"Thousands of years have passed since last I was called upon. Tell me, Child, why do you present a life to me, the Seraph of Death?"
The Seraph of Death gazed at Anik with a faint sense of amusement.
After countless millennia, this was the first summoning to which He had chosen to respond.
"Perhaps you do not fully grasp what you have done, but you called upon My name, and I have answered your prayer—a prayer that offered a blood to me, the blood of the dead."
The Seraph of Death began to circle Anik, the river of blood surging and spreading around him, forming a suffocating bubble that enveloped Anik entirely.
Anik thrashed and struggled, trying to swim free from the crimson tide, but no matter how hard he fought, he could not escape the blood that held him captive.
The Seraph of Death let out a dark, echoing laugh, thoroughly amused by the sight of Anik struggling, nearly drowning in His River of Blood.
For a moment, He was so entertained that He nearly forgot why He had come to this land and responded to Anik's desperate prayer.
With a snap of His fingers, the River of Blood erupted, drenching Anik in crimson and leaving him gasping for air, his body stained and trembling.
"Tell me, Child, what is your name?"
Anik gazed up at Him, his eyes shadowed with fear, and in a voice so faint it was almost inaudible, he whispered.
"Before I prayed to you, I abandoned my name..."
Anik met the gaze of the Seraph of Death directly, his eyes steady and unwavering.
"I don't have a name…"
Anik now saw himself as a nameless child—a symbol of rebirth.
The Seraph of Death let out a deep, resonant laugh.
Even He, a Seraph, bore a name, for all things in existence were defined by one.
Yet this child had cast his aside, choosing to live without an identity—a fool's path, akin to not existing at all.
To be nameless was to be forgotten, to fade into oblivion, to become one with the abyss.
The Seraph of Death let out a weary sigh, His gaze sweeping across the chaotic scene before Him.
The humans around Him had descended into savagery, their actions beastly in this gruesome Festival of Blood.
It was a grim spectacle, yet one that served as the necessary condition for His descent into this world.
"Now that I am here, speak, Child—what is it you wish to trade? But heed this: I accept only an equal exchange."
Anik stared at the Seraph of Death, his expression filled with confusion.
He knew nothing of this "Trade," and even if it required an equal exchange, he had nothing of value to offer.
"As a Seraph of Death who rules over blood, I deal only in Blood Essence. Typically, I claim the Blood Essence of those Marked by Death itself."
The Seraph of Death gazed at Anik's body, suggesting that it is Anik's Blood Essence he desires.
"But you're not dead yet. Since this is my first descent in a thousand years, I will make an exception for you: you can either offer the Blood Essence of your deceased family or the Blood Essence of someone you have killed with your own hands."
The Seraph of Death glanced at Anik with mockery, alternating his gaze with the beheaded body before him.
"What will happen to the deceased person that I will trade to you?"
The Seraph of Death smiled and said nothing.
Anik lowered his head, a smile spreading across his face.
"I wish... no... I'll trade a Blood Essence in exchange for my Life."
The Seraph of Death paused, momentarily stunned, then burst into maniacal laughter, locking his gaze directly into Anik's eyes.
"Isn't it ironic to call upon Me, the Seraph of Death, to grant you Life? Why not seek the God of Life instead? But no matter, the Trade is complete. I will grant you the power to live... though living indefinitely is not mine to decide. Even I, a Seraph, cannot control Fate—not even Gods themselves."
As the Seraph of Death moved toward the beheaded man and raised his arm, Anik intervened, stopping him.
"It's not my father's Blood Essence that I wish to trade."
Anik pointed to the dead man lying beside his father, clutching his own neck.
The Seraph of Death stared at Anik, stunned.
Even he, a Seraph, could hardly believe that Anik had offered another man's soul.
There was only one conclusion: the nameless child was the one who had killed the man.
The Seraph of Death glanced at Anik, then at the dead man.
He raised his arm, clenched his fist, and pulled something out of thin air.
The dead man rose—no, it was his bloody projection that rose, while his lifeless body remained on the ground.
The bloody projection of the dead man stared at the child mockingly, as though he were still alive.
Before he could lunge at the kneeling child, crimson chains coiled around his arms, legs, and neck.
The chains glow, and the sound of sizzling flesh—no, a sizzling blood—filled the air, accompanied by the man's agonized wails.
The bloody projection frantically tried to tear the chains from his neck, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't break free.
Slowly, the bloody projection was dragged toward the Seraph of Death, screaming, laughing, and shouting in desperation.
Despite his violent thrashing and resistance, the chains held firm, pulling him inevitably into the River of Blood beneath the Seraph.
The ravings faded, and a serene silence settled in their place.
"At last... a sinner's essence has joined My Kingdom after a thousand years..."
The Seraph of Death rested His hand on Anik's temple.
"The price has been paid. As the Seraph of Death, I bless you, a Child with No Name..."
Anik's body froze, and moments later, uncontrollable spasms wracked his frame.
The Mark of Death, which he had painted on his body using his own blood, began to sink into his skin.
Gritting his teeth, Anik was overwhelmed by unbearable pain and a searing, burning sensation that consumed his entire being.
The irises of his eyes started to stain with blood, and his tears of blood reversed as if they had never fallen.
Gasping for air, weakened and trembling, Anik collapsed with a thud, slipping into unconsciousness.
The Seraph of Death turned away, a mocking smile curling on his lips as he spoke.
"Let this world dye with Crimson, and you... a Blessed of Death, will dye it for us..."