The air in the Blackwood manor, once merely thick with opulent silence, now felt heavy with unspoken dread. The team's clandestine meeting had solidified their suspicions: the powerful House of Blackwood was deeply intertwined with the Crimson Veil cult.
"The cellars are our priority," Eric stated, his voice low and firm during their next hushed rendezvous in a disused laundry room. "Seraph, you observed cultists with crimson-tinged Blackwood emblems on their wrists, mostly those working in the deepest cellars. We need to follow that lead."
"Their access is restricted, Team Leader," Seraph whispered, her usually quiet demeanor laced with concern. "They use a complex system of internal spiritual locks, far beyond what a regular servant would encounter. And there are always guards. Not the usual manor guards, but cloaked figures, their Qi suppressed."
"That aligns with the 'unseen guests' Roric reported," Eric noted. "And the extra meat and herbs. They're likely feeding whatever is in those deeper sections." He looked at Anya. "Anya, your stealth is unmatched. You will attempt to gain access to the cellars first. Look for any active rituals, any signs of large-scale spiritual consumption, or any captured individuals. If you find anything significant, mark a discreet entry point for the rest of us. Do not engage."
Anya nodded, her eyes sharp. "Understood, Team Leader."
"Kord," Eric continued, turning to the Core Formation agent, "your knowledge of formations will be crucial. If Anya finds a locked pathway, you'll be responsible for bypassing it. Be prepared for high-level spiritual defenses."
Kord, now fully respectful, simply inclined his head. "I will be ready."
"The rest of us will maintain our covers," Eric concluded. "Keep your ears open, observe any changes in the manor's routines, especially related to Lord Gareth's movements. This is a high-risk operation. Precision and silence are paramount."
That night, under the cover of the manor's sprawling activity, Anya slipped through the servants' passages like a ghost. Her innate talent for stealth, honed by years in the Directorate, allowed her to bypass even the most sensitive spiritual tripwires. She moved towards the manor's deepest cellars, following the faint, unsettling hum of corrupted Qi that even her suppressed senses could now detect.
The first few levels of the cellar were mundane: wine storage, preserved provisions, mundane servants' quarters. But as she descended deeper, the air grew colder, heavier. The spiritual locks Seraph had mentioned became more frequent, pulsing with a sinister energy. She spotted the cloaked guards, their forms almost invisible in the dim light, their Qi carefully muted, but she could discern the subtle crimson tinge on their wrists – the Crimson Mark. These were not ordinary guards.
Anya finally reached a massive, iron-bound door, its surface pulsating with complex spiritual formations. Two Crimson-Marked guards stood sentinel before it, their stances rigid. This was clearly the primary entry point. Anya's keen senses picked up a faint, rhythmic chanting echoing from beyond the door, a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down her spine. The air here was thick with the oppressive, corrupted Qi. She knew this was it.
She located a small, unsealed ventilation shaft, hidden behind a stack of crates – too small for a human, but large enough for a small spiritual beast to crawl through. It was a potential point of entry, albeit a risky one. She left a subtle Directorate marker, invisible to the naked eye, then retreated, her report already formulating in her mind.
The team reconvened in their hidden meeting spot, Eric's eyes grave as Anya delivered her report.
"The chanting is rhythmic, deep," Anya described, her voice hushed. "The Qi is overwhelming down there, Team Leader. Dark, corrupt. And the guards... they carry the Crimson Mark. They're not just under influence; they are true believers."
"And the ventilation shaft?" Kord asked, his fingers already tracing spiritual diagrams in the air.
"Too small for direct entry," Anya confirmed. "But it indicates a deeper network. We'll need to disable the main door's formations for a more secure breach."
"Alright," Eric said, his gaze hardening. "Kord, Anya, Seraph, you're with me for the initial breach. Lysa, Jin, Roric, you will secure our rear, creating a diversion if necessary, and ensure no one enters or leaves this part of the manor. Be prepared for heavy resistance."
They waited for the deepest part of the night, when the manor's activity was at its lowest ebb. Moving like shadows, they reached the iron-bound door. Kord immediately set to work, his fingers dancing over the complex spiritual runes, his brow furrowed in concentration as he analyzed the formidable formations. Eric and Anya stood guard, their senses stretched thin, listening for any sign of detection. Seraph prepared her illusions, ready to mask their presence.
Minutes stretched into an eternity. Sweat beaded on Kord's brow. "These are ancient runes," he whispered, "layered with a modern suppression array. It's designed to lock Qi from both sides. Tricky. But I have it."
With a soft, almost imperceptible click, the spiritual formations on the door shimmered, then dimmed. Kord had done it.
"Go," Eric whispered, pushing the heavy door open a crack.
The stench hit them first: a foul, cloying odor of stagnant blood, decay, and something indescribably unnatural. The chanting, now loud and guttural, resonated from deeper within. The air was thick, suffocating with the concentrated, corrupted Qi that made Eric's draconic essence recoil.
They slipped inside, entering a vast, torch-lit cavern. It wasn't a cellar; it was an enormous, natural cavern, expanded and shaped by ancient spiritual practices. Pillars of carved stone reached to the high ceiling, adorned with chilling, crimson symbols that pulsed with a faint, unholy light.
At the center of the cavern, a ritual was in full swing. Dozens of cloaked figures, their crimson-marked wrists visible, chanted around a massive, pulsating red portal, identical to the one Eric had seen in the Shadowfell Peaks. But this one was larger, more stable, and pouring forth a torrent of dark, malevolent energy.
And within the portal's unholy glow, Eric saw it. Chains of black spiritual energy snaked from the portal, attaching to several grotesque, pulsating organic constructs that resembled immense, malformed hearts. These 'hearts' were pulsating, absorbing the dark energy from the portal, and from them, more chains stretched out, leading to rows upon rows of humanoid figures, suspended in mid-air, their bodies emaciated, their eyes vacant, their Qi being slowly, agonizingly drained.
"By the Ancestors..." Kord gasped, a rare tremor in his voice. "They're feeding on them! They're draining their spiritual energy!"
Anya's face was pale with horror. "These are the 'mindless' staff Seraph saw... and the missing villagers, perhaps."
Among the robed figures overseeing the ritual, one stood out. He was taller, his robes more ornate, and the corrupted Qi radiating from him was immensely powerful, easily Nascent Soul Stage 2. And as he turned, his hood momentarily slipping, Eric saw his face: Lord Gareth Blackwood. His eyes gleamed with a fanatic zeal, utterly devoid of the charm he displayed in the manor. The faint trace Anya had sensed was now a roaring inferno of corruption.
"Lord Gareth," Eric breathed, his voice barely audible. "He's leading it."
"Eric, the organic constructs!" the Dragon Spirit warned, its voice resonating with deep alarm. "Those are Spirit-Devouring Vessels! They are not merely draining the cultivators. They are refining the corrupted Qi from the portal, and fusing it with the life force of their victims, to create something abominable! They are creating Crimson Beasts! The Blood-Horned Colossus was a crude prototype. They are preparing a far greater horror!"
Eric's blood ran cold. They weren't just a cult; they were an insidious, living weapon factory. The endless monsters from the Shadowfell Peaks, the colossal A-rank beast – it was all part of a larger, terrifying plan.
"Team Leader, what's the command?" Anya whispered, her hand already on her daggers.
Eric's mind raced. They were outmatched in terms of raw numbers and the presence of a powerful Nascent Soul cultivator. A direct assault would be suicidal. Their mission was intelligence and capture, not full-scale confrontation. But letting this continue was unthinkable.
"We need to gather more intel," Eric whispered back, his voice grim. "Specifically, what they are creating, and how they are maintaining this ritual. Seraph, use your illusions to create a diversion, a subtle one, to draw a few cultists away. Anya, use the confusion to get closer to Lord Gareth. See if you can identify any ritual components, or any weaknesses in the portal or the vessels. Kord, prepare a disabling formation – we need to cut off the spiritual energy to those constructs if we can. I'll cover you."
The chanting grew louder, more frantic. The red portal pulsed, disgorging dark tendrils of energy. The emaciated figures suspended in the air twitched, their life force visibly draining.
Suddenly, a shift in the air. Lord Gareth, his head snapped towards their hidden position, his eyes glowing green. He had sensed them.
"Intruders!" Lord Gareth's voice boomed, echoing through the cavern, filled with a chilling, distorted power. "The Imperial Dogs have come sniffing! Kill them all!"
The chanting stopped abruptly. Dozens of Crimson-Marked cultists turned, their faces contorted with fanatic rage, their corrupted Qi flaring. Lord Gareth, his robes swirling, unleashed a wave of dark spiritual energy directly at their hiding spot.
"Engage!" Eric roared, throwing up a hastily erected, yet surprisingly resilient, spiritual barrier to deflect the initial attack. The sound of clashing Qi, cries of battle, and the ominous hum of the red portal filled the cavern.
Their mission for discretion had just become a desperate fight for survival. They were trapped deep within the Blackwood manor, surrounded by fanatics, facing a monstrous ritual and a powerful Nascent Soul cultivator. And the horrifying truth of the Crimson Veil was finally laid bare before them.