Just call me Thor

Chapter 514: Heaven Pavilion



Mike returned to his private space.

As soon as he arrived, he was greeted by the sight of a pig hanging from the loft.

Mike: ???

"Higher, higher! Yes, that's it!" Vladimir was down below, directing a group of workers who were busy constructing the loft.

Gabriel, standing nearby, looked puzzled and asked, "Is this really what he meant?"

"Trust me, I know my master!" Vladimir patted his chest confidently. "If this isn't what he wanted, I'll hang myself up there!"

A cold voice came from behind him, "Go ahead, hang yourself."

Vladimir: ???

Oh no, when did Thor get back?

Mike looked ahead. What had once been an empty space now had a tall pavilion standing in it. "Master, did I do something wrong?" Vladimir asked as he began tying himself up, still trying to flatter Mike. "I built this pavilion and named it Heaven Pavilion. What do you think?"

Heaven Pavilion?

Interesting.

Vladimir finished tying himself up and found himself hanging across from the golden pig. "Lilith, we meet again," Vladimir said with a sly smile.

Lilith, the golden pig, looked utterly confused. "Huh? Do we know each other?"

"As expected, you don't remember me." Vladimir forced what he thought was a friendly smile. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Vladimir, the rightful vampire destined to kill Dracula!" Lilith eyed him warily. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

Just because you say you're the rightful vampire doesn't make it true!

"Hold on a second," Vladimir muttered to himself, "I'm a pig, I'm a pig..."

Soon enough, there were two pigs hanging from the Heaven Pavilion.

Lilith stared at the sudden appearance of another pig, completely bewildered.

Vladimir flashed a wicked grin. "See? I'm the real deal!"

...

With two pigs hanging from the pavilion, anyone who didn't know better might think Mike was curing hams.

Dracula walked through the empty pavilion, with Gabriel following behind him. Dracula, having been resurrected, kept his distance, his face dark with frustration.

In the entire private space, Dracula found it hard to find anyone who wasn't a sycophant. The only person he could have a decent conversation with was Gabriel.

Dracula climbed to the top of the pavilion and looked out over the private space. "Heaven Pavilion? It's too small-minded."

Gabriel spoke seriously, "The heavens encompass all things, and there's still the sky above." Ever since learning about the existence of the Heavenly Realm, Dracula's ambitions had grown beyond just this world.

Gabriel frowned slightly and asked, "Are you thinking of building a paradise?"

"That's just an idea. Let's focus on more realistic goals for now," Dracula waved his hand dismissively and continued, "What kind of place is the Heavenly Realm?"

"It's a paradise, a land of bliss, a sinless sanctuary where there is no death or war..." Gabriel recited a long list of descriptions before concluding, "That's how it's recorded in the angelic scriptures."

Dracula countered, "I'm guessing none of them have actually been to the Heavenly Realm, right?"

In Dracula's eyes, the Heavenly Realm didn't seem all that great.

Gabriel nodded. "Correct."

"Do you believe it?"

"No," Gabriel shook her head.

They were both too smart to believe in fairy tales and myths. After all, in some ways, they themselves were the stuff of legends.

Sitting at the top of the pavilion, Dracula gazed into the distance, silent.

After a while, a loud squeal echoed from the pavilion.

"Let me down! Let me down!" Lilith protested. "It's time for my late-night snack!"

Lilith never missed an opportunity for a snack.

"Go," Mike waved his hand, and Lilith was gently lowered to the ground, where she immediately began enjoying her late-night snack.

"She really is a pig..." Mike muttered.

...

Meanwhile, Wolf's Den was as lively as ever.

After returning from the thirty-eighth floor, Maxen knew that Thor wouldn't be coming by for a while. This was his time to enjoy some peace and quiet.

Before long, Light Nine arrived.

As soon as the two met, Maxen couldn't wait to share what he had seen and heard that day.

"Man, I was so wrong before!" Maxen slapped his thigh in frustration. "Shepherd isn't even human! He's a devil..."

Maxen recounted everything he had witnessed Shepherd do, embellishing the story as he went along. Of course, to protect Thor's identity, Maxen left out several key details.

After hearing Maxen's story, Light Nine nodded slowly. "You're absolutely right!"

If what Maxen said was true, then Shepherd was indeed despicable! No wonder Master Dream had warned that someone was leading Maxen astray. Judging by Maxen's current state, he had clearly been deeply affected.

Light Nine felt a deep sense of sympathy.

"It's a shame you didn't meet my Master Dream sooner!" Light Nine said. "If you had, he

could have helped you deal with this trouble."

Maxen chuckled but didn't respond. In his mind, the Master Dream that Light Nine spoke of was 99.99% likely to be his own Godfather, Morpheus.

Light Nine then said earnestly, "Bro, I need to report this to my Master Dream."

"Go ahead, report it!" Maxen waved his hand, then added, "Just don't mention that I told you.

Actually, I'll leave now, just in case Shepherd finds out I'm snitching..."

Clearly, Maxen had developed a deep psychological fear of Shepherd.

Not wanting to leave any evidence behind, Maxen left in a hurry.

After Maxen left, Light Nine found a private space and contacted Master Dream.

"Master Dream, I've made a major discovery."

Hearing Light Nine's words, Mike's heart skipped a beat.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

*Could it be? Has he found out who's been giving Maxen those terrible ideas?*

Mike, still disguised as Master Dream, was thrilled. His disciple Light Nine was proving to be

quite reliable. In just one day, he had gathered so much information!

"Tell me," Mike said, adopting a posture of eager anticipation.

"I'm almost certain that the bad influence around Maxen..." Light Nine's tone was serious and meticulous. "...isn't human. It's a ghost race!"

Mike's brow furrowed. This is more complicated than I thought.

Ghost race? That was different from the demon race.

In some ways, the demon race was a broad term used to refer to beings that had undergone demonization or fallen from grace. For example, the Eighth Demon God that Mike had killed was originally from the Chaos race but became a demon god after demonization. Master Fool was also part of the demon race, though it was unclear what race she had been before her

transformation.

With Light Nine's intel, Mike quickly narrowed down the possibilities.

"Is it that black mist?" Mike wondered aloud.

The black mist that had taken over the fortieth floor was a complex entity, likely part of the

ghost race.

The more Mike thought about it, the more it made sense!

The black mist, having escaped from the Supreme Abyssal, must have secretly contacted Maxen and planted the idea of Golden Abyss in his mind, leading to Mike's current suffering!

"Fantastic! I'm starting to understand everything!" Mike gritted his teeth in anger, itching to rush to the fortieth floor and fry the black mist with lightning.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Mike looked into the distance, where several weak

figures appeared in the void.

These were the workers Mike had spent nearly a million Lord merits on-his newly purchased

labor force.

"The goods have arrived."

The five vampire elders, all level 989, were powerful and held high status. Everyone knew that

vampires were a particularly proud race, and subduing them would likely be a challenge.

Mike, ever the merciful one, sighed. "I'm not really good at this kind of thing. Better let someone else handle it."

With that, Mike sent a message to Dracula, promoting him to overseer and putting him in charge of managing the vampire elders.

After dispatching Dracula, Mike casually used a Thunderclap Strike to restore Vladimir to his

vampire form.

"Go, bring those vampires back."

...

At one of the entrances to Thor's private space, five weak figures appeared one after another. They cautiously surveyed their surroundings, keeping a safe distance from each other.

An old man with a haggard face and a sinister expression spoke in a raspy voice, "Ahem, about

our time in the Mystic Market, everyone..."

Before he could finish, the other four quickly nodded.

"Keep it secret, absolutely secret!"

As vampire elders, they held incredibly high status. And yet, what had happened to them?

At the Mystic Market, they had been treated like cargo, even having their blood drawn

regularly!

It was a disgrace, the greatest humiliation of their lives!

One elder grumbled bitterly, "One day, I'll..."

"Shut your damn mouth!" the leader of the group snapped. "You still dare to hold a grudge

against the Mystic Market?"

The Mystic Market was notorious for its ruthless dealings across all races. Did anyone really

think it thrived on a reputation for fair trade?

Nonsense!

It thrived on the name Apollo!

After their miserable experience at the Mystic Market, the five elders had gained a new

understanding of what it meant to be at the mercy of a Supreme Being.

As long as Apollo was alive, they had no chance of revenge.

"I wonder who's lucky enough to have bought us," the leader mused coldly. "If we want to

regain our freedom, we'll need to work together and get through this."

They were big shots in the blood clan. Though they had fallen on hard times, they still had a

chance to rise again!

Even though they hadn't yet met their new master, the vampires were already plotting their

escape. "Among the Thirteen Clans, our five clans are the strongest," said an elder with a rose embroidered on his collar. "If we work together, the revival of the blood clan is within reach!"

Hearing this, the other elders' hearts burned with excitement, and they couldn't help but

fantasize.

The Blood Ancestor was missing, and Dracula had disappeared too!

This was the perfect opportunity. If they could escape this place and establish their own faction, the position of Blood Ancestor would be theirs for the taking!

A bright future awaited them.

Just as the five elders were lost in their daydreams, an untimely sound interrupted them.

Thud!

One of the elders on the outer edge suddenly dropped to his knees!

What was going on?

"What are you doing? Even if we've been bought, they haven't bought our dignity!" snapped

the elder with the wine glass embroidered on his sleeve. "If you keep disgracing us like this, I'll call for an Elders Council meeting to strip you of your noble vampire status..." His words trailed off, stuck in his throat, as he found himself unable to speak another word.

A young vampire, unfamiliar to them, had appeared beside the group without them noticing. The elder's eyes widened in shock, as if he had seen a ghost!

Another elder reacted even more dramatically. Trembling, he pointed a shaky finger at the

newcomer and stammered, "D-D-Drac..."

Thud!

He didn't kneel. Instead, he fainted on the spot, his eyes rolling back in terror.

But the name he hadn't managed to say echoed in everyone's minds:

Dracula!

The prince, the most feared figure among all vampires, the man known as the guardian of the

Blood Ancestor!

Of course, Dracula himself scoffed at that last title and never mentioned it voluntarily.

One by one, the elders knelt, though each had their own unique style.

Some knelt on one knee, placing their right hand over their heart. They had once sworn loyalty

to Dracula and vowed to follow him to the death.

Others knelt on both knees, their faces pale as if they were mourning their own deaths. Falling

into Dracula's hands meant they would be lucky to escape with their lives.

Still others knelt and crawled forward, eager to lick Dracula's boots, their sycophantic

intentions clear as day.

"No wonder they're vampires," came a voice from behind Dracula. "Even when they kneel,

they manage to do it in so many different ways."

The voice belonged to a man the elders found vaguely familiar.

One of them, gathering his courage, looked up and gasped.

"It's you!" Clearly, one of the vampire elders had recognized Vladimir.

"Surprising, isn't it? Someone actually remembers me," Vladimir said, his face full of

curiosity. "I've had some memory issues lately, so I can't quite recall who I am. Care to

remind me?"

Mike, who happened to be passing by, perked up his ears, not wanting to miss a single word.

The elder hesitated, his face pale and his words faltering.

Dracula spoke coldly, "I'll pardon you."

No matter how forbidden the information might be, Dracula was willing to hear it.

Even with Dracula's assurance, the elder still hesitated, clenching his teeth in fear.

Dracula smirked and changed tactics. "If you don't speak, you can die."

No vampire could face the threat of death without breaking.

"I'll talk!" the elder cried out, sweat pouring down his face as he prepared to reveal the truth.

What he said next made Vladimir's face darken, as if he had just swallowed something foul. "You, the great Vladimir, were the Blood Ancestor's... head concubine."

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