Chapter 111: Blood Bug (2) [Bonus]
"We came all this way."
"And now you will go back."
She stepped toward him. "My father nearly died because of this place. I have a right to know what is inside."
Lucard looked at her. "Rights do not stop teeth."
Lysa clenched her fists. "You cannot just order us away."
"I can."
Brant placed a hand on her shoulder. "Lysa."
She turned to him. "Father."
Brant shook his head. "He saved my life and brought us here for a reason. If he says leave, we leave."
"But you are weak. You cannot ride back through the night."
"I can ride slowly with the men." Brant looked at Lucard. "Where should we go?"
"Gravehold. Silver Ash House. Ask for Jenny Vardros and Jake Vardros. Tell the gate guards I sent you."
Lysa frowned. "You want us to meet them?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because your father offered service to House Vardros. That is for them to hear, not me."
Brant nodded slowly. "I understand."
Lucard looked at the six mercenaries. "Take him safely. Do not stop near the ridge. Do not camp within two hours of this cave. If anyone hears whispers, ignore them. If anyone coughs blood, tie him before he can walk away."
The mercenaries looked at each other with fear.
Lysa swallowed. "What is in there?"
Lucard looked at the dark entrance. "Something that eats invitations written in blood."
That answer made no sense to her, but it scared her more than a clear one.
Brant climbed back onto his horse with difficulty. Before leaving, he looked at Lucard one more time.
"I will take your words to Jenny and Jake. If they accept, Ash Wolf will serve under proper oath."
Lucard said, "Tell Jake your family once helped Vardros long ago. He will like hearing he was right."
Brant gave a weak smile. "The young lord remembers old debts?"
"He remembers what his father told him."
Brant’s face became serious. "Then House Vardros is not finished."
Lucard did not answer.
Lysa looked at him for a long moment. There was still fear in her eyes. There was still anger too, but it no longer pointed clearly at him. It had been broken, scattered, and forced to search for a new target.
"If you do not come back?" she asked.
Lucard looked at her. "Then do not enter after me."
"That is not an answer."
"It is the useful part of one."
She wanted to say more, but Brant called her name.
A few moments later, the horses moved away from the cave.
Lucard stood still until the last sound of hooves faded into the distance.
Then he took out the cloth from his inner pocket.
The small thing inside had dried after being pulled from Brant’s blood, but its shape was still clear. It looked like a tiny red worm mixed with a beetle larva. Its body had many small segments. Thin hair-like legs curled under it. Its head was almost too small to notice, but two black dots sat at the front like sleeping eyes.
A baby blood bug.
Lucard recognized it when he saw Brant’s condition.
In Null, such creatures had another name among the lower gods who loved puppets and hidden control. Blood Nest Worms. Some called them Puppet Blood Bugs. They were rare, ugly, useful creatures born from divine blood experiments. A true mother bug could lay eggs the size of dust. Those eggs entered the body through water, wounds, breath, or food. Once inside, they hatched slowly and fed on the host’s blood. For the first weeks, the host only felt tired. Then came coughing, fever, dreams, weakness, and a strange desire to return to the place where the mother waited.
After about two months, the baby bug could begin controlling the host.
Not perfectly.
Not like a real soul puppet.
But enough to make a sick man walk toward the mother nest. When the host returned, the mother bug drained the blood, ate the baby, and laid more eggs. Blood was its main food. Bodies were its fields. Hosts were walking bags of meat that carried food home.
High level gods sometimes bred them in lower worlds.
They would hide a mother bug in a sealed cave, ruin, well, grave field, or shrine. Then they waited. Villagers, beasts, mercenaries, soldiers, and foolish treasure hunters would become food. Over time, the bug would create a small nest. A god could later collect the mother and use its eggs to control servants, soldiers, believers, or enemies.
Lucard’s eyes narrowed.
That meant one thing.
A god had touched this lower world.
Maybe long ago.
Maybe recently.
The dead baby in his palm was weak, but its blood pattern was real. It had not come from a natural beast. It belonged to Null’s crueler arts.
He wrapped the dead bug again and stepped into the cave.
The air became cold after a few steps.
The entrance led into a narrow tunnel. Old marks were carved on the walls, but time had eaten most of them. Some marks looked like warning symbols. Some looked like broken prayer lines. Dust covered the ground, except for the recent footprints left by Brant and his men. Those footprints went only to the first chamber and then back. Beyond that, the dust was thick and untouched.
Lucard raised one finger.
A small flame appeared.
Basic fire magic lit the wall with a weak orange glow. It was enough.
He walked deeper.
The first chamber held old bones, as Brant had said. Not many. Perhaps twenty or thirty people had died there over the years. Their armor was rusted. Their clothes were gone. Some bones had bite marks too small for wolves. Lucard crouched near one skull and turned it with his finger. A thin hole sat at the base of the jaw, where something had crawled out after eating its way through soft flesh.
He continued.
The tunnel behind the first chamber sloped downward. The air grew thicker. His flame flickered red at the edges. The blood in his body reacted, not with danger, but with hunger. Something below had fed on blood for a long time, even if it had not eaten recently.