifacts on them that react to Dark-Type Mana?]

Carl smirked at the retort, acknowledging the validity of Nosferatu's point.'Well, you have a point. Still, you've got to pay me up for causing trouble.'

His tone remained unchanged, dry as a desert. [I'll ignore this remark for the moment. If you want me to pay you, make me.]

Carl chuckled, knowing full well that Nosferatu had the upper hand in their playful exchanges. 'Nah, nah. That would be me playing your games. You want to torture me in the mindscape, I can smell it.'

Catching his breath, Carl calmed down, and suppressed most of his mana like Nosferatu taught him in their first Teaching Session, this would make it harder for the Exorcists and Vatican's Trackers to pin-point accurately his location.

Certainly, this encounter with Xenovia and Irina had left him on edge, he wasn't quite ready to interact with the Heroines of the story he was brought in as presumably one of the Extra-Villains.

Thinking about their characters, especially Xenovia's straight-to-business approach at conducting the Vatican's jobs, it became clear to him that he dodged a bullet there. While he had the memories of Krassius, having some general understanding of the Swordsmanship and other forms of combat the Vampires trained in, his first life was unassumingly that of an average jackass human.

While he would swing his fists at times on some drunk fucks, it wasn't to the point he could contend with people of the supernatural world.

'Yet, I dispatched those Vampire Guards rather quickly. They didn't even stand a chance against the powers of the Sacred Gear, and I did kill them myself by stabbing their hearts in cold fashion…'

Carl settled on the couch, and his calm, expressionless face morphed into a serious frown as he crossed his arms, contemplating out loud so even Nosferatu could perceive his thoughts. It wasn't those inner thoughts that he would rather avoid sharing with the old phantom.

[Are you pondering on how a fight between you and those Excalibur wielders would play out?]

'Something like that. I think I'm lacking a lot of combat experience. I'm aware that I have a lot of firepower at my disposal, but if you can't pull the trigger on that, I'll die a pitiful death like those cheap-ass villains.'

He continued along, sharing his own doubts, considering his situation from the lenses of his first life, instead of what he currently became, a Dhampir that required many Vampire Lords to be suppressed and imprisoned.

Carl was aware of what he was lacking, he knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down, as if the invisible dark cloud continued to loom over his head. This turn of events made him feel a bit depressed about his current state, since his previous life was of an average guy trying to get by life, and now?

He had the chance of standing on the top of the World, to walk among the small club of people that controlled Worldly Affairs from the shadows. It was only a matter of visualizing that process and passing the tests Life threw at him to challenge his resolution.

Nosferatu who listened quietly to Carl's worries, let out a sigh as if empathizing, understanding him, and with that in mind he told the youngster some 'Sagely' teachings.

[It's understandable to feel overwhelmed, Carl. But you've already proven yourself capable of facing great challenges.]

[Your survival instinct can only get you this much in life, and despite your lack of training, you can pose a threat to so many beings in this world. What you need to do right now, is to remain strong, ground yourself to reality, and continue with your training.]

'...'

[Train diligently, not half-assed as you've done so far. I bet that phone you've been messing around wouldn't be there to fight your fights. While, I understand you have your reasons to spend your time on the phone, as you mention it can make you a lot of money.]

[In the Supernatural World, Raw Power dwarfs Money. Money is only useful in the Human World.]

'What if I only want to live a quiet life?'

[They will not allow you. You who possess the powers of a Longinus, possess my lineage, will be thrown into a Fate reminiscent of mine. From their point of view, you'll become a chess piece too dangerous to be left alone.]

['You'll only be left hurting and betrayed. With the desire of destroying the World itself.']

Carl took a deep breath, listening to Nosferatu's words without rolling his eyes or dismissing them. He was aware that this 'old man' was investing a lot of attention and was trying to 'groom' him into something that he wasn't capable of becoming in his timeline.

His intentions were visible for his interpretations, and as they grew closer by interacting with each other, he felt thankful he had someone to talk about this deeply.

If not for his ethereal pairs of ears, he would have gone mad in a fervor for revenge that wouldn't lead him far in this second life.

Finding his resolve, letting it be strengthened by his words of encouragement, he eased up his frowned expression, flashing a confident smile. 'You know what, I'll be damned if I continue feeling sorry for myself.'

'I'm a Vampire for fucks sake, a supernatural being that could do whatever he pleases without fearing much consequences.'

[...]

'You're right, Nosferatu. I may not have all the answers, but I won't let fear hold me back. I'll face whatever challenges come my way, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect myself and those I care about.'

Carl took a moment to gather his resolve, feeling the weight of Nosferatu's words settling on his shoulders. He knew he couldn't let fear dictate his actions any longer. With a determined gleam in his eyes, he stood up from the couch, went into the shower to cool his head, and not be sluggish while Training directly under Nosferatu's watch.

Following the meditation method of hyperventilating while the cold water streamed down on his body.

The sensations of coldness gradually subsided, and Carl found himself slipping into a peaceful trance. The background noise of rushing water created a calming ambiance, allowing Carl to concentrate fully on his mental exercise.

He closed his eyes tightly, concentrating on the sensations coursing through his veins. His body began to relax, and he felt his muscles loosen up. The feeling of intense relaxation washed over him, as he prepared to dive deeper into his subconscious.

Carl focused intently on his breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling with purpose.

Each breath seemed to draw him further into a meditative state, where anxiety and fear melted away. He visualized a calm, serene landscape—a beach with golden sand stretching out as far as the eye could see, and crystal-clear waters lapping gently at the shore. In this tranquil space, he felt grounded and centered, ready to confront the challenges ahead.

As he continued to breathe deeply, Carl mentally prepared himself for the journey into his mindscape.

Carl emerged from the shower, feeling refreshed and invigorated. Droplets of water glistened on his skin as he stepped out into the cool air of his bathroom, a sense of clarity washing over him. With each towel-dry motion, he wiped away the remnants of doubt and uncertainty, replacing them with a renewed sense of purpose.

Settling down on the couch once again, he readied himself for the mystic journey to the depths of his mental world that was connected with his Sacred Gear.

'Ready whenever you're ready to summon me, mister.'

[It seems I don't have to worry too much about your mental health, child. Do as you've done last time. Activate your Sacred Gear, Carl.]

Nosferatu's voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, and unlike the first time when he was still awkward at activating the Sacred Gear, this time it was a smooth transition. Closing his eyes, he used his willpower to bring out the crimson pendant.

'Bloodbound Dominion. Activate.'

From the core of his heart, a crimson jewel extruded itself, emanating a profound energy that seemed to intertwine with the very essence of his vampiric nature. The jewel took on the shape of an intricately designed pendant mirroring the interior of a Vampiric Eye.

The pendant hung elegantly, suspended from the chain, and its dark crimson glow permeated the emptiness of the room. The light emitted by the pendant intensified, casting an otherworldly radiance that enveloped the entire space, while pulsating in cadence with his heartbeat.

Carl's body began to release a malevolent blood mana that made him wonder how long it would take the Exorcists to pick on this lead he just released outward.

'Drag me in the Mindscape, mister Nosferatu. We got to disperse this blood mana quickly.' requested Carl, with a bit of urgency in his tone.

The matured voice of the Count, didn't respond right away, as if also preparing himself for the next set of actions, until he urged him. [Focus your mind on the jewel, stare directly into the Eye of the Jewel. Don't resist any uncomfortable sensations you'll feel.]

Similar to his first attempts, he was proactive and stared intently in the Vampiric Eye of the pendant which flashed with an malevolent crimson light that matched with his own.

Feeling the detachment from reality, Carl braced himself, keeping his complaints to a minimum, and in the blink of an eye, he found himself returned inside the Throne Room of the Blood Castle.

'Whoa, no matter how many times I see this place, it brings that awe inside you.' Carl marveled at the spectacle before him, the ambient glow casting a regal radiance upon every facet of this mindscape.

Amidst the opulence of the throne room, the figure of Nosferatu in his middle-aged man visage, in his full set of gunmetal gray plate armor, made Carl wonder what this man had in store for him.

Studying him quietly, having yet to say something to Nosferatu, he began wondering about something silly that triggered a reaction from the Despot seated on his throne. 'I wonder when I'll get an armor like that one. It looks wicked, not going to lie. Quite handsome.'

"Have you calmed down from the journey to this Realm?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I didn't feel nauseated this time."

"Alright. For your awareness, we can share this space for one hour and thirty minutes. So, leave the pleasantries for later," responded Nosferatu, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. The glint in his eyes conveyed a silent command.

"Got you. Don't worry, at least in here, I'll not laze around. I don't have my phone to check on the stocks all day long. Ohh, and how come we got 30 minutes of extra time?"

"Your Mana Capacity has grown since you've awakened the Sacred Gear. Also, you have gained some control over your mana which lessened the strain I suffer when calling you here." the Count explained with his stoic demeanor on full display for Carl.

Carl nodded in understanding, it made sense that he could afford extra minutes in this Mindscape. He could sense the small changes, especially since drinking from Jeanne's blood that contained rich mana from her latent Sacred Gear.

For once, he was grateful that his efforts to hone his Mana Skills weren't thrown to the garbage, and he could afford some extra moments in here. This place was his magical Hyperbolic Chamber, where he could spend time together with Nosferatu, honing his skills and delving deeper into the mysteries of his lineage.

"Understood, let's make the most of our time then," Carl replied, determination shining in his eyes, he was ready to immerse in today's training session.

With a wave of his hand, Nosferatu gestured for Carl to approach, indicating that their training session was about to begin.

"Follow me, Carl. Don't get distracted by the words of the wraiths."

Nosferatu's commanding voice echoed through the Throne Room, while he proceeded to step out from the room, and take Carl to another wing of the Blood Castle, where the initial doubt about the voices of wraiths, he realized he shouldn't doubt much of Nosferatu's words.

[Such a tender soul! Approach me, I'll make you unstoppable.]

[Blood King, aren't you fearful of taking this kid of yours into our territory?]

[Kid! Turn your head in my direction. Tell me, has Zeus lost the Gigantomachy! ANSWER ME!]

[Forget those Greek losers! How are the Norse in Asgard doing? Ohh, Prince of Blood, share this news with an old ghost like myself.]

'...'

The wraiths that he saw had various shapes, some were of monstrous giants, while others had Dryad-like appearances as if taken out from a Fantasy Novel. Carl felt a shiver run down his spine.

He followed Nosferatu without speaking with those wraiths, since he felt that those were worse than the Lesser Devils he encountered inside the Library. Those beings were different, it gave him an uncomfortable vibe, but he steeled himself for whatever lay ahead.

'This should be one of his tests for me. To see how I fare against those ghosts he defeated in his past.'

'Phew, it is great that I did my meditation before entering this blasted place.'

As Carl and Nosferatu stepped out of the grand throne room of the Blood Castle, they entered a sprawling courtyard bathed in the crimson glow of the setting sun. The Training Grounds of the castle were shrouded in an eerie mist, tendrils of fog snaking along the ground like ethereal serpents.

The air was thick with the scent of blood, mingling with the metallic tang of sweat and exertion.

Shadows danced across the cobblestone paths, casting sinister shapes upon the ground. The atmosphere was charged with an undercurrent of anticipation, as warriors of all shapes and sizes honed their skills in preparation for battle.

Carl took in the ominous scenery around them, the mist swirling ominously, and the crimson glow casting sinister shadows across the courtyard. Yet, amidst the eerie ambiance, he felt a sense of anticipation building within him.

This was his domain, where he would unlock the full extent of his vampiric powers under Nosferatu's tutelage.

"This is where we will conduct your training," Nosferatu said, gesturing at the barren Training Ground. "Here, you will learn to harness your strength and master the arts of combat."

"Quite the setting we have here," Carl remarked, while trying to keep his composure the entire time, even joking a bit as he grasped the situation. "Feels like something out of a nightmare, but I suppose that's appropriate."

"So, what are we doing today? If we're here, I have the feeling it's not magic, right?"

"Indeed. To accommodate your increasing worries regarding your lack of combat experience. I decided to derail the progress of honing your Mana Control, which as you have noticed would allow us more time in the Bloodbound's Mindscape."

"Mhmm, thanks. Much appreciated gesture for looking after this weakling."

"Therefore, today, we will focus on honing your skills in both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat," Nosferatu began, his eyes locking onto Carl's with a piercing intensity.

"As a Vampire, you possess immense physical prowess and agility, but it is crucial that you learn to wield your strength with precision and control."

'Well, he's not wrong. All I need is to drill my inexistent techniques.'

Carl nodded, his expression determined as he prepared himself for the challenges ahead. He knew that mastering these combat techniques would be essential for his future confrontations with the Vampires chasing after him or the Exorcists breathing down his neck.

"Let us begin with swordsmanship," Nosferatu continued, gesturing towards a rack of gleaming weapons that lined around the Training Ground. "Choose a weapon that speaks to you, and we will begin."

Carl approached the rack, running his hand along the polished blades as he considered his options. After a moment of deliberation, he selected a longsword with a finely crafted hilt, its blade shimmering in the ambient crimson light.

With a weapon in hand, Carl turned back to face Nosferatu, ready to begin his training. The ancient vampire nodded in approval, a hint of pride in his gaze as he observed Carl's choice.

['His choice is not bad. For his current and future frame, a longsword would suit him better. Greatswords are also handful for a Vampire since the weight wouldn't be an detriment while wielding it.']

Nonetheless, for Carl, reading this middle-age man's expression became a challenge in itself, since he was stoic the entire time.

"What now, mister?"

"First, we will start with the basics," Nosferatu said, stepping forward to demonstrate the proper stance and grip. "Look closely, and root my movements in your mind."

Seeing Carl nod at him, while his crimson eyes got serious, he proceeded with the Basics of Swordsmanship.

"Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and hold the sword with a firm but flexible grip. Your movements should be fluid and controlled, allowing you to strike swiftly and decisively."

Carl watched Nosferatu demonstrate the basic strikes and footwork, carefully observing the finesse that the legendary vampire displayed. He knew that learning from such a powerful source would be invaluable towards honing his skills.

"Remember, the key to effective swordsmanship lies in timing and precision," Nosferatu instructed Carl. "Strike when your opponent is vulnerable, and retreat when you sense danger."

Carl nodded, absorbing the advice, knowing that a single slip-up could mean disaster in a real fight.

He mimicked Nosferatu's stance, gripping the longsword firmly but not rigidly. The weapon felt comfortable in his hands, as if it belonged there.

"Now, practice some basic cuts and thrusts," Nosferatu instructed, watching Carl's form closely. "Start slow, focusing on technique, and remember to maintain good posture."

Carl began experimenting with different swings and thrusts, moving cautiously at first, afraid of making a mistake. However, as he started to grow more comfortable with the sword, he began to swing and thrust faster, gaining confidence.

Nosferatu, ever vigilant, watched Carl's form and corrected him while pointing out potential weaknesses for the young vampire to exploit.

"Your attacks must be unpredictable," Nosferatu advised. "Switch between swift cuts and slower, feigned moves to catch your enemies off guard."

Carl nodded, absorbing the information, and began implementing these tactics into his practice. As he sliced through the humid air cutting through the misty tendrils surrounding him, Carl couldn't help but feel empowered.

The crimson glow of the setting sun painted the Training Ground crimson, casting eerie shadows across the cobblestone courtyard. He adjusted his grip on the longsword, feeling the reassuring weight of the weapon in his hands. The sharp edge of the blade reflected the dim light, appearing as a thin, glowing line.

"Good, Carl," Nosferatu praised, his gaze fixated on Carl's movements. "Now, try to mimic my style. I will initiate the attack, and you counter it."

Carl nodded, his senses heightened from the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He watched Nosferatu's fluid, graceful movements and tried to anticipate his next attack. Their surroundings seemed to fade away except for the two figures locked in battle, their swords clashing with an intensity that belied years of pent-up frustration.

Carl shifted his weight, adjusting his grip on the hilt as he prepared to defend himself. Nosferatu lunged forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Carl parried the blow, his reflexes kicking in as he blocked the incoming assault.

The clash of metal reverberated through the Training Ground, filling the air with the sonorous symphony of steel meeting steel.

"Excellent, Carl," Nosferatu complimented, his voice filled with admiration. "You're adapting well to my style. Now, attempt to predict my next move."

Carl nodded, his concentration intensifying as he studied Nosferatu's movements. The middle-aged vampire swung his sword again, this time aiming low.

Carl recognized the maneuver and moved to block it, his instincts screaming in warning. The tip of the blade brushed against his arm, leaving a stinging sensation behind. He cursed beneath his breath, but the thrill of the sparring match surged through him, fueling his determination.

"Come on, Carl, show me what you've got!" Nosferatu taunted, grinning wolfishly. His eyes smoldered with intensity, reflecting the crimson light cast by the dying sun. Carl could hear the soft whisperings of the wraiths, their whispers stirring unease.

Though Nosferatu remained unfazed, Carl's nerves tensed. He wondered if he'd become the target of their playful torments.

"No need to worry, boy," Nosferatu assured him, noticing Carl's growing discomfort at being watched as he got trashed down. "Ignore them, and focus on our task at hand."

Carl hesitated only briefly before returning his attention to the count. "Righto," he agreed, drawing the word out into a sassy retort.

He didn't want to let Nosferatu think he was easy prey. He needed to put up a front, even if it meant acting a bit cocky. "Don't look too worried about me, old man. Just because you're older doesn't mean you'll be stronger than me for long. I bet I'll be able to beat you in a couple of years."

Nosferatu looked at him blankly, his stoic demeanor slowly shifting to amusement. Before responding, the corners of his mouth twitched into a slight grin. "Oh, boy," he chuckled softly, his deep voice echoing around the courtyard.

"Age is but a number. All of those defeated foes that I've imprisoned inside the Domain, were ancient beings, far older than me." Nosferatu raised his sword, preparing for the next round. "Experience counts, Carl."

Carl smiled confidently, gripping his sword tighter. "Then, let me drain you of your knowledge, old man!"

Their swords clashed once more, sending sparks flying. The tension between them escalated, the air crackling with electricity. Carl pressed forward, testing Nosferatu's defenses. Each strike was met with a parry, the rhythm of their exchanges becoming a dance of skill and wits.

Carl, who initially felt awkward about wielding a sword, started having fun as he clashed swords with Nosferatu. The memories of Krassius, his experiences that were rooted down in his muscle memory created a path for Carl to follow.

'Swordplay is quite the blast. Now I understand why those people recommended fencing as a sport to destress.'

He knew his opponent had centuries of experience under his belt, but he refused to surrender to intimidation.

Instead, he channeled his inner resolve, letting the excitement of the duel propel him forward.

"Now, do you get it why?"

"Mhm, I see," Carl jeered, feigning nonchalance. "You're trying to psyche me out, huh? Well, guess what? I've played enough video games to know how to dodge a few swings. Dark Souls trained my reaction time, all for this moment."

Despite his playful banter, Carl knew he had to stay alert. Nosferatu's mastery of swordplay was evident, and he had to rise to the occasion.

He dodged, weaving deftly past Nosferatu's strikes, the metal humming as it slashed through the air. He couldn't help but admire the Count's skill, knowing he stood in the presence of a legend.

"Not bad, Carl," Nosferatu, a note of respect creasing his steely facade. "But you're not giving me enough to work with. Let's amp things up a notch."

Carl's eyes widened, and he paused to catch his breath, while the ancient vampire didn't show any signs of slowing down.

The air was thick with tension, the scent of sweat and spilled blood permeating the Training Ground. Nosferatu's blade whizzed past Carl's cheek, his flesh opening up seconds later, oozing blood, before regenerating at a rapid rate.

Carl exhaled sharply, his heart pounding in his chest. 'Fuck me, if he had targeted my neck, instead of the cheek, I would have been dead now…'

"Is that all you've got?" Nosferatu challenged, his voice dripping with sarcasm while reading his inner worries that made him pleased with Carl deep down. "I expected more from someone who claims to pursue World Domination. You'll not be able to subdue those High-Class Devil whores or Ultimate-Class with this little effort."

Carl scowled, the sting of Nosferatu's words burning him deep down. "Those words might have stirred me up if I was some perverted retard only interested in breasts and asses. You've picked on the wrong guy."

His grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles whitening. He wasn't about to let the Count underestimate him, not when they were so close to reaching their goals.

"Just wait and see," Carl muttered, swallowing his anger. "You'll soon regret messing with me."

He launched himself toward Nosferatu, his movements precise and deadly. With each strike, Carl grew more confident, his sword dancing through the air like a deadly ballet. He dodged Nosferatu's strikes like a pro gamer, leaving the Count impressed.

His grin widened with each successful maneuver, and his heart thumped in sync with theirs. The Training Ground buzzed with excitement, its walls humming with eager anticipation.

"That's more like it, Carl," Nosferatu acknowledged, his voice deep and resonant. "You're starting to come alive! Now, it feels like a workout for me too."

Their sparring heated up, their bodies drenched in sweat, muscles straining under the weight of their desire to win. The Training Ground held its breath, and the wraiths watched the Sparring between student and mentor.

Carl, feeling rejuvenated, replied cheerfully, "Great! I was hoping you'd say that. Let's see if you can handle my best shots."

Nosferatu smirked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Go ahead, Carl. Show me what you've got."

Carl took a deep breath, gathering his energy, and lunged forward, swinging his sword with all his might.

Nosferatu deflected the blow effortlessly, his blade singing through the air. The pace of the clash of swords between the two vampires was something a normal human wouldn't be capable of even conceiving, since in their exchanged blows, their movements were blurring into a whirlwind of flashing steel.

"Urgh!" Carl yelled, jumping backwards from a surprise deep cut that surfaced on his thigh.

"Don't grow careless or impatient, Carl," Nosferatu warned, "I am holding back, but don't expect mercy from the real enemy."

Carl grimaced, his wound healing quickly, even the deep cuts meant nothing to a Vampire. But the pain was still fresh, reminding him of the stakes involved in combat. This wasn't a video game that he used to enjoy in his spare time, but real combat.

And every action carried consequences. Yet Carl found himself enjoying the challenge presented by Nosferatu. The exhilaration he experienced during their sparring session was unparalleled; it surpassed even the most intense gaming scenarios he had previously encountered.

As they continued to engage in combat, Carl began to explore the vast array of possibilities within his powers. He discovered that by tapping into his primal instincts, he could harness a level of strength and agility that far exceeded anything he had experienced before.

It was akin to accessing an untapped reservoir of power that lay dormant within him until now. Carl reveled in the feeling of raw power coursing through his veins, his heart pounding with renewed vigor.

Nosferatu, sensing a change in Carl's demeanor, couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride in witnessing the younger vampire's progress. He had seen potential in Carl from the beginning, and it was gratifying to see that potential blossoming right before his eyes.

Though Carl was relatively inexperienced, he possessed an undeniable hunger for knowledge and an unwavering dedication to mastering his craft. While lazy at times, it was understandable since he got imprisoned for one year straight, confined to the walls of a coffin. Besides, it was in the Vampiric nature to be 'lazy'.

Nonetheless, Nosferatu sensed that Carl's raw talent, combined with his passion, would make him a formidable warrior in the future.

In order to continue fostering Carl's growth, Nosferatu proposed breaking from their training, without even feeling it himself, the young vampire trained without complaining much for one hour straight, absorbing the knowledge he was sharing like a sponge.

"Kid, you can take a break for today," Nosferatu declared, his voice reverberating through the sparring grounds. "I'm satisfied enough to give you time alone so you can contemplate what you've learned."

Carl's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, it's already time for me to go?" he asked, surprised by the sudden end to their training session.

"No, you have around 20 minutes inside the Mindscape," Nosferatu explained, his tone calm and measured. "Spend them as you wish."

An eager glint sparked in Carl's eyes as he considered his options. "Then, let's continue with the sword drills until my time is up," he suggested, eager to make the most of every moment spent honing his skills.

But Nosferatu shook his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Take a break," he insisted. "Working yourself to death would be meaningless. There's a natural order to acquiring knowledge and experience. The next time we're sparring, show me something interesting."

With a reluctant nod, Carl acquiesced to Nosferatu's wisdom. He knew that pushing himself beyond his limits would only lead to exhaustion and frustration, hindering his progress in the long run. So, with a deep breath, he allowed himself to relax and unwind, content in the knowledge that he had given his all during their training session.

As they left the sparring grounds, Nosferatu led Carl through winding hallways and grandiose chambers, showcasing all that the Castle of Blood had to offer. The castle's ancient architecture was breathtaking, with intricate carvings and detailed frescoes lining the walls.

As they ventured further into the labyrinthine halls of the Castle of Blood, Nosferatu proceeded to return back to his Throne Room, while leaving Carl to his own devices.

"Do you mind if I explore the library in my spare time?" Carl asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Go ahead," Nosferatu replied, his voice echoing in the quiet chamber leading to the Throne Room. "Oh, and if your eyes are picked by any of those lowly Devils, or if any of their offerings tempts you, here, take this Artifact. Use it to bind their Souls to you, and turn them servient to you."

Carl noticed how Nosferatu reached into the depths of his cloak, his hand disappearing into the shadows. With a flourish, he withdrew a tome bound in dark leather, its cover etched with intricate sigils that seemed to pulse with demonic energy.

Holding the Ancient Grimoire in his hands, he could sense the dense amount of demonic power reminiscent of what was seen and described in the story regarding Satan-Class Devils. Another mystery regarding Nosferatu unraveled for Carl who connected a dot, bringing this ancient vampire into the category of an Ultimate-Class Devil if not even a Satan-Class being.

"Could this be? The Grimoire you mentioned in the past when talking about the Devils?"

"Mhm."

"This is Ars Goetia," Nosferatu explained, his voice low and resonant. "The Lesser Key of Solomon. This Grimoire was written by King Solomon himself, and contains a part of his Authority over Demons and Devils granted to him by God."

Carl's eyes widened in astonishment as he beheld the ancient tome, its pages yellowed with age and crackling with dark energy. The cover seemed to ripple and shift, as if alive with some unseen force, and Carl could feel a chill run down his spine at the mere sight of it.

"King Solomon's authority over demons..." Carl murmured, his mind racing with possibilities. "And you're entrusting this to me?"

Nosferatu nodded solemnly, his expression unreadable. "It is a tool of great power, Carl. With it, you can command the forces of Hell itself to a limited extent. But be warned, such power comes with a heavy price. Your mana will be consumed in the process of making contracts with the Devils."

Carl's fingers traced the intricate sigils etched into the cover of the Ars Goetia, feeling the faint thrum of demonic energy beneath his touch, and yet, another question stirred in his mind.

"Mister, do you by chance? Also possess the Ring of Solomon?" Carl inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Carl's question hung in the air, casting a shadow over the solemn chamber as he awaited Nosferatu's response. The young vampire's curiosity was piqued, his mind racing with thoughts of the legendary Ring of Solomon and its fabled powers.

At the mention of the ring, Nosferatu's expression grew somber, a shadow passing over his ageless features. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, softened with a hint of sorrow as he turned to face Carl.

"The Ring of Solomon… I searched for it a lot in my youth when I was under the watch of the Ottomans, even entering the territory of the Mamluks Sultanate, going directly to Jerusalem for the missing clues." Nosferatu began, his voice low and resonant.

"Hah… I wish I would have gotten the Ring too. I wouldn't have been forced to kill so many Demons and Devils in the Great War, but instead use them as my cannon fodder."

"So? Is it just a myth? I doubt it, afterall, we have the Lesser Key in here."

"Unfortunately. The Ring has been lost to the annals of history."

Carl's brow furrowed in confusion. "Lost? But I thought you were in possession of such artifacts, considering your knowledge and influence."

Nosferatu shook his head slowly, his gaze distant as he recounted the tale. "Long ago, during the First War of Hegemony that ravaged the realms of Heaven, Earth, and Hell, the Ring of Solomon was shattered into fragments by the three great biblical factions, because King Solomon abused his authority to bind and control the Devils."

Carl's eyes widened in astonishment at the revelation. The idea of such a powerful artifact being destroyed was almost incomprehensible to him, but then he got reminded of Nosferatu's story, and how he got ganked by the three factions in the Great War. "I see, King Solomon received the same treatment as you, mister."

'I should thread carefully when I get in the center of attention. There's many slimy characters that wouldn't mind backstabbing me.'

"..."

"And, what was the fate of the ring? I mean, you can't just destroy a Godly Artifact just because someone abused its powers. Wait... could it be? Is the Ring by chance a Sacred Gear?"

"You're quite the sharp kid. You've figured out the truth with those many leads, while Scholars of my time spent their whole life trying to uncover this truth. Similar to our Bloodbound Dominion, the Ring used by Solomon was also a Longinus, among the first creations of God."

"Its true name is [Ring of Authority]. To never allow the same fate to happen ever again to the Devils, a pact was made between those bastards, to 'Delete' the Ring from the Sacred Gear System of God. They extracted the Ring from Solomon, and unable to destroy something created by God in his Prime, they fragmented it."

"The remnants of the ring were scattered across the realms, lost to time and memory," Nosferatu continued, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Many have searched for the fragments in vain, hoping to harness their power once more. But to no avail."

As the weight of Nosferatu's words settled on Carl's shoulders, he realized the gravity of the situation, and the opportunity that could land in his hands, as long he figured out more about this Godly Artifact. Determined to uncover more of this Mindscape's secrets, he ventures inside the 'Bibliotheca Corviniana'

'Should I interrogate some of those Devils about the Ring? No, let's not give them reasons to get rebellious and perceive this as a weakness of mine. Well, while it doesn't affect me much not having another Sacred Gear, I'll also not die from not having it.'

Stepping forward, entering the expansive library once more, and just as he made his presence felt to the Evil 'Spirits', various leather-bound books sprung out from their shelves, later on beginning their Ritual of Charming the young man who didn't know better from their perspective.

Sensing his solitude, the Devils saw an opportunity to exploit what they perceived as a weakness, hoping to sway him with their enticing offers.

[Our darling has returned. Have you considered my offering to you, Blood Prince? I'll offer the whole Human World to you if you release my seal.]

[Don't listen to that wench, Prince. Release my Seal, and I'll empower you with my Demonic Power. I'll make you the King of Kings.]

[Child of Blood, if you release me, I'll teach you my Demonic Magic.]

Carl stood alone amidst the towering shelves of the library, while the Lesser Devils twisting and shifting in anticipation, awaiting a response from him. The voices of the trapped Devils echoed through the chamber, their words dripping with honeyed promises and false flattery.

[Look at you, all alone and vulnerable. What a perfect opportunity for us to strike a deal.]

[Release us, and we will grant you power beyond your wildest dreams. You could rule over kingdoms, bend nations to your will.]

[Why waste away in the shadows when you could stand at the pinnacle of power and glory? Release us, and we will make you a king among men.]

Their attempts at enticing were left on a deaf ear, as Carl remained unmoved by their persuasive words. His expression was impassive as he listened to their offers, and he knew better than to trust their empty promises.

"You underestimate me. What you're offering me is becoming what? Ruler of the Human World? I can achieve that in a couple of years if I put my heart into it. But, can any of you make me a Satan?"

The Devils faltered for a moment, taken aback by Carl's defiant tone. They had expected him to crumble under their pressure, but instead, they found themselves faced with a formidable adversary.

"Now that's strange. Why have you guys turned all quiet? Aren't you Devils? If I release you, I want an equal exchange of benefits. Make me the Satan of Hell."

Turning around, noticing how the Lesser Devils didn't speak up, he called out another name he memorized from the previous visit in the Library. "Laranje, aren't you calling out to me again? This time, I'm ready to release you, but can you offer me what I desire?"

[My Prince, I can't promise that I will achieve this desire. Instead, I can help you learn my Leranje House Magic, which would prove helpful in your path to achieving your goals.] called out a seductive voice

"Not convinced enough." remarked Carl, as he showed Ars Goetia to Laranje who was bound to that Grimoire she used as a Vessel to communicate with him.

[In addition, I'll make sure the House of Leranje will reward you generously. I will write a Contract with you, as a High-Class Devil with a Noble Lineage. This will be enough to prove my sincerity.]

Laranje's voice, smooth as silk, resonated through the chamber, tempting Carl with promises of power and rewards. The offer was enticing, no doubt, but Carl remained steadfast in his resolve. He scrutinized Laranje's words carefully, weighing the potential benefits against the risks.

"Hmm, Leranje House Magic and a noble lineage, you say? It's certainly tempting, but forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced," Carl replied, his tone measured. "I've seen enough to know that deals with Devils often come with hidden strings attached. What assurance do I have that your offer won't backfire on me?"

Laranje's response was immediate, her voice oozing with confidence and persuasion. [My Prince, I understand your hesitation, but I assure you, my intentions are sincere. I will bind myself to a contract with you, sealing our agreement with blood and magic. With the power of Leranje House behind you, you will ascend to greatness, and together, we will achieve untold heights of power and glory.]

Carl's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered Laranje's proposal. The allure of power was undeniable, but he knew better than to trust the words of a Devil without careful consideration. He glanced down at the Ars Goetia in his hand, pondering his next move.

"Very well, Laranje. I will consider your offer," Carl finally conceded, his voice firm. "But know this, I will not be swayed by empty promises. Show me proof of your sincerity, and perhaps then we can discuss terms."