Everyone looked like they had just seen a ghost. All sorts of disgusting acts taking place abruptly stopped, even the out-of-tune instrumentalists paused at the sight of Dhein.
He could recognize some uniform from the imperial army and some of the higher ranking officials of the council. They all froze, their faces full of shock.
All except one.
Sitting by the bar counter, a familiar person was holding a woman by the hair. He was obviously drunk out of his system while he dragged the poor girl against her will.
When he noticed the silence, this man looked around, agitated.
"What the hell is going on?" asked the balding fat bastard.
"Play that shitty music, god damnit."
Dheinyrus stepped forward, the two girls following behind him. Everyone who was in his way hurriedly moved in fear and scrambled out of the building.
The bastard finally saw the three people approaching him and when he did, his agitated expression slowly turned into panic.
Dhein stopped in front of him, staring at him in silence.
"Y—Young master!" he stammered, forcing an enthusiastic smile.
"It's unusual of you to come here! Are you here to have some fun?"
He still hadn't let go of the crying woman. She was holding on to his wrist that pulled her hair and judging by how she looked, it seemed like she didn't even belong to this place.
The bastard was wearing their family crest, a circle framed in angel wings with a divine symbol made out of diamond. It was stitched to the suit that only high ranking officials within the Divinity Clan could wear.
"State your name," Dheinyrus firmly demanded.
Finally, the bastard threw the woman aside and stood up, placing his right fist on his chest.
"I am Sike Monrow," he proudly answered.
Dhein recognized him as one of his uncle's secretary. They were responsible for organizing all of the activities related to the Church of Blood.
The Church of Blood was a religion that taught about the insignificance of the flesh. The mortal body was merely a vessel to which the divine will could manifest itself. Things such as suffering and pleasure, hunger and satisfaction, pain and joy, were all nothing but distractions, and humans should strive to cast away all the worldly things and dedicate their bodies to the will of the gods.
When they were still students, Dhein watched as Zarria almost died from dehydration because of a tradition that this religion carried. One where once a child of the Divinity Clan turned ten years of age, their souls will stop connecting to the divine temporarily and they had to go about their daily lives without food or water for six whole days. As strong as Zarria was, without her soul connecting to the divine, she was just another normal girl. Her body almost failed to make it to the end of the fast.
Dhein remembered going through the same thing. Although he really suffered a lot during those times, he did so much better compared to his little sister. Perhaps, without the Mirror of Heaven giving Zarria a significant boost in strength, he would actually be stronger physically. In any case, this tradition had taken some lives within their clan. Their dedication to the religion was so strong that they would throw their mortal lives away for it. From a young age, the children of divinity learned to not be attached to the worldly pleasures and hone the purity of their souls.
Dhein had thought that all who preached the teachings of this religion practiced it.
"What were you doing to that woman?" he asked calmly, his eyes never leaving the man.
Sike glared at the girl who was running from the scene as fast as she could. After reaching for the door, she immediately left.
Sighing, the balding fat bastard replied.
"Young master, I was just trying to put her in her place. When a member of the Divinity Clan says she belongs to him now, she should cry in joy and accept her fate."
There wasn't a response from the scion of divinity. The drunk Sike continued.
"Oh! Are you perhaps confused as to why I am in a place like this?"
Hiccuping, Sike casually placed a hand on Dhein's shoulder.
"Young master, come on. Religions aside, we men need to... unwind sometimes... if you know what I mean."
And then he laughed.
Dhein lifted the man's wrist off of his shoulder, threw it to the side, and then asked:
"How many women did you do this to?"
Sike looked up, furrowing his eyebrows as if searching for the answer from the ceiling.
"I don't know. I never keep count. Besides... they're just slum rats. People like us can just do to them whatever we please."
The Church of Blood didn't only teach humans how to set aside the pleasures of the flesh. It also taught them that all human blood, no matter whose, were equally insignificant.
"Don't you agree, young master? I can recommend you some of my toys, if you're here for that!"
When Dhein smiled, Sike's eyes sparkled in excitement. However, the scion of divinity's next words were a bit confusing to the drunk bastard.
"Zarria, break his legs."
The girl stepped ahead with a terrifying grin on her face.
"As you wish, brother."
Sike's eyes widened as he stepped backwards.
"H—Hey, what are you doing?"
He looked beyond Zarria to Dhein.
"Young master! What is the meaning of this? I've done nothing wrong!"
Dhein didn't reply. Instead, he happily watched as horror creeped into the bastard's eyes.
"Master Raymond will hear about this! Stop!"
When Zarria was close enough, Sike clenched his fist and winded up for a punch. He threw it with speeds enhanced by the Mirror of Heaven. But just before it could land on Zarria's face, Sike's entire arm dropped to the ground.
His screams filled the building. The others who were inside also hurriedly left.
But it didn't matter. Dhein had already memorized their faces.
No one saw what Zarria did, but Sike's right arm was cleanly severed. Blood gushed from his limb, painting the floor dark red.
Zarria properly lifted her skirt and then violently stomped on Sike's knee, crushing his bones. It bended unnaturally, making the bastard fall to the floor as he desperately cried and screamed. Sike was swimming in the puddle of his own blood.
The girl raised her foot once again, and pulverized Sike's other knee with her metal heels.
Sike was squirming like a bug, screaming "Gods, help me" over and over again. Dhein stepped forward and crouched down, grabbed what little hair was left on Sike's head and then made the bastard face him.
Fear was written all over Sike's eyes. Tears, mucus and saliva, along with blood covered his face.
"Please, young master. Help me!"
This man turned his back on the value they upheld. He administered the disregard of the mortal body, yet he betrayed this teaching in the most disgusting way.
"You tarnish my name," Dhein whispered. His eyes had boiling intensity of unmeasurable rage.
This bastard was a disgrace to the clan.
"You are a traitor. You betrayed the name of Theocheirós."
No wonder so many people from the slums loathed the very thought of accepting the mark of divinity. Some members of the clan were acting like this trash.
Just how many years has this been going on?
How bad did the name Theocheirós had become to the powerless?
"This betrayal will be paid by every drop of your own blood."
Lament and terror washed over Sike's face. This time, he cried not in pain, but in helplessness.
"I'm sorry... Please forgive me, master Dheinyrus. I never meant to betray the clan! My life was threatened!"
Dhein's eyes opened wide.
'What the hell is this fucker saying?'
"I was threatened! They said they'd kill me if I didn't help them! I had no choice but to betray you, I'm sorry! I don't know how you found this out but I'm sorry!"
Sike was drunk and possibly no longer aware of the things that were coming out of his mouth.
But he seemed to have told them something he shouldn't have, or wouldn't have, if he was sober.
'There's an actual betrayal within the clan?'
Dhein tightened his grip to the bastard's hair. With Fiorelle standing behind him, he chose his next words carefully.
"If you want my forgiveness, then tell me everything that I have to know."
Breathing heavily like a pig, Sike opened his mouth.
"They have infiltrated our empire. Now, they're planning to capture the princess, but she—"
Just before Sike could mutter his next words, an abnormal amount of blood came gushing out of his mouth.
Dhein had to let go of him as Sike began to writhe uncontrollably on the ground. Dhein stood up and watched as the next events unfolded.
"W—What is going on?" Fiorelle muttered, hiding behind Dhein's back.
Seconds later, the squirming man stopped abruptly. He lay motionless as if he was dead.
And then, black muscles bulged out of his skin. His bones outgrew his flesh and extra limbs tore through his body. Dhein had never witnessed something like this before, but it was obvious that Sike was undergoing a transformation.
When it was complete, the bastard was a whole new creature.
Glossy black skin, eerily long arms and legs and deadly claws. Its face was an abomination, mouth extending from ear to ear. A set of sharp fangs lined the monster's mouth as a creepy long tongue slithered inside it. Its eyes were a pair of pure dark orbs, dead and emotionless.
Opening its terrifying maw, the monster let out an alien roar.