Chapter 239: Atonement
Chapter 239: Atonement
The experiments became increasingly brutal as time passed. They turned countless people into vampires, some with false promises, most without any consent at all.
It did not matter whether the subjects agreed; they would simply be killed, their Vitalis Cores removed, modified, and forced back into their bodies after Corvane changed them. But still they’ve failed again and again.
Lance or Roanna usually performed the turning, and neither of them showed hesitation.
The worst part was not even the forced transformation. It was the cruelty before it. They believed torture enhanced the blood. Physical pain, mental despair, fear; everything, they claimed, made the taste richer.
Roanna once said it openly, tilting her head with blood still staining her lips and dripping onto the marble floor while a bruised girl trembled in the corner.
"It is just like a cow beaten before slaughter. I tasted it a couple of times when I was still human. It was the best meat I ever ate. Don’t you agree?"
She said it while looking directly at Mark, knowing exactly how much it would anger him.
The girl in the corner was shaking uncontrollably, barely able to sit upright, and Roanna looked almost amused by the reaction she triggered.
Mark had brought this issue to Robert more times than he could count. Every time, Robert deflected the topic or avoided giving a clear answer. The only time he addressed it properly was during one quiet conversation in his study.
"Roanna still believes her kingdom stands and that she is still a crown princess," Robert had said with a soft chuckle.
"How foolish. With only a few carefully chosen words, she was willing to kill her own father. She was lucky the Emblem of Enigma did not exist at that time."
Robert then turned toward Mark and placed a cold hand on his shoulder. "You need to understand that I am merely using her. When both of us finally reach the truth we are searching for, she will be discarded."
"For now, endure it. It is difficult to restrain someone like her if we keep provoking her. Think of her as a child throwing a tantrum."
Mark had laughed in disbelief. "You call yourself the mastermind, yet you cannot even control your own pawn?"
For a brief second, Robert’s expression shifted. His eyes turned cold, sharp enough to cut. But the smile quickly returned.
"You are correct," he replied calmly.
"However, some pawns are better left alone to perform better until they grow arrogant enough to cross the line. When that time comes, I will make sure they understand the consequences."
It was not just a warning for Roanna. Mark clearly understood that it was meant for him as well.
From that moment, he began planning his departure. He only needed to survive until the night of his meeting with Flynn arrived.
When they finally met in the garden, as requested, Flynn was not alone. Bella stood beside him, holding a bundle carefully against her chest. Even before either of them spoke, Mark already knew what was wrapped inside the cloth.
It was a baby boy. Small, fragile, and still reddish in complexion, likely not even a week old. The resemblance was obvious; the thin strands of black hair were identical to Flynn’s.
Both Flynn and Bella looked tense, unable to hide the truth any longer.
"What have you done?" Mark whispered urgently, lowering his voice despite the panic rising in his chest.
"This is madness. If Robert finds out, he will take the child and use him for experiments. Do you understand what that means?"
The baby stirred and began to cry softly. Bella immediately tried to hush him, her hands trembling as she held him closer. The sound alone made Mark’s heart pound faster, because in this place even a small noise could invite disaster.
"Please help us. You wanted to run away from this place, didn’t you?" Flynn said, his voice breaking despite his effort to stay composed.
Mark let out a frustrated sigh and pushed his hair back roughly. "I’m not a god, Flynn. I don’t even know if I can escape him. I’ve worked under Robert for more than ten years, and I still don’t even know his Bloodstyle."
"But I do," Flynn answered quietly. "And I was able to copy it."
Mark froze. "Copy him? What do you mean by that?"
He had always suspected something had changed inside Flynn after that day in the North, after the storm let him through and the mountain accepted him. Gaining power was possible. But copying Robert? That was something else entirely.
Flynn inhaled slowly, steadying himself. "I lied before. In the North, the progressor gave me the power to survive. He knew this day would come. I am his descendant... his son. He gave me something useful, maybe for the first and the last time."
"He also said that I need to have a child," he continued.
The words hung heavy in the cold air.
"So please," Flynn continued, his eyes no longer wavering, "help us. Take my baby away from him. Take Bennet far from this place. I will become a bait for the sake of both of you."
Bella nodded through tears that finally slipped down her cheeks. "Let him leave even if we die here in the end. Tell him we love him. Tell him he is our blessing."
She kissed the baby’s small head gently. Flynn followed, pressing his lips there as if committing the warmth to memory. The baby had stopped crying, unaware of the weight of the decision being made for him.
Mark covered his mouth, disbelief mixing with something deeper... guilt, perhaps even shame.
He knew Flynn and Bella had grown close, but he had never imagined it would reach this point. A child, a future, and a fragile hope born in the middle of hell.
"You know this baby cannot survive without his mother," Mark said carefully. "He’s too young. Bella, it would be better if you came with me."
Bella shook her head immediately, even though her hands trembled. "If I disappear, Lord Latros will suspect something. He may already suspect. If he learns I was pregnant... if he finds Bennet missing... he will hunt all of you down. It’s better if I stay."
Flynn tightened his grip around her hand, giving her silent strength.
"I won’t die alone," Bella continued, forcing steadiness into her voice. "And not for nothing. You must promise us, Doctor. Save Bennet. Take him as far away from this hell as you can."
Mark looked at them for a long moment. It felt unreal how quickly they had grown. A year ago, they were still children in his eyes; subjects, assistants, pieces in a larger equation.
Now they stood before him as parents, filled with resolve and a kind of love that made them braver than any soldier.
And despite everything he had done in the name of research—despite the surgeries, the risks, the compromises—they still trusted him.
That trust hurt more than any accusation could.
For the last time, he understood what he had to do. Bennet needed to live. Not only as their son, but as proof that some part of his humanity still remained intact. As atonement for the apology he had never spoken because of pride and stubbornness.
All those years, he had told himself it was for knowledge. For humanity. For progress.
But never for the sake of his own greed and egotistical nature
And that was what he regretted the most.
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