Divine descent always had a corresponding reason; that was a very common view. The gods Shade had encountered in the past all indeed had their own reasons for appearing. For instance, the God of Gambling had answered Mister Riddell's invitation to a wager, the God of Vampires had wanted to hold a banquet, and the God of Journey had looked forward to an interesting travel story.
But considering that, the reason the Old God "Golden Master" had appeared at "Black Mist Camp" was well worth pondering carefully.
What those higher-dimensional beings valued was vastly different from what mortals imagined. Take Vampire Duke Lawell, whom Shade had encountered several times. He had laid plans across two epochs for nothing more than a cup of Blood Brew, wanting nothing else. To mortals, that was completely incomprehensible.
"Then the second question: does your religious legend involve a camp covered in black mist?"
The two men exchanged puzzled looks, then shook their heads together.
"Sorry, probably not."
"Very well. Those are all my questions."
Shade nodded and stood up. He had already achieved his purpose, but the older man stopped him.
"Sir, please wait. Are you interested in the divine arts passed down through our inheritance?"
"What do you mean? You want to sell something to me?"
He asked in surprise. The younger man nodded.
"We are not willing to trade with just anyone, but we see that you are a very valuable trading partner."
He pointed to his eyes. Shade noticed a faint glow in his brown irises. It was probably an investigative Thaumaturgy similar to the Vision Demon's Blood Echo.
"If you are willing, why not first hear what we intend to sell you?"
Shade mentally counted his assets. Since 1854, his greatest source of income had been his shares in the