Damien stood there in the middle of the bridge. The cold January wind whipped his hair and rustled his clothes. From afar, the bandits eyed Damien with weary expressions. As residents of the north, their parents have sung tales of vampires since they were young. If Damien's slightly unusual white hair or blood-red eyes weren't a giveaway, his name…
Nightshade
The Vampire Royal Family. They have guarded the Kazimir mountains for centuries, imprisoning the people of Kassinki and Oshal to this backwater part of the continent. Their continued survival depends on human greed; if the two Kingdoms teamed up and launched a joint attack, then the Nightshade's rule would fall.
Straightening his back, Damien shouted across the bridge, "Is this how peasants greet their ruler? Kneel!"
The group of 'bandits' looked at each other. Their tired eyes and sunken skin due to malnutrition showed signs of resistance. Although they were country bumpkins, they still had pride.
An elderly man who appeared to be the leader walked forward, he had broad shoulders and an athletic build, but his hair was thinning from age.
"Nobody has lorded over this land for many years, the crown has abandoned us, yet a vampire, the very cause of this land's deprived state, has the audacity to come forward and order us to grovel at your feet?"
The man shouted from his very soul, the passion of his words spilling out into his speech. "The vampires raided our villages every night, forcing us to retreat south as refugees, yet despite repeated cries for help to the capital, we were ignored, abandoned. The last noble assigned here exploited us and the land with high taxes, yet when the threat of the vampires reached his doorstep, he turned tail and ran, leaving us for death!"
Damien briefly threw his arms in the air, and if one looked closely, one would notice many metal cards flying into the sky, but they disappeared into the sun's warm light as if they were a mere illusion.
Beldroth flanked Damien's side, ready to provide protection. Although he debated if Damien even needed it, the silver robe and ring were a testament to his advanced knowledge and potential applications of the arcane.
Varn nervously departed from the car and covered Damien's back.
"Old man, let me tell you a secret about this world…" Damien said as he casually walked forward, his silver cape flapping in the wind, "The strong do not require justification for their actions. Their word is law. You have been reduced to this pathetic state since you dared to live next to a den of monsters."
"Would you feel sorry for a pack of wolves that were hunted down and killed by humans? To vampires, you are nothing but prey, livestock even. So now I give you two choices."
"Either, you wash away your worthless pride and kneel before a superior existence. Then, I will welcome you under my umbrella of protection, and we may prosper together into the future."
Damien's noble aura flared up as a wicked smile appeared on his face, "Or die under my foot like the miserable mutt you are. So? What will it be?"
The old man's face was red with rage. He had watched his family slowly disappear over the years, with him being the sole survivor of his bloodline. As a boy in a farming village, his life was supposed to be a simple and peaceful one. Yet the entire northern region is the hunting grounds for the vampires. After repeated droughts, the land became infertile, so the kingdom reduced its support and pulled back its soldiers, causing the situation to take a dire turn for the worse.
This bastard vampire dares to look down on him after all that and call him weak? How could someone who has been hunted their entire life and survived through multiple famines be considered weak?
The people around him, fellow villagers without homes to return to, murmured curses from the vampire's words. They felt personally attacked and felt their suffering was being looked down upon.
The elderly man saw his life flash before his eyes. He took a deep breath and said with a resolution, "I refuse."
Damien's eyes flashed with murderous intent, "Do you know why the weak should fear the strong…" he said as he raised his arm, "once I have decided to end your story, it shall be so."
Damien opened his palm and then closed it into a ball. The old man felt an immense wave of invasive mana slam into him from all directions. As a simple village boy, he never had the chance to train his mana or discover his affinity when he was younger. The tiny amount of mana lying dormant in his mana circuit surged forward to combat the invading mana, but it was futile.
The old man felt like he was trying to halt a tsunami by throwing a cup of water. His body was quickly overwhelmed by Damien's psychic mana. His body was lifted into the air by his clothes, his limbs flailing around helplessly.
The old man made eye contact with Damien, both hate and awe in his eyes, "So this is the power of those elusive mages that stand above the rest…" the old man muttered with his final breath.
Damien smiled, "May your death be a lesson to those ignorant fools behind you." Then, with a quick clench of his hand, the old man's clothes rapidly shrunk, causing his body to squeeze and crack in impossible ways.
Soon, the elderly man's robust body was reduced to a bloody clump of organs and tissue, wrapped in dyed red cloth. Finally, Damien released his control, and the bundle dropped to the bridge below, dying the sandstone a dark red.
Damien then turned to the group of refugees once again, "Listen well, this is my ultimatum. Serve or Die."
The group murmured to each other and with shaky legs, they dropped to the floor. While on their knees, the group bowed as if welcoming a tyrant. Sobbing and curses could be heard, but Damien paid it no heed. He had completed his objective.
Damien spun around on his heel, with his back now facing the fortress. He eyed the 'elite' knights he had been given as guards. Their previous arrogant expressions had vanished, and instead, a hint of fear remained.
"Time is ticking away. The poison inches ever closer to your souls." Damien said with a smirk. They all showed shocked expressions under their helmets. The elite knight's captain was a mage and therefore didn't have a helmet on. Although he was only C rank in earth magic, his tactics and commanding ability were highly praised by Prince August. As an Earth Mage, he was confident in his defensive skills, so he preferred to wear only light-weight leather armour.
He stepped forward with a determined expression, "Whatever do you mean by your cryptic words, Duke Nightshade?" he said calmly, but anyone with eyes could see the knights had hostile motives towards Damien.
The threat of the refugees had passed. They had surrendered. Yet apart from Beldroth, not a single knight stood forward and offered their services to Damien. They had instead raised their weapons and begun to prepare spells.
Beldroth shouted out, "Vice-Captain, what is the meaning of this? Lower your weapons immediately! This is treason!"
The vice-captain gave Beldroth a smug smile, "The prince sends his regards…" with that said, the vice-captain raised his arm in the air, "Attack-" he yelled. Yet his eyes widened in shock as his head fell from his body onto the cold stone bridge below.
Silence.
The man's body toppled over, and a fountain of blood spewed from his neck. Varn saw this and knew it was the signal to fight.
The bloody metal card that had effortlessly decapitated the vice-captain, that lay quietly on the floor, began to shudder before shooting out once more. This time, finding the hand of another mage and slicing it cleanly off.
Yet this lone card was not abandoned in its battle. Damien ascended to the skies above and simultaneously sent out his entire arsenal of weapons at the elite knights below. The elite knight's enchanted armour harmlessly deflected many. Spells blocked others. But amongst the chaos, an unseen blade is the deadliest. Weak spots are inevitable, and a neglected weapon can make full use of blind spots in a formation. One of the knights noticed this dilemma and took charge of the situation, "All mages attack the Duke now! Knights gather around me!"
The knights scrambling around, trying to avoid the flying weapons, quickly ran towards the knight's location. The knights formed tightly around the mages as they channelled various spells directed at Damien.
Yet as the spells shot out through the air, the weaker spells seemed to slow and dissipate into pure and undirected mana.
One of the mages stopped gazing at Damien's opposing form in the sky and instead looked down and noticed Varn, a small purple kobold wielding mana that appeared raw and unchained to the mage's trained eye. The mage nudged an archer crouching next to him and pointed towards Varn.
"Shoot that fucker. That Kobold is disrupting our spells." The archer nodded and grabbed his bow, drawing the string tight till his shoulder. He peaked out from the formation and aimed directly at Varn. Once the archer was sure of his aim…
With a grin, he released his hand and let the arrow fly.
XKARNATION Advanced Chapters: Patreon
Damien stood there in the middle of the bridge. The cold January wind whipped his hair and rustled his clothes. From afar, the bandits eyed Damien with weary expressions. As residents of the north, their parents have sung tales of vampires since they were young. If Damien's slightly unusual white hair or blood-red eyes weren't a giveaway, his name…
Nightshade
The Vampire Royal Family. They have guarded the Kazimir mountains for centuries, imprisoning the people of Kassinki and Oshal to this backwater part of the continent. Their continued survival depends on human greed; if the two Kingdoms teamed up and launched a joint attack, then the Nightshade's rule would fall.
Straightening his back, Damien shouted across the bridge, "Is this how peasants greet their ruler? Kneel!"
The group of 'bandits' looked at each other. Their tired eyes and sunken skin due to malnutrition showed signs of resistance. Although they were country bumpkins, they still had pride.
An elderly man who appeared to be the leader walked forward, he had broad shoulders and an athletic build, but his hair was thinning from age.
"Nobody has lorded over this land for many years, the crown has abandoned us, yet a vampire, the very cause of this land's deprived state, has the audacity to come forward and order us to grovel at your feet?"
The man shouted from his very soul, the passion of his words spilling out into his speech. "The vampires raided our villages every night, forcing us to retreat south as refugees, yet despite repeated cries for help to the capital, we were ignored, abandoned. The last noble assigned here exploited us and the land with high taxes, yet when the threat of the vampires reached his doorstep, he turned tail and ran, leaving us for death!"
Damien briefly threw his arms in the air, and if one looked closely, one would notice many metal cards flying into the sky, but they disappeared into the sun's warm light as if they were a mere illusion.
Beldroth flanked Damien's side, ready to provide protection. Although he debated if Damien even needed it, the silver robe and ring were a testament to his advanced knowledge and potential applications of the arcane.
Varn nervously departed from the car and covered Damien's back.
"Old man, let me tell you a secret about this world…" Damien said as he casually walked forward, his silver cape flapping in the wind, "The strong do not require justification for their actions. Their word is law. You have been reduced to this pathetic state since you dared to live next to a den of monsters."
"Would you feel sorry for a pack of wolves that were hunted down and killed by humans? To vampires, you are nothing but prey, livestock even. So now I give you two choices."
"Either, you wash away your worthless pride and kneel before a superior existence. Then, I will welcome you under my umbrella of protection, and we may prosper together into the future."
Damien's noble aura flared up as a wicked smile appeared on his face, "Or die under my foot like the miserable mutt you are. So? What will it be?"
The old man's face was red with rage. He had watched his family slowly disappear over the years, with him being the sole survivor of his bloodline. As a boy in a farming village, his life was supposed to be a simple and peaceful one. Yet the entire northern region is the hunting grounds for the vampires. After repeated droughts, the land became infertile, so the kingdom reduced its support and pulled back its soldiers, causing the situation to take a dire turn for the worse.
This bastard vampire dares to look down on him after all that and call him weak? How could someone who has been hunted their entire life and survived through multiple famines be considered weak?
The people around him, fellow villagers without homes to return to, murmured curses from the vampire's words. They felt personally attacked and felt their suffering was being looked down upon.
The elderly man saw his life flash before his eyes. He took a deep breath and said with a resolution, "I refuse."
Damien's eyes flashed with murderous intent, "Do you know why the weak should fear the strong…" he said as he raised his arm, "once I have decided to end your story, it shall be so."
Damien opened his palm and then closed it into a ball. The old man felt an immense wave of invasive mana slam into him from all directions. As a simple village boy, he never had the chance to train his mana or discover his affinity when he was younger. The tiny amount of mana lying dormant in his mana circuit surged forward to combat the invading mana, but it was futile.
The old man felt like he was trying to halt a tsunami by throwing a cup of water. His body was quickly overwhelmed by Damien's psychic mana. His body was lifted into the air by his clothes, his limbs flailing around helplessly.
The old man made eye contact with Damien, both hate and awe in his eyes, "So this is the power of those elusive mages that stand above the rest…" the old man muttered with his final breath.
Damien smiled, "May your death be a lesson to those ignorant fools behind you." Then, with a quick clench of his hand, the old man's clothes rapidly shrunk, causing his body to squeeze and crack in impossible ways.
Soon, the elderly man's robust body was reduced to a bloody clump of organs and tissue, wrapped in dyed red cloth. Finally, Damien released his control, and the bundle dropped to the bridge below, dying the sandstone a dark red.
Damien then turned to the group of refugees once again, "Listen well, this is my ultimatum. Serve or Die."
The group murmured to each other and with shaky legs, they dropped to the floor. While on their knees, the group bowed as if welcoming a tyrant. Sobbing and curses could be heard, but Damien paid it no heed. He had completed his objective.
Damien spun around on his heel, with his back now facing the fortress. He eyed the 'elite' knights he had been given as guards. Their previous arrogant expressions had vanished, and instead, a hint of fear remained.
"Time is ticking away. The poison inches ever closer to your souls." Damien said with a smirk. They all showed shocked expressions under their helmets. The elite knight's captain was a mage and therefore didn't have a helmet on. Although he was only C rank in earth magic, his tactics and commanding ability were highly praised by Prince August. As an Earth Mage, he was confident in his defensive skills, so he preferred to wear only light-weight leather armour.
He stepped forward with a determined expression, "Whatever do you mean by your cryptic words, Duke Nightshade?" he said calmly, but anyone with eyes could see the knights had hostile motives towards Damien.
The threat of the refugees had passed. They had surrendered. Yet apart from Beldroth, not a single knight stood forward and offered their services to Damien. They had instead raised their weapons and begun to prepare spells.
Beldroth shouted out, "Vice-Captain, what is the meaning of this? Lower your weapons immediately! This is treason!"
The vice-captain gave Beldroth a smug smile, "The prince sends his regards…" with that said, the vice-captain raised his arm in the air, "Attack-" he yelled. Yet his eyes widened in shock as his head fell from his body onto the cold stone bridge below.
Silence.
The man's body toppled over, and a fountain of blood spewed from his neck. Varn saw this and knew it was the signal to fight.
The bloody metal card that had effortlessly decapitated the vice-captain, that lay quietly on the floor, began to shudder before shooting out once more. This time, finding the hand of another mage and slicing it cleanly off.
Yet this lone card was not abandoned in its battle. Damien ascended to the skies above and simultaneously sent out his entire arsenal of weapons at the elite knights below. The elite knight's enchanted armour harmlessly deflected many. Spells blocked others. But amongst the chaos, an unseen blade is the deadliest. Weak spots are inevitable, and a neglected weapon can make full use of blind spots in a formation. One of the knights noticed this dilemma and took charge of the situation, "All mages attack the Duke now! Knights gather around me!"
The knights scrambling around, trying to avoid the flying weapons, quickly ran towards the knight's location. The knights formed tightly around the mages as they channelled various spells directed at Damien.
Yet as the spells shot out through the air, the weaker spells seemed to slow and dissipate into pure and undirected mana.
One of the mages stopped gazing at Damien's opposing form in the sky and instead looked down and noticed Varn, a small purple kobold wielding mana that appeared raw and unchained to the mage's trained eye. The mage nudged an archer crouching next to him and pointed towards Varn.
"Shoot that fucker. That Kobold is disrupting our spells." The archer nodded and grabbed his bow, drawing the string tight till his shoulder. He peaked out from the formation and aimed directly at Varn. Once the archer was sure of his aim…
With a grin, he released his hand and let the arrow fly.
XKARNATION Advanced Chapters: Patreon
