The sound of steel shod boot heels striking the hard stone in a confident cadence echoed through the deep tunnel beneath the Nameless Swamp. Vathec could move in utter silence, could remove all trace of his presence, yet he let his oppressive aura drown the tunnel and let his steps ring for all to hear. The stone walls seemed to warp and distort as he passed, and the air grew heavy and viscous. He smiled widely, happy to stretch his legs and enjoy a pleasant journey for the sake of his great master.

There was even some exotic prey that didn’t immediately flee before the Only King’s aura. They didn’t provide any real exercise, but their novel appearance was an interesting distraction. It would be fair to call them dragonkin, Vathec decided. They resembled a centaur, but with a draconic lower half instead of the usual equine base. Their dark scaled bodies shimmered with an eerie iridescence under the dim light of the abundant luminescent fungi.

They spoke to each other in a language that even his Appraisal skill couldn’t unlock, and wore enchanted trinkets and garments which spoke of a culture passed down from an age long past.

He figured Thornwhisper would likely rate them at around two thousand each on her scale of power, but given that they traveled in groups of three or more and used clever teamwork they could probably be adjusted higher.

It mattered little in either case. Vathec wouldn’t even need to draw a weapon against such pitiful attacks. Strikes and spells below a certain threshold couldn’t even reach his body, and any lower creatures that met his gaze were struck dead and immediately absorbed into his Household.

Dragonkin poured out of side passages and roared out valiant battlecries. Devastating breath weapons scorched the tunnels, and high tiered magic ripped in endless waves. Meanwhile, Vathec was ponderously observing the peculiar architecture and carvings, or bending down to examine some curious fungi. All before him was chaos, and all behind him the peace of the grave.

Thus was the outer prison sanctum of Andvaria, the Absence of Health and Fortune conquered for the first time. It had withstood countless adventurers, religious crusades, and even the great cataclysm of Rakashi. Vathec soon stood before a monumental sealed portal. It was crafted of mithril and platinum, and inlaid with runic arrays designed by archmages of a lost age.

Vathec looked at it with mild appreciation, and brushed his bone-white fingers over some of the runes. It was a shame that he must destroy such an elegant barrier, but his mission would not be obstructed. He rested his hand against the cold surface, and gave it a nudge. A liquid ripple spread outward from his palm like a stone thrown into a pond. The runes flared once in resistance, then the portal exploded. A stray shard of the barrier grazed the vampire king’s cheek, drawing a tiny drop of black blood. The blood withdrew into the wound, which closed instantly, and Vathec grinned brightly. He would need to send in some workers to harvest that material if it could damage even his body.

He strolled past the rubble without further delay, finding a short hallway leading to a large domed chamber. It was perhaps thirty meters across, the walls and floor were covered with sealing runic arrays similar to those on the portal.

He felt a presence at the center of the room, and focused his attention. So here was the object of his quest - a female child in a ragged white dress with her face hidden by her pale knees, which she hugged with tiny arms. Thick black hair grew so long that it sat in lustrous piles all around her. She was crying softly, a sound that moved even the cold stone heart of the Only King.

As Vathec took a step over the first concentric rune circle on the floor, she lifted her face to look in his direction. The countenance was mostly human, save for the small obsidian scales covering her pronounced cheekbones and gaunt cheeks.

“W-who... are... is-is it?” She struggled to speak, probably the first words she had uttered in centuries. “Back... if close... sick... die.”

“Fear not, little one.” Vathec’s voice was benevolent. “Your power cannot harm one such as mineself.” He walked calmly right up to her, and sat down on the floor across from her.

Stolen story; please report.

“You... aren’t sick?” Her bloodshot eyes widened, and Vathec couldn’t help but marvel at the brilliance of those orbs. Each iris was ablaze with greenish yellow light, and the void-black pupils were vertical slits. She must have been a pariah from birth, likely enduring countless execution attempts by mortal zealots.

“This old one remains unchanging, forevermore.” Vathec assured her.

“That’s... good. Church sent you... to kill? They tried... but... can’t die. Wish... could die. Alone. Hurts. Too long...” Vathec’s grim assumptions proved true, and he felt disgust mix with sadness in his mind.

“I shan’t destroy you, little one.” Vathec rebuffed her as his eyes began to glow a bright red.

He focused his magical sight on the rampaging and discordant energies within the girl’s body. It was something supernatural to the sensibilities of this world - an aspect spirit in the vague shape of a dragon. It was a concept that raged against life itself, spontaneously creating malignant cancers and widespread pestilence. It could even tamper with probability, inviting disaster where none would normally occur.

Such powers were typically reserved for lifeforms representing local deities or higher. This was the heart of the Nameless Swamp, and the true cause of the twisted and tainted environment for so many miles around. Such a thing might interfere with his master’s plans if left to its own devices, so Vathec made a decision.

“You needn’t be alone or in pain any longer, little one.” He stood, and reached a hand down to her. “Merely take my hand, and I shall welcome you into my family. Haven’t you always wanted a family?”

“Family...” She could barely be heard, and she looked up at Vathec with tears rimming her viper eyes. “Papa?”

“You may indeed think of mineself as thine father.” He nodded with a growing smile. “What is thy name, little one?”

“Don’t... remember.” She said hesitantly.

“My master said the one I would find here was known as Andvaria. How dost thee fancy the name ‘Andria’?”

“An...dria.” She repeated, then smiled. “Good.”

“Very well.” Vathec said, reaching out to take the girl’s hand once more. She reached out slowly, nervous about touching another person for the first time that she could remember.

The instant her skin touched his, Vathec’s consciousness went to war. Like a champion carrying her favor into battle, Vathec set out to subdue the delinquent dragon aspect.

It was a mighty lifeforce. Vathec hadn’t yet met its equal in this world aside from his own master or himself. It sought to unravel him, to force discordant motes of pure rot to spring up within his soul. It was an admirable struggle, and this creature’s power would surely be rated in the tens of thousands. Unfortunately for the beast, this world was immature, and Vathec was a terrible old monster on the scales of the universe. If Andvaria was a fragment of an apocalypse, Vathec was its woeful entirety.

The rampaging aspect of disease and misfortune was overwhelmed, buried under the weight of the entire dead world which Vathec had destroyed and stolen away within himself. He seized the discordant energy which had been wracking the girl with unrelenting agony for an eternity, swallowing it like a like a morsel of bitter gristle. Try as it might, the essence of the chaotic aspect Andvaria could never be anything more than an impotent drop in the bottomless well that was the Only King’s inner world.

“That should feel better.” Vathec said, patting her head. “Thou hast been a very brave girl to endure that unruly little spirit for so long. Once it’s learned some manners I shall reunite the two of you.”

“No more... hurt..?” Andria, free of the hellish pain for the first time opened her eyes. Her voice was cautious, and skeptical. She moved her arms and touched her own face, tears of unfathomable relief welling in her eyes. “Papa... no more hurt!” The little girl jumped, easily launching herself into Vathec’s armored chest.

How could this just suddenly happen? She had given up on ever seeing the light of day. She could not die, and could not live. It was simply her fate to exist in pain and darkness forever. She had accepted that after so many years, and yet this person had simply marched in and granted her every long forgotten wish.

With a swipe of his free hand, Vathec sent a wave of dark crimson energy across the runic arrays. Their effects failed, and Andria was well and truly free to leave. He moved to let her down so that she could walk out with him, but her grip tightened around his neck.

“Alright then, but just until we reach the surface.” He gave in and began to walk.

The Only King carried Andria all the way back to their castle. She had fallen into a deep sleep in his arms as he walked through the tunnels, and he did not have it in him to wake her. She probably hadn’t had any proper sleep in thousands of years.

“I see we have gained a new family member.” Thornwhisper’s disembodied voice greeted him as he gently laid the girl down in one of the guest rooms prepared for travelers or other allies. “Even without the spirit aspect, she is quite strong. With training, she may surpass sir Mallek.”

“We shall take it slow.” Vathec spoke to the empty air. “She delayed her childhood for thousands of years, it’s past time for her to indulge in some proper coddling.”

“As you wish, my king.” Thornwhisper acknowledged. “Perhaps this would be more suitable.”

A wave of illusion magic spread across the room, covering the walls in soft and delightful pastel colors. Fluffy pillows knitted themselves from nothingness on the feather bed, and lavish carpets appeared on the stone floor. The skeletal attendant by the door transformed into a young chambermaid with bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks, with sandy brown hair done up in a neat bun.

“This appearance will carry a passive maintenance cost of two hundred and ninety four Soul Energy per hour. Operations won’t be impacted, and our net passive Household Regeneration rate will be adjusted to four thousand, six hundred and twenty-two Soul Energy per hour. Is that acceptable?” Thornwhisper’s reporting was as thorough as ever.

“It is.” Vathec gave the sleeping child one last look before exiting the daintily decorated room.