Reborn as a Vampire in a Dying World: Blood, Power, and Pleasure
Chapter 32: Silver to the Widow

Chapter 32: Silver to the Widow

"So? What do we do with the money?" Rose asked, walking beside him with a faint bounce in her step, the clinking of coin pouches echoing from them.

Corven smiled, the kind that said he already had it figured out. "Three hundred and fifty silver for our own leisure," he said, tapping his pouch. "And the other hundred fifty for the house we visited back in that rural village."

Rose tilted his head at him, half-curious, half-amused.

"Look at you, acting like a saint again," she teased, smirking.

Corven let out a short laugh. "I truly wish I could believe your words."

She smirked wider. "Am I having a sense of déjà vu from this conversation?"

Corven shrugged, eyes glancing to the side. "You’re not alone with that."

With that, the two headed off, their pace unhurried but purposeful. This time, they had a different goal in mind—Corven’s goal. He wanted to find someone trustworthy—or at least, willing—to deliver the silver back to that quiet village, the one with the widow and her broken home. So they began asking around, approaching stalls and chatting up locals in between the noisy bustle of the district.

The air reeked of roasted spices, cheap ale, and smoke from half-charred meat skewers. A one-eyed hawker shouted about miracle talismans while two vampiric children darted through the crowd, chasing a ball of string.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long.

Not even an hour had passed before they came across a human mercenary lounging casually by a side alley, seemingly unaffected by the surrounding noise and chaos. He was leaned against a wall just outside a busy intersection, arms crossed, eyes shut like he had all the time in the world.

Corven and Rose approached, their footsteps prompting a lazy stir from the man.

"Hey!" Corven called out, voice firm but not aggressive.

The mercenary blinked awake, rubbing his eyes groggily before glancing their way. "Huh...?"

His eyes settled on them, and his expression shifted to something more alert. "Oh. Must be a customer. What is it?"

Rose raised a brow, unimpressed. "You sure you want to hire this guy?"

Corven answered casually, "Money is a good motivator for people to follow our orders."

The mercenary chuckled, pushing off the wall with a lazy grin. "He’s right, lady. Money talks louder than anything else."

He straightened up, brushing dust from his armor and trying to look just a little more professional now that he saw the coin bags hanging from them.

"What do you need me to do? Pest extermination? Lost trinket? Escort duty? Or—"

"Delivery," Corven cut in, his tone plain.

The mercenary blinked. "Delivery?"

"Yeah," Corven confirmed. "I want you to deliver fifty silver to a rural town not too far from here. The payment is one hundred silver once you return to us."

The mercenary scratched his head, suddenly a bit more interested. "That’s pretty generous, but I need more details than that. There are tons of—"

"Fine, let me explain." Corven sighed, cutting him off again, then took a breath and began detailing everything.

In the span of a few minutes, he laid out the full picture: the direction they took, the shape of the road leading to the village, the trees that marked the halfway point, and the bloody bandit camp just before reaching close to the borders of Urzen. He described the appearance of the widow’s home, the huge church, and even the messy graveyard.

By the time he finished, the mercenary was nodding along, absorbing the information like a man who’d done this sort of thing before.

"So," Corven said, ending his briefing, "that clear enough?"

The mercenary grinned. "Yeah, you’re talking about Terthen, right? I know the place. So I just have to deliver the silver to that widow then?"

"Exactly." Corven reached into his pouch for the silver, but paused before handing it over. "And do be mindful."

His eyes narrowed just slightly.

"If you try to trick us, I’ll make sure you pay..." he added with a low chuckle, the threat half-buried beneath his grin.

The mercenary laughed, seemingly unfazed. "Oh please... one hundred silver just for a delivery job? I wouldn’t dream of losing such generous clients."

He took the silver with practiced ease and pocketed it smoothly.

"We got a deal."

They shook hands, sealing the agreement. Without wasting a second, the mercenary turned and left, disappearing down the alley at a brisk pace that surprised even Corven.

"Really? He’s going out right now?" Corven said with a raised brow. Then he let out a small laugh. "I guess he’s desperate."

Rose crossed her arms, still watching the man’s retreating figure. "One hundred silver? Isn’t that a bit much for a simple job?"

Corven gave a short smirk. "Being stingy with mercenaries will just end up with you being bit in the ass."

Somewhere nearby, a loud cheer erupted from a tavern, followed by the crash of shattered glass. A bard’s lute strummed out an off-key tune above it all, half drowned by street clamor.

He tapped his chin, striking a half-dramatic pose. "You need to make them know you’re a valuable client to keep."

Rose gave a small chuckle, conceding the point. "Smart... I still think it’s a bit much."