They were draped in crimson robes, with crimson hoodies that reminded Ryuk of the crimson moon above him.
The battle was a heated one, and with their hoodies flung off, he was finally able to see their faces.
What was most eye-catching about them was their snow-white hair—white as freshly fallen snow—just like his.
But their eyes were crimson, and they brandished claws at the Archguards, each strike unleashing powerful blood-red energy.
When paired with their peculiar appearance—their extended ears and bared fangs—Ryuk could have easily labeled them as vampires...
If not for the eye-catching black scales covering the lower parts of their faces and parts of their palms.
These scales were inscribed with runic, red blood symbols.
Many of the twelve were men, with only two being female, but seven of them had already been defeated, collapsing into their own pool of blood, and only three were still fighting.
Ryuk didn’t bother to engage since the group seemed to have everything under control already.
Instead, he looked around, eyes flickering in nauseous surprise at what lay before him.
For one, they had previously been hidden behind a mountain.
Unlike the others, this mountain wasn’t entirely broken, and behind it... was a blood-red runic circle.
It was large—around 20 meters in circumference.
But what caught his attention was the bizarre red blood that flowed across the runes carved into it.
Ryuk walked closer, dragging a hand across the surface before raising it to his nose.
A single sniff was all he needed.
Bood.
He looked around further, but found nothing else.
Just the runic circle.
"It can’t just be that... Where did those things get the blood from?"
He had seen some of their blood spilled on the ground during the battle, and he could tell—it wasn’t the same as what was used on the circle.
So, he turned to the one thing that still felt like a remaining clue:
The mountain where they’d all hidden behind.
"The sound that brought me here... the sound of something knocking. Like the sound of... carving?" he muttered to himself, eyes scanning the dark mountain.
STEP
STEP
STEP
Footsteps echoed behind him, and he could already sense the group’s presence, though he didn’t turn.
Instead, he moved closer to the mountain wall, pressing an ear against the cold rock and silently listening.
DRIIIIPPP
It could barely be heard.
The sound of something dripping...against stone.
Even with his incredible sense of hearing, the sound was distant... faint.
He continued moving quietly along the mountain’s side and was quick to realize:
The farther he went, the clearer the sound became.
’Just what is he even doing?’ was the thought lingering in the minds of the group behind him.
They had already sent all their divine senses through the mountain, scanning it in its entirety, and found nothing.
It was just a regular old mountain, looking special for not being broken.
Or so they thought.
Until Ryuk floated a couple of meters into the air, his ear pressed against the stone.
He began tapping randomly along the surface.
It hadn’t even been 10 seconds before he felt it:
A wall looser than the rest.
He pushed in.
GRUUUUUUUUUUUUM
The mountain began shaking violently, and Ruk backed off it.
It didn’t seem like it would all come slamming down, but better safe than sorry.
Dust and small stones fell, and like a puzzle unraveling, block after block began to sink into the mountain itself.
The process continued, a grumbling roar echoing as chunks receded inward.
When it ended, the group instinctively wrinkled their noses.
The smell was disgusting.
Not just the stench of blood, but of rot.
And it was unmistakably that of rotting bodies, as Ryuk looked on at the scene now revealed.
A hall was built into the mountain.
At the center of the hall stood a simple altar, covered in bizarre red runes.
Nothing about the altar seemed unusual—until one looked around it.
Half-rotten bodies.
Their blood clearly drained, their faces still frozen in anguish, even in death.
But even in death... Ryuk could sense it.
"The missing Archguards," Mason’s voice echoed, the group now having arrived beside him in the air.
"They... are a total of 81," Grozque added, floating closer to the bodies and counting again.
The Organization had said 77 people were missing.
But here there were 81.
"And they’re all dead..." Gus muttered, his heart sinking at the sight.
Foreigner Archguards were rare enough, considering the requirement to be at the Apocrypha Stage—a rare, elite tier of cultivation even in the Upper realms.
Yet here... 81 were right before them.
’The way their souls seem sucked out... and their blood dried,’ Ryuk thought, stepping further into the mountain.
His eyes roamed, settling on the altar and the red runes covering its edges.
"Did you leave any of the Crimson Demons alive?" he asked, turning to the group.
They shook their heads.
"They all killed themselves once they realized defeat was inevitable," Mason explained.
Ryuk hummed to himself.
There wasn’t much left—just the altar, the dead bodies, and the incomplete runes on the ground.
Perhaps if they had managed to keep even one of the Crimson Demons alive, they might’ve uncovered more. But unfortunately, they were all dead.
Orrelith stepped forward.
Her golden hand extended, touching the altar’s surface.
As she did, the blood-red lines flared, releasing a shocking, overwhelming force that tried to suck her blood.
But in the end—it failed.
Then:
CRACCKKKK
CRAACCKKK
Cracks began forming all over the altar’s surface before it shattered into nothing, dispersing into fragments.
But as it disappeared, something strange formed.
A shape, lingering in the air for just a few seconds before vanishing completely.
Something Ryuk saw only once, but burned into his memory forever.
Wordlessly, he turned, the runic image he last saw still burnt into his memory, before looking at the one present on the ground behind the mountain.
A gleam of realization crossed his eyes right after,
"I think I get it now."