Damon t his gaze without flinching, the edge of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. He did not bother saying anything else to the guy.
Kaelthorn’s chains rattled as he slowly stood up, the crimson system mark glowing on his chest now that he’d accepted the recruitnt. "So, what now, little Lord? Do I get a leash and collar, or are we skipping straight to the carnage?"
"You’ll get both," Damon said. "But only when I say so."
Kaelthorn’s grin widened. "Delightful. It’s been too long since I’ve heard soone scream properly."
Damon turned, motioning toward the door. "Then let’s begin. You’re not here for your amusent, Kaelthorn. You’re here to help , and if you’re lucky, maybe earn your freedom."
Kaelthorn followed without argunt, the sound of his bare feet dragging against stone. As they exited the cell, Ellora gave Damon a subtle look.
"You really are insane," she whispered, amused.
Damon didn’t deny it. "That’s why I’ll win. Co, we still have one more follower to recruit."
"Hmmm?" Ellora looked genuinely curious. The second follower of the new lord was enough to get her excited, and now she was extrely intrigued. "Don’t tell you’ve found another ancient war criminal buried in the dungeons," she teased, falling in step beside him. "Or maybe a dragon in disguise like that wyrm we fought outside?"
Damon didn’t respond right away. Instead, he opened the interface mid-stride and scrolled all the way to the bottom of the recruitable list, where the weakest, most forgotten entry rested.
"Riven," he muttered, tapping the na.
Ellora blinked. "Who?"
"You’ll see."
"Riven? I know that na." Kaelthorn raised an eyebrow behind him, clearly unimpressed. "You just recruited a Level 12 no-na," the blood knight said with a hint of mockery. "A petty criminal who is always in and out of the prison system."
He wasn’t exaggerating. Riven was weak now, weak and broken and utterly overlooked, but sowhere inside that beaten shell was a monster. All he needed was the right spark, the right push. Damon was betting everything on being that spark.
"Do you know him?" Damon asked the guy.
Kaelthorn simply snorted. "What’s there to know?"
The three of them reached another section of the prison cells where more petty offenders were kept. "My Lord, please wait here. I can go in and retrieve him for you." Ellora bowed and moved toward the rows of lesser cells, heels tapping lightly on the stone floor. Damon nodded, letting her go.
Kaelthorn leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, watching with a skeptical look. "You’re seriously planning to mold that garbage into sothing useful?" he asked, voice low.
"I don’t need him to be useful right away," Damon replied.
"Hmph. I think you do. I can sll your rotten soul from a mile away."
Damon was slightly surprised, but he remained indifferent, not giving away anything, neither confirming nor denying his words.
Monts later, Ellora returned, dragging a thin, pale figure behind her. The vampire she held by the arm looked barely alive. His hair was tangled, eyes dull, and his robes were ragged. There was a hollow, haunted look in his gaze, like soone who had stopped expecting anything from the world a long ti ago.
"This is him?" Ellora said, eyeing Riven with mild disbelief.
Riven didn’t resist. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even seem to register them properly. Damon walked over and crouched slightly so he could look the man in the eye. "Serve for so ti and I will pardon all your cris."
Riven was not even bold enough to et his gaze. The man simply nodded in a daze.
Damon stood and gave a small nod. Even if Riven looked like a ghost of a man now, that small spark of obedience was all he needed.
"Ellora," Damon said, stepping aside, "clean him up, feed him, and give him a basic gear set. Nothing fancy. Just enough to keep him from falling apart. Oh, and give him a sword."
Ellora gave a disappointed sigh but didn’t argue. "Yes, yes, my Lord. I’ll make sure your stray dog doesn’t starve."
"Give sothing to Kaelthorn as well. All three of you can et upstairs after you are ready. We are headed out, and I need you to be in your best possible condition."
Then, without another word, Damon walked away. As the lord of the blood hall, he already had the system map for the whole place, and for the next order of business, he needed to et Varnyx.
The old vampire ca out to greet him as soon as he reached the main area of the blood hall, and from the looks of it, he was swamped, ordering around several vampires.
Varnyx didn’t miss a beat. Even while directing a half-dozen different squads, his sharp eyes imdiately locked onto Damon.
He barked a few last orders, sothing about reinforcing the eastern wing and rerouting fresh blood stock to the lower floors, before turning his full attention to the young Lord.
"My Lord, you are back. There are many things that we need to discuss. After the glorious war and our complete domination of the corrupted forces, many humans have shown interest in turning into a bloodling. Our blood hall severely lacks freshly initiated bloodlings to take care of simple chores. If you approve, then I can start actively recruiting more and more bloodlings."
Damon’s eyes widened. What was this turn of events? He did not know that a Blood Hall Lord held such a position. So now he could decide whether other players beca vampires or not?
He chuckled in amusent and then went ahead to approve everything. It was all out in the open now, and there was no point in trying to restrict other players from becoming vampires. In fact, the more the rrier.
The more quests these people completed and the more resources they poured into the blood hall, the more his strength and position would grow. Who was he to say no to free labor?
***
Mass Release sponsored by Syphatrol
User Comments
0 comments from readers