Vlad had not missed how, just after delivering the final kick, Cazimir had taken out a potion vial, his dark intentions instantly becoming clear.
Maybe he was conscious from the beginning, just struggling to control his rage, but the potion confirmed his intentions.
He was going to force-feed the potion to Vlad, just as he had done to the poor souls hanging by the chains, and as for why, the answer was with the dried corpses of prisoners.
They were dead, with pale and shriveled skin and dry eyes, which did not happen just because of the potion but because most of their blood was gone.
The culprit behind their condition could only be Cazimir, a Vampire who lived on blood.
The real question was why Cazimir had been doing it.
Was he using the victims as test subjects, hoping to find someone immune to the potion's effects? Or was he feeding on their altered blood, using it to filter the elixir's power and impurities, in turn suffering fewer side effects himself?
Vlad believed it was the latter, seeing the evidence present. In the future, Cazimir was destined to become the Puppeteer, a master manipulator who controlled others through blood parasites.
But, now, he was dead.
Vlad put the potion away and began to search Cazimir's corpse. The very first thing that caught his eye was an insignia on his right shoulder guard: a silver knight whose helm was shaped like the head of an eagle, its beak curved and eyes sharp, radiating silent authority.
"House Aetherwing," Vlad recognized the insignia belonging to a powerful noble house. 'It could be a potential lead… or just mean Cazimir killed and took it from a guard when he escaped the Skyreach city dungeon.'
Vlad seared his pants before removing them completely and even removed the shoulder guard, leaving the headless vampire naked.
He quickly located the mark of a unique dagger, its pommel shaped like a skull, burned onto the back of Cazimir's shoulder, the pitch-black color confirming he had been convicted of murder.
But aside from that branded mark, Vlad found nothing else of note.
He focused on the rings he wore, one epic-grade combat accessory and the other a space ring. He put the houd-faced ring in his inventory and checked the content of the space ring.
He found some gold, silver, and other mislaid items, including but not limited to weapons, armor, and food, likely the scavenged items of Casimir's victims.
Beside them, he also found thirty-one vials of the horrid potion inside, but that was all. Vlad found nothing that could act as a clue that could lead him to the Deceiver.
A bit disappointed, Vlad gave the space ring one last look, his eyes freezing on the markings inside the inner band.
'M&M? Myrrh & Mercury Traders,' Vlad murmured, recognizing the logo belonging to a reputable merchant company.
It was nothing strange to find a mark on a space ring, as most adventurers had their own name or party emblem engraved on theirs, and companies also did the same for the rings issued to their employees.
Though rare, the ring proved nothing since Casimir could have killed and taken it from a company official.
Vlad placed the ring in his inventory and approached the mechanism that held the chains aloft. He stopped at the first winch, its wheel half-consumed by rust, patches of black mold clinging to the iron like rot.
He grasped the corroded handle, the metal biting cold against his fingers, and gave it a firm push. With a groan of strained metal, the wheel turned, slowly unwinding the chain and lowering one of the withered bodies toward the ground.
The wheel stopped when the body was inches above the ground, and then Vlad quickly moved toward the poor soul. He checked his neck and found two small marks, confirming his speculation.
He removed his shirt and began to examine for anything that he was not familiar with but found nothing.
He repeated the same process eight more times, taking down all of the hanging victims. After he was satisfied with his search, Vlad found a vast, half-collapsed pit left behind by the miners.
He began placing the bodies inside, one by one, careful not to worsen their already terrible body state.
Vlad didn't have to bury them, and he was not planning to do it at first, but after spending decades as a soldier, he knew every soldier wished for a grave.
A place to return to the earth. A place where the body could dissolve quietly into nature without further indignity.
He was no different.
Even though they were just NPCs, he couldn't leave them to rot, not after they had already suffered tremendously. Vlad worked in silence, lowering each broken form and gently laying it in the old mining pit.
A final resting place, if nothing else.
These were not the only bodies in the mine, so after placing the last one in the grave, Vlad began to explore the mine, searching for bodies but more so for anything useful for his real goal.
After searching around, he found four more corpses, in far more broken state than others, and even some beasts, showing that Cazimir had tested on them with no success.
He placed the four bodies in the grave and moved onto the passage that led to another section of the mine.
It was a large chamber drowned in darkness. Vlad use a few light crystals to illuminate the area, discovering old carts piled in one corner, their wheels long since broken.
Pieces of shattered mining equipment were scattered like bones across the stone floor. A few more human and beast corpses lay piled in one far corner.
But Vlad's eyes were locked on the front wall.
It was covered in deep claw marks that came together as Names, Curses, and Threats.
"Guard Captain Alric Dun," one read, carved deep with clear anger as dried blood still clung to the grooves. "Silver-haired bastard, I will skin you myself."
"I will rip your family apart, one by one, make you watch as I drown in their blood, laughing. I'll smear their names in gore and feed their bones to rats."
"Skyreach will burn. I will drown it in corpses and blood."
"And that smug dog Elarcrest, he is already dead. His body just hasn't figured it out yet."
"That pale-skinned bastard. That long-eared, tree-born filth. I will peel the smile off his face and nail him to the wall."
"I'll make him regret the day he first cried in the cradle. I'll carve his soul apart, inch by inch. He will beg for death until his throat turns raw, but death won't come."
"Not for him. Never for him."
The fury in the words was evident, and while there were other threats and curses, Vlad only focused on these because he knew of them.
A slow grin spread across Vlad's face because this was the clue he had been looking for, a solid lead that would help him bring down the Deceiver.
"As thanks..." Vlad said softly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, "I will put every one of these soulless bastards into the ground."
'If Duke Elarcrest is helping the Deceiver, then it explains how he was able to stay hidden and create a shop in the city of Thalmaris without facing any resistance,' Vlad reasoned, the once-hidden pieces falling into place, forming a picture that was finally becoming clear.
As for why a Duke would risk his status by getting involved with an enemy of the empire, the answer was clear to Vlad.
'So he could become the Grand Duke,' Vlad concluded, but he also understood another possibility. 'Or… he doesn't even realize what kind of monster he is helping to grow.'
Duke Elarcrest was likely helping the Deceiver after seeing potential in his work, thinking he would have a monopoly over his amazing potion when it was perfected.
However, Vlad also questioned one thing: if this was how the events had unfolded in his past life, then why hadn't Duke Elarcrest come forward to take credit?
After all, for nobles, public recognition and the respect of the people often mattered more than gold.
And yet, the Duke had remained silent.
He would understand if it was a guild because no player guild, not if they were not in the top seven, would wish to reveal such a partnership to the public because it would only attract rivals, poachers, and political vultures.
The guild would be forced to make bad deals with bigger powers, and this was exactly the reason everyone thought that a big guild was helping the Deceiver with materials in his experimentation phase.
And, after the harrowing events, they concluded it was a guild, but they knew what fate awaited the world.
As for why a guild, because only they had the workforce to supply the required materials to produce thousands of potions and have the cold hearts to kill millions for their own benefit.
Or, it was the Cult of Anarchy that orchestrated everything, and given the current leads, their involvement seemed more likely than not.