The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon
Chapter 17: The Vampire Teaches A Lesson

"Do you want to know what the greatest problem with vampires is?" Marcus asked.

Ivar remained silent, and Marcus bit back a smile. The young half-blood was one of the most magnificently skilled archers that Marcus had ever seen, but he was also a bit of a sourpuss. Oh well. Marcus knew better than most what an unfulfilled quest for vengeance did to somebody's personality.

Hopefully, he'd cheer up after tonight. Half-bloods might only live two or three times as long as humans, but he didn't want the younger man to spend even that span of time all grumpy and resentful. Marcus had also come to quite like Ivar. The young man was skilled, went about his work without complaint, and was actually loyal – a true rarity amongst vampires and those who associated with them.

Ideally, Ivar would serve well until his age began to weary him before agreeing to be fully turned. If things went according to plan, he would make the jump straight up to elder vampire although a leap all the way to ancient vampire might be possible with the right preparations and a bit of luck. But he could worry about those later. Right now, they had an ancient vampire to kill and a coven to take over.

"Please enlighten me, my lord." Ivar's voice was rough from disuse and held just a touch of sarcasm.

Marcus found it amusing. It reminded him of a puppy trying to posture like a wolf. As skilled as Ivar was, he was a long, long, long way from being able to threaten a proper ancient vampire in a fair fight, which was why he'd joined Marcus. If he ever wanted vengeance against the ancient vampire who had turned his mother while she'd been pregnant with him, then joining forces with another ancient was his best chance.

"Treachery, Ivar. Treachery is the biggest problem with vampires." Marcus motioned for his forces to begin their encirclement of the enemy camp. In keeping with the enemy coven leader's preference for hedonism over proper soldiery, the guards stationed around the camp were those fools either too unlucky or too unattractive to participate in the orgy taking place further in. Good grief. Orgies were a staple of vampire culture, but there was a time and place for everything. The middle of a warzone was not an appropriate place for an orgy. "Personally, I think it goes all the way back to the origin of the vampires."

Ivar's brows wrinkled, and he inclined his head in favour of actually asking his question.

"Vampires first came to be early in the Third Age. It wasn't easy for vampires back then. As you know, vampires do not enjoy living water. The weakest of our number cannot cross it, and it can easily weaken or immobilise even elder vampires if they are fully immersed. With the seas rising, the first vampires had to be very careful. I don't know exactly how the first vampire – the Progenitor – came to be, but I do know that the first vampire personally created five vampires to serve him. They were different from the near-mindless thralls and ghouls that he had already made. They were, for all intents and purposes, the first true vampires other than him. They came to be known as the Council of Five."

Marcus chuckled. "For much of the Third Age, there was no strife in the very first coven. They could ill afford to turn on one another when the rising waters put them all at risk. After the defeat of the Third Catastrophe, the seas began to recede. Those early vampires suddenly found themselves able to travel far more freely. And with that growing freedom came a stark realisation. You see, a bond exists between a vampire and those who are turned with their blood. The sire always has some level of mental influence over those they have turned. Some aspects of that influence are quite subtle. It makes the creator vampire appear more attractive and charismatic, and it makes their words sound much more persuasive and logical. However, it can also take much more direct forms."

"You're talking about direct mental compulsion," Ivar growled. "The creator vampire can give orders that are almost impossible to disobey."

"Yes."

The archer's fists clenched. "I know all about that."

"I imagine you do." Marcus could already see it. Gaius indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, but he also derived great pleasure in tormenting his foes. It was all too easy to imagine the other ancient allowing Ivar to get close only to use the blood link between them to force the half-blood to watch as he escaped, taking the young man's mother with him. "Now, do you think the Council of Five would have been pleased when they realised just how much power over them the Progenitor had?"

Ivar shook his head. His dealings with vampires had taught him that they chaffed at subservience unless they were richly rewarded. Even then, they were constantly scheming to rise up through the ranks.

"The blood link is strongest between those who are directly related. In other words, a creator vampire has the most control over those they have turned personally. They have less control over the vampires that are turned by their subordinates. The Council of Five planned for centuries, establishing covens of their own… and then turning on the Progenitor. At great cost, they eventually emerged triumphant. As the oldest remaining vampires, there was no one who could control them. And to make sure that none of their subordinates got any ideas about overthrowing them, they used the Progenitor's blood to weave a powerful magic that made it impossible for those they had turned to go against them."

"Are the Council of Five still alive?" Ivar asked quietly. "Because if they are, they need to die."

"They are all dead," Marcus replied. "My father was one of them, and he killed the others during the Fourth Age. Now, before you thank him, you need to realise that he didn't do it out of altruism. On the contrary, it was another case of treachery. You see, it occurred to him that although the Council of Five had all been personally turned by the Progenitor, they were not all equally powerful. He was perhaps the least of them, albeit the one most skilled in rituals and esoteric magic. Rather than being happy about being one of the five most powerful vampires in the world, my father wanted to become the most powerful vampire in the world."

"Of course, he did."

"Yes, my father was a total bastard. He convinced the other members of the Council of Five that they could perform another ritual and transcend their status as ancient vampires to become primordial vampires." Marcus made a disgusted sound. "As you can imagine, the other members of the Council were intrigued. What was the cost? Well, all they had to do was to sacrifice their covens in another grand ritual."

Ivar scoffed.

"Yes, he was asking them to commit more treachery. They didn't hesitate. They were as greedy for power as he was. But unbeknownst to them, my father went to their covens and informed them of their impending treachery. He praised their loyalty and hard work and said it would be a shame if they were to fall victim to such schemers. Instead, he asked them to go along with the ritual… and that he would reverse its effects, sacrificing the other members of the Council and helping all of them ascend into ancients."

"And they believed him?"

"My father could be very charming when he put his mind to it," Marcus said. "He could make you believe the sky was purple or the sun shone green, he was that persuasive. But unbeknownst to both groups, he had modified the ritual to sacrifice all of them to turn himself – and only himself – into a primordial vampire." Marcus laughed. "It would almost be funny, you know, if he hadn't become the Fourth Catastrophe afterward. My father succeeded. In a single ritual, he wiped out the other members of the Council of Five, as well as their covens, and ascended into a vampire more powerful than any other in history – a vampire so strong that he soon came to threaten the entire world."

"What of his coven?" Ivar asked.

"Oh, he sacrificed them too. My father was well aware of the treachery they had planned against him and used their desires to supplant him to include them in the ritual. The only reason I survived was my paranoia. My father made the mistake of being nice to me. He was never nice to me unless he wanted something."

"How does this relate to tonight?" Ivar asked.

Marcus glanced at his captains. They nodded. Everything was ready. "Because, Ivar, I intend to turn the land beneath the umbral veil into a new homeland for vampires. And that means, I need to deal with the vampiric penchant for treachery. The best way to do that is to make it very clear that treachery will not be tolerated. And I can do that by killing every single ancient or elder that cannot be trusted to keep their word. It will be bloody, yes, but perhaps it will be enough to teach my fellow vampires that treachery will not be rewarded in our new homeland. Gaius is one of the most treacherous vampires I know. Making an example of him will be an excellent start." Marcus paused. "He's also an asshole, so I won't feel bad if he dies."

Ivar scowled. "Asshole doesn't even begin to cover it."

"In any case," Marcus said. "It's time." He raised his voice. "I won't bother with an elaborate speech. If they surrender, spare them. I'll sort out which ones need to die. If they fight? Kill them!" His men roared and charged toward the camp. "And don't destroy the booze. We can drink that later!"

The battle, such as it was, was over shortly after it began. Marcus had trained his troops well and had ensured they saw regular combat, if not against vampires and human warriors, then against the many beasts that wandered the frozen north. They were hungry for battle, hungry for success, and hungry for victory.

They cut through Gaius's troops like a hot knife through butter.

The only resistance came from the elders who had not be invited to the orgy. They fought with superhuman speed and struck with superhuman strength, but Marcus had elders of his own, and his were far better trained. Oh, he wasn't a complete monster. He allowed his vampires to indulge in blood and other vices, but only if they trained regularly and met their quota of patrols, battles, and exercises. The hedonistic indulgences that so many vampires took for granted were not rights in his camp. They were privileges, and his vampires were far more dangerous for it.

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They made their way to the centre of the camp and arrived to find the orgy still in full swing. Marcus scoffed. The sheer incompetence involved in not noticing their attack beggared belief. But he could also see his troops' eyes wandering.

"Easy," Marcus growled. "They might be pretty, but they'll bite your throat out and drain you dry before they warm your bed." That brought a few chuckles. "If you want someone to help you pass the cold night, wait until we get back to camp. You'll have plenty of loot with you, and you'll be coming back victorious. I'm told the ladies love that."

More laughter greeted his words.

Yet despite the heavily armed troops standing around the orgy, the participants seemed determined to continue. Marcus shook his head. This was just getting pathetic. He snapped his fingers and used a bit of magic to make it echo through the area like a crack of thunder. The orgy stopped, and he felt a smile cross his lips as Gaius's brain fought through the fog of drugs, booze, and women to realise that, yes, his camp had fallen and he and his harem were now surrounded by hundreds of warriors. And the look on his face when he saw Marcus and then Ivar beside him and understood just how screwed he was – and not in a nice way – was something Marcus would savour for centuries.

"Out of the way," Marcus ordered. The harem parted as he stalked forward.

Marcus stifled a laugh as Gaius tried to put on his pants before realising it would be better to don the enchanted breastplate nearby instead. Ivar raised his bow – a weapon carved from the branch of a Daughter Tree that Marcus had barely managed to escape with – and loosed an arrow wrought of dragon-silver, a metal made from the powdered scales of a dragon. Admittedly, it had only been a relatively young dragon, but Marcus had paid handsomely to ensure that the scales came from a dragon whose powers were aligned with light and purity. He'd then paid even more handsomely to have a skilled dwarf smith make a dozen of them for Ivar to use. Marcus had then personally used runes on each arrow to ensure they could repair themselves and would always return to Ivar when called.

Those same arrows would be a threat to him, but giving them to Ivar had completely won over the young man. And Ivar was nothing if not loyal to those who aided him. Provided Marcus did nothing to harm Ivar or those he cared about, he could count on the half-blood to serve without question for the rest of his days. Besides, Marcus had also taken steps over the years to reduce his vulnerability to such weapons. The weapons could certainly hurt him, but they wouldn't be able to kill him, at which point he should be able to deal with Ivar easily enough. And even if worse came to worst, he had already prepare a means to escape the area that even Doomwing would have trouble stopping.

The arrow went through Gaius's hand and pinned it to the ground.

"Agh!" Gaius screamed. "My hand!" Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs ɴovᴇl(ꜰ)ir(e).nᴇt

"Worry less about your hand and more about your head," Marcus drawled. The three most highly favoured members of Gaius's harem moved to block his path, and he raised an eyebrow. "Now, I understand wanting to curry his favour, but are you really going to try to stop me? Gaius is going to die tonight, and you can either die with him or prove yourself useful to me."

The three women looked at each other and then flashed him their most beguiling smiles. Marcus would have been lying if he said he wasn't tempted. Gaius had always had a keen eye for beauty, especially redheads, but Marcus wouldn't be much of a king if he let his libido order him around.

"I'm speaking of skills outside the bedroom," Marcus said. "For example, I could use a record keeper. And I know my troops have been hoping for a better cook." Laughter rippled through his warriors. "You can only eat roasted yeti so many times before you find yourself wishing for a proper meal." Read Web Novels Online Free - NovelFire Novel Fire - novelfire.net

One of the women, the redhead, raised her hand. "Uh… I used to be a record keeper. I kept the ledgers for my previous lord."

"I see." Marcus nodded. "Then put on some clothes and wait over there." He pointed. "And don't try anything because I will kill you if I have to." He glanced back at the two others. "What about you two?"

"I'm not an awful cook," the brunette said.

"Not awful is a step up from our current situation."

"I can sew and weave magic into clothes," the blonde said.

"That… is extremely useful. You two join your friend over there." Marcus stepped forward as they scuttled out of his way. "And now to deal with you, Gaius."

The other ancient vampire was trying to use his magic, but he had almost certainly ingested all manner of drugs and booze. Even an ancient vampire could be affected by substances of sufficient strength, and it would take time to flush them from his system. The pain from the arrow could not be helping either.

"You son of a bitch," Gaius hissed. "Do you really think you'll get away with this?"

"Absolutely." Marcus laughed. "I mean… who's going to stop me?" He looked around. "Any takers?" Not surprisingly, nobody spoke up for Gaius. "I'm going to turn this land into a vampire kingdom, and it's going to be a vampire kingdom free of the treachery, hedonism, and general idiocy that has doomed our species for centuries."

"Do you know how many of us you'll have to kill to make that work?" Gaius growled.

"I estimate I'll have to kill at least twenty ancients before the rest fall into line. After that? I'll probably have to kill at least one or two a century for the first few hundred years before everybody finally gets the message. But I thought I'd start with you." Marcus turned to Ivar. "You've got more reason to kill him than me. Would you like to do anything before I strike him down."

Ivar didn't bother to reply. Instead, his hands flashed into motion, and it wasn't long before Gaius resembled a pin cushion from all the arrows sticking out of him.

"That'll have to do," Ivar growled. "He is an ancient who has lived for more than three thousand years. I don't have the power to kill him. You do. Seeing him die will have to be enough."

Marcus nodded. The older an ancient was, the harder it was to keep them dead. Even if Ivar destroyed Gaius's body completely, the other vampire's spirit would linger, and it would only be a matter of time before his body reformed or he possessed the body of one of his subordinates. However, Marcus was capable of truly killing even an ancient like Gaius.

"Any last words?" Marcus asked.

Gaius blubbered uselessly through his ruined mouth.

"Ah, you can't speak. Well, goodbye, Gaius."

Marcus reached deep into his very being and called for one of the ancient runes he knew. It was a rune of true death, something he had learned from Doomwing. As the primordial dragon put it, there were times when you needed to make sure that something stayed dead, and this rune was for those times.

Gaius tried to muster his powers to defend himself, but Marcus struck out with a handful of greater runes that shattered his body and disrupted his magic. Had Gaius kept himself in fighting shape, this might actually have been a battle. Instead, he'd fallen prey to his own vices.

The rune took a while to set up, and so Marcus contented himself with whistling a happy tune before it finally snapped into place and Gaius died. It was not a pretty death. There was plenty of screaming and wailing, and a great deal of thrashing, writhing, and shuddering. But the end result was that Gaius died, and his body disintegrated. There was nothing left of him, not an ounce of his spirit or magic remained. He was as dead as anything could be.

"Ivar," Marcus said as he noticed a familiar woman huddled in a corner. "Over there."

The young man's eyes widened. "Mother…"

They had both expected her to be dead. Gaius was not known for keeping people around once he had lost interest in them.

"Go to her," Marcus said. "She will need you in the days to come."

As Ivar hurried off to his mother, Marcus turned to greet the only other ancient vampire in Gaius's camp. The other vampire was dressed in a simple grey tunic, and his dark hair was kept well-trimmed. The glasses on his face were likely an affectation from his time amongst the living. All ancient vampires had inhumanly keen vision.

"It's been a while, Marcus." Quintus sighed. "I suppose this is where you kill me too."

"Please," Marcus drawled. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I served Gaius for centuries."

"He turned you, Quintus. It wasn't as though you could easily disobey. Besides, despite your personal dislike of him, you served him loyally and well. It was only your excellent administration that allowed him to indulge in so many vices. Without you, he'd have gone bankrupt years ago. You also surrendered to my men rather than trying to fight your way through them. You could have – you are an ancient."

"And then what?" Quintus asked. "Say I killed your men, I'd then have to deal with you and the elders who serve you. I might get away, but where would I go? I'd have nothing but the clothes on my back. I suppose I could start over, but this place… this is going to be the new vampire homeland. Where could I go that would be better than here?"

"And that is why I won't be killing you, Quintus." Marcus grinned. "You're an excellent administrator, and I find myself in dire need of someone to help with that side of things. Moreover, you are loyal to those you serve, and you think logically with an eye to the long-term consequences of your decisions. Gaius is dead. There is no one left who can control you. Instead, I ask you to serve me. I will become the king of this land, and you can become one of my trusted advisors. You must have dreams that you could never fulfil while you were forced to handle things for Gaius. Join me, and you'll see those dreams fulfilled. All I ask from you is your loyalty, and I would like to think I'm more deserving of it than Gaius."

Quintus looked at him for a long moment. "I could do that."

"Good." Marcus smiled. "Now, help me sort through all the people here in this camp. I need to know who can be trusted and who should be dealt with."

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