Professor Kal

Satisfied with her answer, Professor Kal clapped his hands loudly, startling those near him. "Wonderful! Now, before we set out, there's something I must do. Come on boy, help me out."

Professor Kal then proceeded to drag a confused Ryan over to one of the flowering blood vines. Princess Alessandria, Lilly, and even the fifty some survivors, watched as the Professor and his ȧssistant hacked and cleaved at the crimson red vines.

Professor Kal had manifested two hatchets from his ring and handed Ryan one of those. "It's not every day such a well-preserved specimen just falls in your ŀȧp!" He exclaimed before starting to cut away the thorny vines, wanting to extrapolate what was trapped within.

Following his lead, Ryan began to swing his own hatchet, being careful to avoid the thorns. Unexpectedly, the vine was surprisingly dense, his hand tingling from the impact. Not wanting to hear an unneeded lecture, he did his best to ignore the irritating feeling and helped as best as he could. After several minutes of much more effort that he would have liked, he and Professor Kal managed to free the dried corpse.

After resting for a little while longer and letting Princess Alessandria change into one of the spare outfits that Professor Treffle had stored in Ryan's storage ring, the large group of people set off down the dirt road. Surprisingly, especially to those who knew him, Professor Kal had taken the lead, whistling a happy tune as he walked. Unbeknownst to all but one of them, a pair of pitch-black eyes gaze at them as they disappeared over the horizon.

…..

"My Lord, preparations are complete for the ritual, and I have personally selected the next group to become your retainers." A monster of a man said in a deep gravely voice, kneeling on one knee, his face towards the stone floor.

If standing at attention, the man would have reached an astounding six-feet five-inches tall. His physique rippled with muscle, like it had been chiseled from the finest marble. His black glossy hair hung in a ponytail just past his shoulder blades, and his clean-shaven face was picturesque of the word 'masculine'.

A pleased look flashed across his master's face before quickly returning to a neutral expression. "Wonderful work Theodore, as a reward, you may select one of the sacrifices to do with as you please."

Theodore's mouth contorted into a sinister grin much too wide for his face, elongated teeth seemed to grow from his gums. At the thought of feeding, an unbearable thirst almost overcame him. He was a newly born noble vampire and did not have the experience needed to squash his urges. It took all the willpower he could muster just to keep himself from drooling.

Seeing his retainer subtly shaking before him, Silus fought back an audible sigh. Theodore was one of the first that he had turned and was by far the strongest, not only physically but magically as well. He had discovered that although he could use magic in much the same way as before he was transformed into a Progenitor, the same could not be said to those that he turned.

Noble vampires could not use mana in order to manifest their magic, instead, they had to use their own blood as a medium in order to cast spells. The spells they were able to cast remained much the same as a regular mage, but the strength of the spell was directly correlated to the purity of their blood instead of the amount of mana used. This meant that noble vampires were equal to an arch mage, someone who had almost reached the pinnacle of magic. This allowed him to amass so much fighting force that he would be able to fight against an army of thousands.

Of course, they were not invincible magic machines, they had limitations as well. Having to use their own blood in order to cast spells meant that with every incantation, their unquenchable thirst would grow. Also, with the lack of blood in their bodies, noble vampires would lose physical strength at the same rate as the spells they cast. This prevented them from just running amok, killing as they pleased.

Another limitation was that each noble that he ushered into the world would take a tremendous toll on his body. He would need to rest for several days afterwards, constantly feeding to restore his strength. This left him extremely vulnerable during this time, so he had only made two nobles thus far. He had hand picked each one from the hundreds of people he had abducted up to this point, sacrificing the rest.

Using the connection he had to his kin, Silus forcefully brought Theodore back into reason. He had found that there was some sort of mental link between him and all of those that he turned. He couldn't communicate to his brood, but he could feel their individual emotions, especially if they were strong ones. He also found that he could influence their emotions as well, not completely, but enough to be able to bring them out of a frenzy.

His face returning to normal, Theodore bowed even lower. "Please forgive me my Lord, for my unsavory behavior."

"It's fine." Silus said dismissively, waving his pale hand. He knew it would take some time for them to learn about their new bodies, and to get a handle on their urges. "Is there anything else to report?"

"Yes, there is, my Lord." Theodore started, taking a deep breath even though he didn't need to breathe. "More demons than expected failed to return after razing the village, and only one of the hellhounds made it back from their hunt."

"Hmm." Silus hummed, his long claw-like nail tapping on the cherry armrest of his throne. "How many did we lose?"

"...fifty."

The rhythmic tapping that echoed throughout the large chamber stopped abruptly, Theodore's mouth was dry as he anxiously waited, still staring at the floor. Silus' face remained stoic, inwardly he was apprehensive. He was also grateful for the fact that emotions were not transmitted both ways through the link between him and his offspring.

Not wanting to appear shaken, he asked for more information. "What happened?"

"Forgive me for my ignorance my Lord, but I still struggle to comprehend the demon's language and was unable to gain a clear understanding of what transpired. From what I could understand, magic was involved, I am ȧssuming that a powerful mage must have been at the village when they attacked." Theodore explained, his voice steady.

He wasn't scared of his master, ever since he had been turned, he had been nothing but fair. Always taking their opinions into consideration and taking time to teach them everything they would need to know to blend into high society. But, with most everyone, they hated to be the bearer of bad news and feared that they would become the object of his frustrations.

"Any other information? What about the hellhounds?" Silus asked, leaning forward in his highbacked throne.

Theodore shook his head. "No other information, my Lord. As far as the hellhounds are concerned, they are only slightly more intelligent than a dog, so I was unable to ascertain the reason why only one survived."

"Very well." Silus said, controlling the storm of emotions raging inside his heart. "We must ȧssume that they have failed to hunt the Princess down."

"Shall I send Marissa?" Theodore posed.

Taking a moment to think, Silus used his fair hand to brush his long silver hair back behind his ear. "Not for the Princess, that was just an opportunity that failed to work out. I'm more concerned about the mage, have her find them and observe from a distance, nothing more."

Theodore nodded his head and stood, but before he could turn to leave, Silus spoke once more. "And pull the demons back for now, we have plenty of souls to perform the ritual several times. Have them spawn more nests and increase the number on each patrol, we need to wait and see how Amine will react."

"At once, my Lord."

…..

Marcus was a bundle of nerves; he hadn't slept in two days and any stimuli threatened to send him over the edge of sanity and into a nervous breakdown. He stood in front of the large gates leading out of Lenova, a contingent of fifty knights surrounding him, all on horseback. After much arguing, and a good dose of bribing, he had finally managed to convince the knight captain to send out a small group to at least verify his accounts.

In a perfect world, it would have not taken nearly as much time as it did to ȧssemble such a small group, this was anything but a perfect world. So much time had been wasted that Marcus feared the worse. The pace of abductions had only been increasing, and that was almost five days ago. It had been three days since he came to the capital and would take another two to return to the village.

In all honesty, he didn't much care for the villagers themselves, he really only cared about his wife and newly born daughter. He had reluctantly left them behind in the village, but as more and more time passed, he feared that in reality he abandoned them to die. He just had to pray to the gods that what he feared the most didn't come to pass.

The sun had been over the horizon for well over an hour now, pigeons were pruning themselves on top of the tall city walls. The fifty knights were all loitering around the open gates, waiting for their commander to issue the order. Marcus could hear jovial laughter amongst the group of knights, frustrating him even further. He despised the knights for taking this so lightly, for him his family's lives were on the line, for them though it was just some backwater village, nothing of importance.

He knew better than to voice his irritation, it would serve no purpose, only driving a wedge between him and the only people that were going to help the village. So, he sat on his borrowed horse, biting his tongue, growing more and more irritated as the seconds ticked by. Finally, much to his relief, the knight commander issued the command to move out.

"Alright men, listen up!" The commander hollered out, his voice cutting short any conversations the knights were having. "I'm sure all of you know what the mission is, so I won't go over it again. There is a bit of urgency to this, so unfortunately, we'll be moving at double time."

He stopped and held up his hand in response to the exasperated groans that emitted from his men, silencing the knights once again. "I don't want to hear it! And it looks like some of you could use the exercise as it is!" This comment earning laughter from some of the knights, and even more groans from others. "Ok, ok, enough yapping! Let's move out!"

With those words, the fifty knights drove their horses out of the gates, Marcus, and his horse trotting closely behind them.. A slight feeling of relief washed over him, finally, after three days, help was on its way to Swayzee.