Cain quietly massaged his temple.
The headache still had not disappeared.
If anything—
It had worsened ever since sensing traces of that old curse monster's authority earlier underground.
Even now, faint discomfort crawled throughout his consciousness continuously like invisible needles pressing against the back of his mind.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Cain hated curses.
Not because he feared them.
But because they were troublesome.
Sticky.
Persistent.
And that old bastard specialized in the most irritating kind of black curse authority imaginable.
Even after removing every trace carefully underground, Cain still felt mentally exhausted from dealing with it.
Meanwhile above—
The atmosphere throughout the vampire realm continued becoming increasingly tense.
The surrounding Ascendant race leaders still probed GrandLord Dreath and the others continuously while the dark clouds overhead churned endlessly like living darkness swallowing the sky itself.
