Chapter 11: Preparations
Just as my "drug dealer" creation, my puppet, Nikola Drusla, told me, this place is perfect.
This dilapidated warehouse stands not far from the academy, in an area that has long been abandoned. Despite its proximity to the school, it's isolated enough not to attract unwanted attention. The outer walls of the structure are faded and covered in graffiti. The roof clearly shows signs of decay, with some parts missing or partially collapsed. The entire building seems ready to be demolished, and the area around the warehouse has been fenced off in anticipation of future redevelopment, likely to make way for new residential developments.
The facade of the warehouse has been weathered by time and the elements. The paint that once covered it has faded and peeled away, leaving the building with a neglected and abandoned look. The bricks are dirty and discolored, with some parts of the plaster peeling off to reveal the bare brick underneath.
The windows have been bricked up or covered with plywood to prevent unauthorized access. Some panels are broken or missing, allowing anyone bold enough to approach to catch a glimpse inside.
The entire building appears decrepit and precarious. There are cracks in the walls, and parts of the roof seem to have collapsed, revealing the sky above. Despite its degraded condition, the warehouse still has an imposing and sinister air that makes it perfect for my purposes.
Inside the warehouse, the scene is equally desolate. The windows are broken or covered with wooden boards, allowing only dim and sporadic light inside. The floor is dirty and strewn with debris, evidence of past use by drug addicts. Old, rusty industrial equipment lies abandoned at various points in the structure.
I had the area cleaned up and the human waste junkies driven away by my slaves, Nikola Drusla and Reis Vonner, along with their subordinates. They also installed locks and chains to ensure that only I could access the warehouse. This place has become my secret haven, where I can perform my rituals and carry out my plan in peace.
In the underground level of the warehouse, everything seems perfect for my purpose. The walls are damp and covered in mold, and the ceiling is low, creating an oppressive atmosphere. Here, in the shadows, I can work undisturbed, away from the curious eyes of the outside world.
I forward a message to my two slaves:
< Excellent work. You've earned some extras. >
They immediately respond with thanks. They know well not to keep me waiting. I must admit they have performed perfectly.
The underground plan of the warehouse is divided into several rooms, each with its specific function for my rituals and plans.
One area will be dedicated to the preparation of special potions and spells. Worktables will be covered with magical ingredients, steaming stills, and alchemical tools. It is here that I will create potions and poisons. This will be my alchemical laboratory.
The room for Raqahela's altar. I need to keep her favor for the moment. I have no hope against an archdemon whose power I can't even quantify. Besides, given her power, she will undoubtedly be useful as an ally for now. The main room of the underground floor will be dominated by a dark altar in the center. The altar will be adorned with arcane symbols and runes. Above where I envision the altar, a small window allows the entrance of dim light, creating a sinister and evocative atmosphere. Here, I will play my role as the Bishop of Lust and corrupt souls to obtain [CORRUPTION POINTS].
The cage. In this putrid room, I will break my enemies. There are no windows, it's dirty and filthy. There is only one access, which is the door through which I entered and which I can lock. I can already imagine Luysia Camclair, bound and gagged. I shiver with pleasure at the thought; I can't wait.
But first, I need aphrodisiacs, drugs, and, most importantly, something I surprisingly haven't used yet: poisons. With my alchemical skill, I can create potent poisons, and inspired by my new ability [DEMONIC HOLD], I can also create paralyzing substances. I haven't used poisons yet because they would be easier to detect. However, to subdue Luysia Camclair, I will need all my cards on the table. We're talking about a Paladin and, moreover, a RANK A.
The most important thing at the moment is to create that damned Master-Servant contract. I sit down on a dilapidated chair that is abandoned down here. I open Professor Merfal's book. I read the section dedicated to the contract.
For the ritual, I need to draw a demonic magic circle on the floor using my own blood. Inside the circle is an octogram, an eight-pointed star. Inside the octogram is a pentacle. I'm sure each star represents something, but I'm more interested in the result than the meaning. I can see the rough sketch of the design in the book.
How much blood do I need? At least half a liter. I can stretch it a bit. With a medical kit close at hand, I cut my left hand with a knife. I let the blood flow into a funnel, which transfers the liquid into a vial capable of holding about a liter. When I've filled about half the container, I disinfect the wound and close it with a band-aid. Then I dress the wound. I cast [MINOR HEAL] on myself. Carefully, I add a diluent to the container with my blood until it's full. I mix it. I dip a brush and begin to draw the magic circle.
"Are you sure it's correct? Why didn't you ask for her help?" Raqahela suddenly appears at my side. She's in human form, dressed in her elegant tailcoat.
"I prefer not to ask for help, to achieve results on my own. Besides, I'm sure you would have intervened if I did something wrong," I reply as I continue to paint.
"It's correct, but Raqahela would like to play the role of the teacher. It's one of her fantasies," she says mischievously.
"If I have doubts, I'll ask. If you have suggestions, feel free to express them. Of course, only if they're free of charge." The woman laughs, then nods.
I've finished the circle. I'm quite satisfied with the result. Raqahela applauds.
I would say the preparations are complete.
I pick up my phone and send a message.
< Rero, it's time. > <? Time for what? > she responds. < Time to make you stronger. >