Chapter 40

The Grave Calls

Shadow hadn’t lied. It required a little soul searching, but I managed to find thirteen absurdly strong demonic parasites that had survived the explosion. They must have mutated more than the rest, allowing them to absorb the mana, soul energy, and life force from the explosion, rather than being destroyed by it. They were spread across my soul like ticks, reinforcing their small sections in a way that made it act like a protective barrier.

With the transformation my soul had undergone, I could sense each one, and feel exactly what they were doing. Which is how I knew, they were all dormant, waiting for the right conditions to begin regenerating my body, conditions that wouldn’t occur without active intervention.

Without my vampiric cunning, it took a frustrating amount of effort to gather them together, manipulating my soul and push them into a single place. It took a bit more prodding after that, but they eventually realised they weren’t alone anymore.

Over the next ten seconds, they began to regenerate a drop of blood. When the weight of the drop grew too much to stay airborne, it fell to the crater below, pulling my soul with it. A secondary force began trying to pull at my soul, attempting to draw it inside my flesh. With the strength my soul possessed after its transformation and my knowledge of astral projection, it was easy to resist being pulled in.

I might not have had my vampiric cunning anymore, but my soul’s memory was flawless.

I let the blood pull me to ground. Without a body to come back to, going walkabout would be a mistake. My feet collided with compacted earth, before the weight of the blood yanked me onto my back, leaving me lying face up, looking at the night sky.

For a moment, I froze. The beauty of the stars caught me off guard, so did the alienness. They weren’t my constellations, reminding me I was so very far from home.

So very far from the man I had been.

The vampiric instincts that had plagued me for so long were gone, but so were my emotions. I didn’t feel anger or bitterness, or any horror over the actions I had taken or that had been done to me. I was cold, almost logical in nature.

I knew who I was and that wouldn’t change.

Stars twinkled overhead as thunder cracked in the distance. It was quickly followed by dozens of other identical the cracks of thunder, reminding me I was in a warzone and not matter how good it was to be away from my impulses and instincts, people needed me.

I forced myself to ignore the sky and pushed my focus inward, scanning each parasite and assigning a number. Lucky Number 7 got his name because he was doing half the work. The little guy was creating muscle like a steroid drunk bodybuilder. However, even with Number 7’s efforts, it was safe to say my regeneration was no longer measured in milliseconds and seconds, but minutes and hours.

The research Contessa conducted by torturing me had taught me that the parasites had some awareness of their surroundings. When she’d separated a few parasites from the other parasites inside my body, they refused to spawn new parasites, but continued to create new flesh as long as they weren’t entirely alone. When the separated parasites and new flesh were reintroduced to my body the two immediately merged and the parasites returned to spawning new parasite.

After discovering this mechanism, Contessa tried to clone me. She took a sample of parasites and let them regenerate flesh away from my main body unimpeded. The parasite threw everything they had into rebuilding me, killing themselves in the process. Contessa ran the experiment four times just to calculate the minimum number of parasites needed to clone me but didn’t live long enough to see if she was right.

My thirteen mutated parasites were much stronger than the ones she worked with, but I highly doubted they would be enough for a full recovery, not when it took ten seconds to regenerate a single drop of blood. I was effectively out of this fight, which was a problem because my people needed all the help they could get.

Despite experiencing an explosion that destroyed most of this side of the city, the vampires had picked themselves up to continue fighting. I could sense the flow of the skirmishes and wider battle through my bonds. As those who had taken my oath, didn’t adapt to the new situation as fast as their enemy.

The next few minutes continued the blood bath the explosion had triggered, before everything feel into a new rhythm. My bond continually sent me warnings, trying to make me intervene. There were times where I knew I would have been able to save people if I only had my body. Other times like with Sir Trent, there was nothing I could do. One moment he was alive, healthy, and in danger, and the next he was dead.

A few second after he fell, Angelica was at death’s door. Thirty minutes went by without any changes to her condition, but there were changes to mine.

I felt the first signs of weariness enter Number 7.

I could tell he wanted me to return to my grave and rest. He was tired from regenerating half a pound of flesh and making the other twelve look bad.

By any definition, the twelve’s ability to regenerate half a pound of flesh was impressive. Except in situation where they were sitting next to Number 7, who had achieved the same results alone. Then they looked like slackers.

By the hour mark, I was certain that if I didn’t stop my recovery, the surviving parasites would kill themselves trying to save me. The pressure my soul was under to merge with my flesh was growing stronger by the minute, but I couldn’t give into to it. Giving in would be a death sentence.

The sun began to rise thirty minutes later. At the same time, I saw thick black clouds rise from the city, creating a doom of darkness that blocked out the light. There were holes in the doom, which suggested the effect wasn’t from a spell, but enchanted objects. Having some of their devices destroyed in the explosion would explain the gaps.

The sunlight didn’t bother my thirteen surviving parasites. They were the type of parasites only ancient vampires had. They weren’t affected by sunlight, continuing to regrow flesh unimpeded as the sunlight grew brighter.

Thirty minutes later, I was in a better position to do something. I had four pounds of flesh, with enough control over that flesh through my soul to shapeshift it into another form. I knew I needed three pounds to build a functional brain, so I’d waited until I had another pound to get me airborne. My attributes would hopefully make up for the disparity.

Having more flesh to work with would have been better, but the grave was calling, and I couldn’t wait.

I took my last glimpse of the sunrise, enjoying the feeling of being closer to my old self, and then rearranged the glob of flesh, blood, and bone into a fat crow. There were no internal organs, just a framework to house my brain, with enough muscle to flap my wings and keep me airborne. It was a fragile form. A single spell would kill it. And the parasites wouldn’t be able regenerate this much flesh a second time. But hopefully it would be enough to save my life.

I let my soul merge back into my flesh and opened my eyes as the Vampire Vincent. My mind shifted gears as vampiric instincts reasserted themselves. I immediately noticed the flaws I’d incorporated into my new form. I’d been too cautious, too safe, I had more than enough flesh to have left this crater thirty minutes ago.

I shapeshifted again, harnessing the excess flesh, to create a form that was faster and stronger. The moment my avian form stabilised, I leapt into the air and flapped my wings, heading for the field hospital that I sensed had been set up in the city.

My attribute enhanced strength and agility propelled me through the air as I navigated around battles inside half destroyed buildings, necromancers fleeing south on foot, and all the other chaotic elements that comes with warzones. Getting to the city centre in one piece was my only goal. The field hospital was the only secure location outside of the dungeon and enough of my people were there that I knew they could get Davina for me.

The smell of blood and pain tantalised my senses as I approached the building. It left me salivating as I glided closer.

The grave was calling me.

And a deep primal thirst was clawing at the back of my throat.

It wasn’t as bad as when I’d kidnapped Carolyn, but it would continue to grow worse until Davina bound my parasites and commanded them to stop trying to regenerate me. Even if she were successful, it would still be three months until we reached my grave, so we would be cutting it close.

I circled the warehouse three times, evaluating the dozen guards, while I waited for my people to tell them not to attack me. I was closer to death than I’d ever come, and I wasn’t willing to take any risks.

My fight was definitely over.

As the guards stood down, they opened the barrier. I flew through the hole in the roof and landed on Gregory’s naked chest. The armour he’d borrowed from Titus was gone, taken by someone who needed it more. Gregory didn’t react to my landing, staring at the ceiling close to catatonic.

With my skin touching his and the changes my soul had undergone, I could sense the poor state of his soul. Yes, both his legs had been cut off and were sitting on the ground beside him rotting and waiting to be reattached, but they were a minor issue compared to his missing left arm.

I could smell the hellfire clinging to the stump, infecting his soul, and preventing him from healing properly. The infection was eating at his soul leaving him smelling depressed and defeated, like a man at the end of his rope, ready to jump off the cliff if he could only get the strength to take that last step.

I needed Gregory functional. Everything would go smoothly if the orders came from him.

I drew on the new reservoir of soul energy that sat within me where my core had been and poured it into his body using the same healing palm technique, I used to heal Kathrine. What had taken me months of effort for her, only took seconds for him, giving me insight into the scope of the transformation my soul had undergone.

Gregory took a deep breath as his soul recovered and blinked. A few seconds passed as his body rebalanced his neurochemicals and returned to its normal state. His hellfire injured continued to damage his soul, but for a moment that damage had been undone.

Greogry sighed as he continued to blink. “Thanks, Boss.”

I ignored his thanks and surveyed the room.

There were dozens of hellfire injured deathlords and archsorcerers groaned in their sleep. The clerics and paladins were all off fighting, so no one was taking care of them. The only treatment they’d received was a potion or two to close their natural wounds and let them rest. Gregory’s injuries were some of the worst, but they were nothing compared to Angelica’s.

She was covered from head to toe in hellfire burns, giving her a charcoal complexion and an odour close to burnt barbeque. Her flesh had melted into her armour, fusing them together, likely saving her life. I could feel her armours vampiric aura feeding her life force to slow down her decline.

Gregory saw me looking at Angelica and gave her a weak smile filled with pride. “The vampires were overwhelming us with numbers, throwing spells without caring about their mana reserves, blocking us from finishing off their masters whenever we got the upper hand. We were desperate and dying, losing people left and right. Then she saves us.”

“Angelica save you?”

“I think it was Sir Trent’s death that made her do it. She recognised that ancient vampire was going to kill him and went completely berserk, tackling it right as it was turning him to dust and began screaming at that hellfire professor to burn them both.”

Sir Trent had spent months teaching her how to fight, teaching her how to protect herself, so no one would ever harm her again. He was one of the few people she respected, but I doubted that she had ever told him that. It made sense that she would react so strongly to his death. Angelica might have been self-centred, but she was extremely protective of people she thought had shown her kindness.

“It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen,” Gregory added.

“She probably thought her armour would protect her.” My words came out clear, but they sounded strange, due to my beak.

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard her screams.” Gregory pointed at his charred stump with his good hand. “Hellfire isn’t just physical pain. It burns away your will and strength to fight. I know a fraction of what she felt, and I know I wouldn’t have been able to hold on to that vampire the way she did. Your girl didn’t falter. She didn’t let go. She sacrificed herself, so the rest of us could make it out. Everyone in this warehouse and those still fighting are only here because of what she did. She turned the odds in our favour and scared the last ancient vampire enough to run away. I don’t know if Rupert and Davina managed to put it down, but it doesn’t matter. She gave us the breathing room we needed to win.”

I should have felt pride. I should have felt joy and happiness over her actions. But I couldn’t. The closest I could come was a feeling of contentment that my monster had finally made the right choice. The demonic part of me hated her for that.

“Why are you here, sir?”

“I need you to get Davina for me. She’s on the east side of the city.”

“Why not go to her yourself?”

“I don’t like my chances of reaching her.”

“What?”

“I’m dying.”

Gregory tilted his head forward to stare at me, before giving me a weary grin. “Welcome to the party, sir. I’ll send someone to find her for you.”

“I need protecting.”

“I think that’s mentioned in our employment contract somewhere.”

I chuckled.

As Gregory called over the senior most deathlord, I flapped my wings and flew off his chest to land on Angelica’s. A crackling sound came from her charcoal skin as I landed. Potions didn’t heal hellfire. A cleric needed to purify her wounds for them to heal, but it wasn’t something you could do quickly, so they’d left her to her fate.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Only a Dragon, a child of the reaping ritual, the owner of the Crypt Keeper set, and my familiar would survive what she had. That was just enough of an advantage to give her a slow and painful death.

As I stood on her chest, I used the healing palm technique. Seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes, as I repaired the thin sliver of her soul that survived her hellfire baptism. Angelica’s injuries made Kathrine’s injures look like a sprained ankle. It would have taken me years to repair all the damage if my soul hadn’t change.

I was glad it had. Spending so long healing her would have been tedious.

I stared at her melted blackened features as I finish healing her soul. Angelica’s breath remained shallow, despite the repairs. “I command you to live, Angelica.”

Her next breathing was a little deeper, but her features contorted in pain from so much movement.

I hopped off her chest and flew back to Gregory, landing on his chest. The four deathlords he’d assigned to guard me followed.

Gregory opened one eye, fighting to remain awake. “You need me to do something else?” He knew I’d heard him send the messenger, so I wasn’t asking for an update.

“No. I’m just seeing how quickly the hellfire burn is damaging your soul.”

Gregory closed his eye. “How bad is it?”

“You’ll start to fall apart again by the end of the day.”

“I can live with that. How’s Helen?”

I focused on my bond with her. “She’s fighting on the west side of the city with a dozen of our people. I’ll tell you if she falls.”

“And the rest of my people?”

“It’s too early to tell.”

Gregory shook his head. “The vampires know we’re deathlords. They know most of us are resistant to death magic. They’re throwing necrotic magic at us. We both know our people aren’t coming back.”

“Some are.”

“I bet any that do always come back quickly.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“How many have been gone for a while?”

“Close to half. But the rate we’re losing people has

slowed.”

Gregory gave me a grim nod and fell asleep, giving into pain and exhaustion.

I turned to the other patients.

Healing Angelica had barely tapped my new reservoir of soul energy, so I moved down the line checking each person’s soul and healing them if they needed it. If their souls grew too weak, they would depart this world, unlike the children in the harvest ritual that would instantly be fatal.

With each passing minute, I continued to grow bigger, and the call of the grave grew stronger. I had an hour at most before I would be in the same shape as I was after the church had finished testing me. But those estimates only applied if my condition continued to deteriorate in a linear way.

Thirty minutes after Gregory fell asleep, Davina blurred into the warehouse. Her robes were coated with ash, blood, and radiated a holy light as numerous curses tried to harm her.

She skidded to a stop before me, and a radiant smile stretched across her face.

I was close to five pounds now and I wasn’t happy about it. “What are you smiling about?”

“You got your wings.”

The way she said it told me she wasn’t talking about me being a crow. “We can talk about that later. I need you to bind my demonic parasites. Only thirteen survived the explosion and if you don’t stop them from regenerating my body, they’re going kill themselves and take me with them.”

Davina got to work, pulling ritual items from her storage pouch to create a binding circle. Items appeared on the ground in a feverish blur, as she simultaneously swept the stone floor clean with a spell.

I didn’t bother asking her how we were doing. She wouldn’t be here unless the situation had turned in our favour. “Have you seen Shadow?”

“Yes. He tried to compel me to help him.”

That was concerning.

“Did it work?”

“He might be a ghost king, but he’s not you. I played along and helped him attack one of the better defended vampire strongholds, but I think you need to keep him on a shorter leash.”

“He’s acting independently.”

Davina knew almost as much about the undead as I did. Her gaze snapped towards me. “How independently?”

“I’m not sure. The explosion destroyed my body, leaving me as a disembodied soul that was much stronger than before the explosion. Shadow went through a similar transformation and use the opportunity to steal my core and insert it into himself, under the pretext that my core may no longer be compatible with the changes that had taken place. I can’t fault his logic.”

Her eye’s widened as she understood what I was saying. “You weren’t the one who woke the dead?”

“No. That was him. He used them to become a ghost king which made him strong enough to break our bond.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“I would do the same if I were in his place. He knows I won’t trust him now that he’s so powerful which means I will keep him on a shorter leash which will interfere with his ability to protect my family and serve my interests. The only reasonable action he could take under those circumstance was to free himself from my control while he had the chance and grow strong enough that I couldn’t summon him back and bend him to my will.”

Davina looked over again. “You almost make it sound like nothing about his transformation concerns you?”

“Everything about his transformation concerns me, but creating a ghost king to stop thirteen immortals from coming into existence is a small price to pay. With everything that’s happening, Shadow is low on my list of priorities and smart enough not to cause the kind of trouble that will move him up the list.”

“What if he fulfils the obligations of his crown?”

“He’s strong enough to kill elder vampires, but he can’t fulfil his obligations unless the last ancient vampire is also dead. Gregory said you went after it.”

“Rupert went after it, even though I told him not to. He led his people into an ambush and had lost half of them before I arrived. I would have died with him, but the matriarch of a necromancer family that had been surviving in the city, showed up with a void tear. She killed him for us.”

Shadow had just moved slightly higher up my priority list, but he still wasn’t an immediate concern. He could only cause a fraction of the trouble that I could.

I changed the subject.

“If we survive this, I want you to devote yourself to practicing life and holy magic. You need to master those skills and form a core. This is just the beginning of a very long war.”

Davina finished creating the binding circle and gave me a sad smile. “I know. I wish I had have listened to you back at the academy.”

I fluttered my wings and hopped into the circle. “If I thought it was necessary back then, I would have compelled you to practice. What happened here and at Darksmith isn’t your fault. Now, hurry up. They need you out there.”

“Yes, your Dark Eminence.”

***

The elder vampires fought to the bitter end. They must have been under some form of compulsion, because even with the chances of being chased down and exposed to daylight, running made more sense.

Just before midday, I felt the last elder vampiric aura disappear from the city and turned to Gregory. He was sitting at a desk, looking at a map of the city. With Shadow’s actions, Harlin’s family no longer had access to ghosts, so Gregory had to track the battle the old fashion way.

“They’ve finished.”

Gregory looked up. “You’re certain?”

“There isn’t an elder vampire left in the city to organise a counterattack. Order the evacuation.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “We won.”

“You can celebrate after we reach the Bo Empire. Until then, we’re in hostile territory.”

Gregory opened his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Gregory began shouting orders, calling for clerics and wagons to be found to begin the evacuation. He was out the door in seconds, ignoring the pain of his missing arm to take care of his people.

Fifteen minutes later, Davina showed up with a dragon hide cushion that Baris’s mother had stitched a permeant binding circle into. Davina bound my parasites again with the same instructions, before beginning to heal the other patients.

After binding me the first time, she had reattached limbs and closed wounds before leaving. Now she was working on the hellfire injuries.

The elder vampires that had been hit by Professor Firebrand’s hellfire had been commanded to jump on our people to take them with them, causing numerous injuries. Davina was going to be busy for a while.

I turned as Helen walked through the door. She wore armour borrowed from Davina’s paladins, carried her husband’s kilij on her hip and held a staff in her hand. She might not have been able to cast holy magic anymore now that she was a paladin, but she still had access to her other branches of magic.

Besides Davina, Helen was the person I trusted the most. I could instinctively sense that she would protect me with her life. It had something to do with her becoming Dalin’s successor. He had been killed by a destruction spell during the first ambush, right after I left. As his successor, his power had gone to her, turning her into a holy paladin and the head of his order, resulting in a transformation of her oath.

“Helen, would you mind carrying my cushion?”

She paused. “Why me?”

“I trust you.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

She walked over and picked up the cushion, bringing me to eye level to meet my gaze. “Let me make this clear. My order doesn’t serve you. That’s not our purpose. We’ve committed ourselves to helping you to walk in the light and will challenge your decisions when we believe it’s necessary.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Princess Carolyn wishes to speak with you.”

Thirst was clawing at the back of my throat and the grave was calling me. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to anyone.

“About what?”

“She didn’t say, but I believe she means to inform you that the survivors of Necropolis are not welcome in Arcadia.”

The field hospital was far from the main road, so I’d been cut off from what was going. I didn’t know anything about any survivors wanting to travel with us.

“Why do they want to come with us?”

“They don’t want to come with us.”

Helen was too used to being at odds with me and didn’t elaborate.

“Why does Carolyn think they want to come with us?”

“There has never been a necromancer blessed by heaven to the degree that Davina is. Many of the necromancers heard Davina’s call during the battle and accepted. Hundreds of their family heads have become acolytes of her order.”

I could see why Carolyn was upset.

“Davina, are you taking them with us?”

Davina didn’t look up as she continued working on her patient. “Do I need to answer that?”

I turned back to Helen. “Take me to the princess, but make sure I’ve got enough guards.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “Her bodyguards can’t harm you.”

“She can.”

“You’re that weak.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll find more guards.”

Helen collected only four more deathlords, because most were still off fight vampires, and then carried me through the city to the edge of the crater. Archsorcerers and sorcerers were working together to reshape the crater into a road that wagons could ascend and descend through, so everyone could flee without having to run through the parts of the city the vampires still controlled. A long line of wagons loaded with necromancer families were already waited for them to finish, with more arriving from the dungeon and other parts of the city. There was tear streaked and frightened faces everywhere and the monstrous part of me found it quite pleasant.

The perpetual cloud of darkness still hung over the city, cutting off most of the sunlight, making the newly turned vampires a serious threat. Explosive cracks of thunder could be heard in the distance as the fighting continued. The surviving vampires had dug in and were on the defensive, but only until sunset.

Staying to finish them off would be a mistake. Reinforcements would show up at some point. Maybe not today, but definitely by tomorrow. There wasn’t enough time to kill them all and get away. We had to leave while we had the chance.

Carolyn was down a side road with Gorgath and anyone who wanted to travel with us. Most of the survivors who had taken my oath were with her. The only ones that were missing were the students who had fled. I could sense some of them flying north and south, trying to escape the ancient vampires who were still compelled to pursue them.

Baris nodded to me as I pass him. The wagons everyone were using held his family crest and carried industrial equipment and storage chests, showing they didn’t intent to come back. I didn’t need to ask his intentions. I could see it in his tear-streaked eyes. He was coming with us, and he was bringing the Undead Enhancement Club with him.

They would be useful in the future.

Rupert stepped in front of my guards as we approached Carolyn’s wagon. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was suffering from mana exhaustion, leaning on his staff to stop himself from swaying. He couldn’t throw a spell, but he didn’t back down. Every deathlord guarding our group turned to look at him, instinctively ready to throw down.

Rupert gritted his teeth and leapt back, jumping into the wagon. His thirty-three old monsters who had survived our escape were outnumbered four to one, and most were off helping build the road. Most of mine were fighting, but I still had twice as many people here as he did, and that wasn’t even counting those who had taken my oath.

He couldn’t stop us.

And he certainly wasn’t in charge.

Helen carried me to the edge of the wagon Carolyn was sharing with Amelia’s family and Riza. My daughter’s best friend was exhausted and stressed, but at least she was alive. So many weren’t.

“I’m told you wish to speak with me, Princess.”

Amelia smiled and waved. “Hi, Vincent.”

“Hello, Amelia.”

“I like your wings. They suit you.”

I knew which ones she was referring to and chose not to bring it up.

Carolyn raised a disapproving eyebrow at her handmaiden for her casual conversation, before turning to me. “Is Luke alive?”

Rupert cleared his throat, giving Carolyn the same disapproving look she’d given Amelia.

Celest was still travelling away at the same rate she’d been traveling for the past day. Nothing had stalled my children’s escape. If everything continued to go to plan, they would reach their destination late tomorrow evening.

“Luke’s fine. He should arrive safely tomorrow evening.”

She smiled. “Thank you for the update.” She straightened her back. “Now, I need to inform you that Arcadia cannot house the survivors of Necropolis.”

She was exhausted and worried, but that was still a poor lie.

“The entire province of Hellmouth is under populated, so we both know that’s not true. Your concerned I already have too much power and influence in your kingdom, and you don’t want me gaining a bunch of necromancer followers on top of what I already have.”

She winced. “Can’t you be a little more diplomatic?”

“Only when it suits me and right now it doesn’t suit me, Princess. Besides, it doesn't matter. Soon, I’ll be the Duke of Hellmouth.”

“Excuse me?”

Her surprise was expected, becoming the Duke of Hellmouth had never interested me before. “Your family does a passable job on managing your kingdom, but an appalling job of managing Hellmouth.”

“And you believe that’s a good enough reason for making you the Duke of Hellmouth.”

“No. I’m saying I’m not giving you a choice.”

Rupert gave a low growl, trying and failing to fill Sir Trent’s enormous shoes.

Carolyn scowled at him. “Stop it, cousin. Vincent never acts without reason.” She turned back to me. “Why do you suddenly want to control Hellmouth?”

“I’ve kicked the hornet’s nest here in North Murdell. Killing five truly ancient vampires in a day is no small feat. That’s enough to warrant retaliation from their queen. The obvious target is the hellmouth in Hellmouth. Opening it would cause me all sorts of problems with my grave so close.”

Rupert went pale. “Fuck.”

“Language.”

Carolyn considered my words. “Can you protect the province and hellmouth from them?”

“I think my chances are better than yours. All of your people who took my oath are dead.”

Her expression went cold. “Don’t disrespect my people’s sacrifice.”

If I could have smiled, I would have. She’d misinterpreted my words, but that was the right response for a good future queen. “I’m not making light of their deaths, Princess. I’m simply pointing out that your strongest guards are still under level 200, while none of mine are.”

I wasn’t happy about her losing people. I’d made plans for using Sir Trent’s talents to make my people stronger and now I have to figure out how to do everything without him. Finding someone to continue training my people was high on my priority list now that they were so strong. It was just under getting them new equipment. Titus had survived the battle, so he might be able to help, but I knew for a fact he didn’t have combat skill that Sir Trent did.

Carolyn accepted my explanation. “I don’t have the authority to make you the Duke of Hellmouth.”

I knew that.

“Write to your father.”

“He’ll say no.”

“He will, but your conscience will be clear when I decide to force the matter.”

“Please don’t kill him.” She blurted out so quickly that it was obvious she understood how weak her family’s position now was.

“I don’t need to kill him. Waltzing through his security and taking him hostage would be enough to make my point. Now, back to our original topic. I have no objections to you stopping the Necropolis’s survivors from following us.”

“You don’t?”

“They aren’t your people, and you’re not obligated to help them. However, many of them have heard the necrosaint’s call and become acolytes. Arcadia’s treaty with the church allows their members to migrate to your kingdom with their families, so they’re coming whether you like it or not. You’re welcome to bring that up with the church if you have a problem with it.”

Rupert leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Anyone who hears the call of saint is no danger to Arcadia. Accept the small victory. We can discuss the duke issue later.”

“Thank you for sharing your position. I won’t keep you any longer. I imagine it’s going to be a long road home, and you have much to organise.”

I ignored the dismissal. “The families of those who took my oath will also be coming with us.”

Any other time, I would have turned and walked away in a dramatic fashion, leaving her no room to argue back, but I was stuck sitting on a pillow. Carolyn was already opening her mouth to protest.

I turned to Helen. “That was the moment to leave.”

Amelia giggled as Carolyn began to protest.