Chapter 12: Thicker Than Water
"Actually, there’s two things I need your help with..." Dante paused for a second, then added, "For now."
Isabella arched a worried brow before asking slowly, "What are they?"
At this moment, Dante’s smile had disappeared, replaced by a cold, serious expression.
"I know that you are going to go after the scavengers who robbed me." He looked into her eyes. "Could you please bring them to me alive when you do?"
"What do you want to do with them?" she asked, looking surprised.
Dante tilted his head and said in an innocent manner. "It is rude to take something from someone without giving anything back. I require proper compensation for all the things they took from me this day."
At first, Isabella looked taken aback. But then, the corner of her lips curled up almost imperceptibly.
She nodded. "Okay. What’s the second?"
Dante suddenly looked embarrassed and lowered his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, then said in a sheepish voice, "...Blood."
"Blood?" She arched a brow, looking confused, but Dante didn’t say anything else, and just nodded. After a few seconds, however, his meaning seemed to click in her mind, and her eyes suddenly widened. "Wait, don’t tell me... Is that your cost?"
Her voice seemed to carry hints of fear and disbelief.
Seeing her expression, Dante exhaled and nodded slowly.
Blood was indeed the cost to use his power.
All apostles had costs they had to pay to use their power. It was different for every God, and depending on the deity, the cost was either paid before, during, or after an apostle used their power.
Also, even within the same Order, the method by which an apostle paid their cost could differ slightly, depending on their class, grade, or specific ability.
After Dante’s awakening... or more specifically, after he became conscious again following the reattachment of his head, he had instinctively discovered the cost of his power.
The more blood he consumed, the stronger his Blood Demon would become.
"I used my powers earlier," he said softly, letting the sentence hang, hoping she would catch his drift.
Truth be told, at first, he had pondered keeping his cost a secret, but in the end, he decided to tell her. He trusted Isabella with his life, and he figured that things would be much easier if she knew. She could even help him when he was in a pinch.
"I see." Isabella slowly looked away. After a second, she looked back at him and gently caressed his cheek. "Alright. In the meantime, go have a shower. You can manage that on your own, right?"
Dante’s mouth twitched. "My injuries are not that bad."
Isabella smiled and nodded. Then her eyes softened. "Since the clothes and other stuff you brought with you were stolen, I’ll have Vincenzo get you something to change into." She looked around the room, which didn’t fit the standard of nobles as wealthy as them. Still, it was a bit manageable. Fortunately, it was one of the most expensive rooms available, despite the lingering draft and rustic decor.
There was a plush armchair by the fireplace, and a sturdy oak table and chair in the corner near the window.
"I think... it’s best if you spend the night here. I’ll also have someone change the sheets to something more... comfortable."
Dante offered a small nod of gratitude. "Thank you, Mother."
***
...
..
.
Some time later, Isabella sat at one of the tables in the ground floor near the bar. She was leaning forward, resting her head on the wooden surface like someone thoroughly exhausted. There was a glass of vodka beside her head with ice floating inside, and she kept absentmindedly tracing her index finger around the rim while lost in thought.
"Mother of Blood, Evelyn," she muttered under her breath. "Where did he even get that name from?"
A hundred questions seemed to race across her face.
Of course, she could have just asked him, but she knew Dante wouldn’t answer no matter how many times she pressed. So, she held her tongue and chosen to help instead.
Dante had always been like that. He knew things he shouldn’t, but how he came by that knowledge was a riddle that always left her baffled. More frustrating still was the fact that he would simply shut down if she pushed for answers.
So rather than asking questions, she decided to get more involved in his life. That way, she could protect him... even from himself.
Isabella sighed.
’That boy has so many secrets... He’s the only one of my children that I do not understand at all, and it scares me. Why am I even surprised that he’s become an apostle of an unknown deity? He’s always had this mysterious unearthly side to him, and it terrifies me to think where it might lead.’
Beside her, the Afghan hound whimpered upon seeing her mood. This caused her to subconsciously reach out her hand and stroke the soft fur behind its ears.
Just then, the knight who had come with her walked over. He lowered his head respectfully. "My Lady."
Slowly, Isabella lifted her head and offered a faint nod.
The knight then sat down in front of her and began his report.
"According to Matteo, he saw Dante dragging the bodies from the labyrinth. I don’t know why he didn’t just bless them himself, but the bodies have been blessed by the high priest currently on duty here, so there’s no fear that they’d become Blighted Creatures."
’He brought them out as evidence to show that scavengers were responsible. As for why he didn’t pray for them himself, that was likely so the High Priestess would be forced to handle it. That way, the cleric would be kept occupied and away from him,’ Isabella deduced silently, though she kept the thought to herself.
Seeing her silence, the knight continued. "I’ve inspected them, and from what I’ve gathered, the wounds were indeed done by scavengers. They were smart about it. They didn’t use guns, only standard hunting arrows. And they robbed everything..."
At this moment, Isabella gritted her teeth. "Find those bastards. Find all of them. I need them alive, Vincenzo."
Vincenzo bowed subtly. "Yes, My Lady."
He straightened up and glanced around the quiet hall. After a moment of thought, he asked, "Will you be staying here until the morning?"
"Yes," Isabella replied quietly. "I don’t like moving around when the fog is out. Although... I won’t be able to sleep here. So I will just hang out here, drinking till the morning."
Vincenzo frowned. After a few seconds, he nodded tentatively.
"Understood."
He prepared to take his leave when Isabella stopped him. "Wait. I need another favor from you."
"Anything."
Isabella offered a rare smile. "Fill a bottle with your blood and hand it to me."
"Of course — wait, what?" Vincenzo swallowed, and cold sweat broke out all over his body.
’My blood? No, wait... a whole bottle?’ He paled, and his heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. ’A bottle of blood is lethal loss! What did I do? Is she upset with me?’
Seeing his horrified face, Isabella chuckled softly. "Relax. I’m not venting my anger on you, and you won’t die. There’s a high priest in the building, so just have her patch you up if the afterlife begins to call for you."
***
More than thirty minutes later...
——
Dante opened the door to the small room and walked in tiredly. He had just finished having a shower, which took longer than expected due to having to wash all that blood off himself.
Now, he was dressed in light clothes that he had received from Vincenzo.
As he dragged his feet towards the armchair by the fireplace, he was unaware that red mist had begun to spill out of his back, swirling together before coalescing into the translucent figure of a small boy.
Dante kept groaning in pain as he gently rubbed his shoulder injury. Just as he got to the chair and was about to collapse into the soft velvet padding, he suddenly heard a voice, causing him to almost jump in fright.
"Are you okay, master?"