Chapter 121: 116: The New Blood Receiver

Another year passed, and the Fischer family suddenly found themselves scorned by many nobles of the East Coast. The reasons were complex.

The initial stages of the naval war were not going well. The White Sea was dotted with thousands of islands, far too many to control, while the Cyart people’s alchemical battle barques were too few in number.

The Cyart’s alchemical Type-7 battle barque, known for its low hull, square sails, and cannons mounted on both sides, was celebrated in the Eastern Four Kingdoms for its alchemy-enhanced power and defensive capabilities, as well as its remarkable mobility and sturdy build.

Its downside was that the constant use of large alchemical magic arrays required an immense amount of resources, which considerably increased the construction cost, resulting in a scant number of battle barques the Cyart could produce.

The Rhea People’s naval skills were abysmal; the Cyart had once heavily defeated them through naval superiority, and the Rhea even called the alchemical Type-7 battle barques “Devil’s Ships.”

However, the tables completely turned during the war between the Cyart and the Sea God Cult.

Tens of thousands of the Sea God Cult’s followers lived scattered across over a thousand islands. Whenever an enemy approached, they would promptly escape into the sea with the aid of the sea tribe, avoiding direct confrontation with the Cyart army.

And when the Cyart forces were exhausted from their time at sea, the Sea God Cult would command the sea tribe to attack directly from the seabed, which resulted in heavy casualties for the Cyart in the early stages of the war.

Even as the Tempest Bishop, abandoning his previous apathy, rushed back and forth above the waves, launching strike after strike, he still couldn’t annihilate the Sea God Cult, which fought using the terrain to their advantage.

There had always been an important rumor that a new Monarch Level power had emerged within the Sea God Cult, so the Tempest Church and the Cyart nobility had been on guard for a long time.

But after two whole years of war, no one had encountered any Monarch Level adversaries, and it was eventually dismissed as nothing more than a deliberate rumor spread by the Sea God Cult.

The reason the Fischer family became the target of the disdain from numerous nobles, of course, was because, while many noble families suffered casualties, they stayed comfortably behind everyone else, making a fortune.

During the two years of war, Fischer family factories operated almost nonstop day and night. Workers took shifts, with invigorating food and medicines for healing wounds delivered to the front lines every week.

The Garcia family and the Eagle clan constantly slandered and attacked the Lion clan in various situations, and the Fischer family had recently become their frequent target.

While everyone was fighting desperately on the front lines every day against the hideous sea tribe from the depths, the Fischer family, like a money-grabbing dog under the sick lion, kept draining the blood of the Cyart people!

To be honest, Byrne found such comments to be nonsensical; the military supplies produced by the Fischer family never cut corners and were always made responsibly.

Moreover, logistics were crucial in warfare. Although they only received a small portion of the military supply orders, the continuous production of military supplies by the Fischer family’s factories could still significantly impact the front lines if it were disrupted.

However, the nobles who fought together on the battlefield naturally felt more empathy with each other. Public opinion quickly turned, leading the Fischer family to be scorned by the upper circles of the East Coast, even earning nicknames like “vampires” and “cowardly fishermen.”

Just a short while ago, a viscount openly brought out a live fish at a banquet, hoping that “fisherman” Byrne could process it on the spot, causing laughter to erupt from the crowd.

Byrne, now thirty-one, didn’t get angry. Making money came at a cost. Let them curse; after all, those who dared to insult him to his face were all enemies of the Lion clan and couldn’t possibly be friendly with the Fischer family.

And while they laughed merrily now, their appearance when the sea tribe breached the hull of their ships at sea was indeed quite pitiful.

Finally, Yeager, Savoie, Inna, and Mormir, the four of them, returned from the military academy in Fein City.

Just as Irene had said early on, they were bound to return to the Fischer family.

Because before sending them away, Fischer had already tested their loyalty. If they were the sort who felt no sense of belonging to the family, they would have never been chosen in the first place.

Byrne and the others were not fools, so how could they possibly waste money and connections nurturing someone who wouldn’t belong to the family?

Therefore, the new Lost Ritual was about to start, and the Fischer family would soon have new Blood Receivers.

—-

In Irene’s bedroom at the Fischer Manor.

Dressed in black, Irene sat calmly on the bed, looking at her younger brother Chris, who stood in front of her, already taller than herself and just a bit shorter than Byrne.

She reached out and took his hand.

“What are you really thinking, Chris?” she asked.

“…”

Chris remained silent. Irene knew he was the strong, silent type and didn’t mind. Instead, she continued speaking.

“You’re sixteen now, you’ve had your coming-of-age ceremony. Even though I’ve never talked to you about this before, it’s something we must discuss now.”

She hesitated for a moment before delicately saying:

“Do you like Vanessa? How much do you like her? Is it that you want to be with her no matter what, or is there room for compromise?”

The phrase “room for compromise” held many nuances, the understanding of which was left to the judgment of each individual’s heart.

Chris remained silent, his gaze serene as he continued to look at his sister, the one who cherished him most.

“…”

Irene fell into silence for a while before she couldn’t help but continue her advice.

“Chris, I hope you can have a child in the next two years. You know the situation our family is in; every additional child is really important.”

“Byrne and Margaret’s situation has been particularly worrying to me. He feels genuine, deep-seated guilt and would almost compensate her for everything except family interests. He certainly wouldn’t force Margaret to give birth again.”

“In fact, I feel very sorry for Margaret too…”

Sighing, Irene went on:

“And I know you too well to understand that when it comes to emotions, you’re a thousand times more stubborn than Byrne and me, sigh.”

“…”

The handsome Chris still didn’t respond, maintaining his silence.

The atmosphere grew uncomfortably tense until Irene got up to leave, prompting Chris to finally ask slowly:

“I want her to become my wife.”

Irene stopped in her tracks and looked at her brother.

She had intended to say something like “make her stronger” or “make her worthy of you,” but seeing the determination in Chris’s eyes, and recalling Vanessa’s private sobs that she had overheard through the Secret Ear Technique, she suddenly found she couldn’t say those words.

So, Irene’s final response was, “Alright, but you two must find happiness.”

As the siblings left the room and encountered many servants in the corridor, they were greeted with respectful salutations.

“Good day, Madam Irene,” “Young Master Chris”…

Quickly, they arrived at the manor’s basement to start preparing the items needed for the Lost Ritual—it would only be half an hour before members of the Fischer family would arrive one after another, and in two hours, the Lost Ritual would officially commence.

The third arrival was Mormir, who nodded in greeting before kneeling quietly to the side and began to pray softly with his eyes closed.

According to plans laid out by the Fischer family, the composed Mormir would later become a “police officer,” tasked with collecting relevant intelligence.

Irene felt that Mormir had a good chance of becoming a “Devotee.” His faith in the Lord of the Lost ran deep within his heart.

Mormir’s parents had both perished at the hands of a Spawn of the Abyss summoned by the Sea God Cult.

He himself greatly revered the Lord of the Lost, the nemesis of the Spawn, believing only His greatness could truly transform this increasingly chaotic and desperate world.

Yeager and Savoie followed, the two men who had been at odds a year ago now nearly inseparable—one smooth and easy-going, the other hot-tempered and belligerent—yet had become as close as brothers.

With sunshine-like blond hair and brimming with aristocratic demeanor, the ever-smiling Yeager was immediately drawn to the towering altar, attracted by the sacred object that had altered the fate of the Fischer family.

“Hospital Director Irene, I am honored. I’ve waited so long for this day—to finally see It, at last…” he said.

Byrne and Theo arrived next.

“Sorry, have I almost arrived too late? I’ve been so busy,” Byrne immediately inquired.

“Not at all, there’s still plenty of time,” Irene replied, shaking her head.

It was true that Byrne was incredibly busy, with the increasingly complex organizational structure of the Fischer family, he was clearly struggling to keep up.

Others, like Vanessa, Archibald, and Erik, also arrived one after another.

Chris and Vanessa exchanged glances.

The last to arrive was Inna, who looked extremely nervous and anxious, completely speechless.

Byrne and Irene quickly noticed her discomfort. Byrne gave a nod, and Irene took Inna to a corner, saying:

“Inna, the ritual is about to start—are you afraid? What’s the matter?”

Inna turned white and said, “I—I’m scared, sorry, Hospital Director, but I’m truly scared.”

Irene frowned slightly and asked in a low voice, “Are you scared of our Lord?”

Inna’s legs went weak, and her petite body nearly faltered as she quickly shook her head, her voice tremulous with sobs:

“No, no, no, I shouldn’t feel fear; I’m sorry, Hospital Director Irene. I know the Lord of the Lost is the greatest being; He will grant us strength, He will grant us everything!”

Irene fell silent for a moment, then spoke slowly:

“I’ve said before, that disappearance of the town wasn’t our doing, Inna. It was the work of those impostors who should drown in the abyss. Our Lord is not an Evil God… and you’re not here to be a sacrifice, either.”

Inna hung her head low, trembling, while Irene had already grasped what Inna was actually afraid of.

The notoriety of the Lost followers had spread through the newspapers.

People on the East Coast, and even most of the Cyart people, were aware there was a heinously evil cult—the Lost Cult—that had crazily sacrificed an entire town to an Evil God!

And she was the most suspicious child, fearful that everything over the past few years was a sham, and that she would soon joyfully become a tragic sacrifice to the Evil God.

In fact, this sort of deception was not uncommon among heretical groups, where many low-level followers unwittingly ended up as sacrifices to mysterious beings.

Although understanding, Irene was still displeased and stopped reassuring Inna with a stern face.

“Time is almost up, get ready.”

She said coldly, “Even if you truly wished to be a sacrifice, you wouldn’t be qualified.”

With half an hour left before the Lost Ritual’s start, just as Yeager and the others thought they were the only Blood Receivers, another person suddenly arrived.

The man was short in stature, clad in a black suit, sporting a small mustache, hair meticulously combed with respect shining in his eyes.

Grandma Narda’s eldest son, Moore Shelby, the leader of the Dagger Brotherhood.

Moore’s face was still smeared with blood, panting heavily, he immediately bowed and said to Irene:

“I apologize, Madam Irene, for my lateness, but I had to deal with some urgent matters in the East City District; however, I’ve now resolved them.”

Yeager’s smile slightly faded, realizing that the new Blood Receivers weren’t only from Daybreak Orphanage.

Irene nodded and said calmly, “It’s alright, Moore. Find your place, the ritual is about to begin.”

Once Moore had taken his place at the back, she began to speak slowly:

“We shall lead you to the Spirit Realm in your dreams, to witness His most magnificent power. You will receive the blood of the Fischer family, filled with extraordinary destiny, and gain powers that transcend those of mere mortals!”