Victoria’s heart quickened, and an uneasy feeling settled within her. The presence of another champion meant a formidable opponent, one who could potentially threaten her plans and even her very existence, especially in her weakened condition. The realization dawned on her that her only shield against the deadly sunlight was the coffin strapped to the carriage, heightening her sense of vulnerability. Was I wise to reject the blood of my thralls, she wondered.
The imposing oni champion stepped forward, his gaze piercing as he surveyed the scene before him. He stood tall, a formidable figure among his kind. His muscular frame reached nearly seven feet in height, exuding raw power and strength. Prominent, curling black horns adorned his head, marking him as an oni most unusually blessed.
The oni’s long brown hair hung in matted strands, tinged with the stains of battle, a testament to his ferocity and pursuit of victory. A rugged beard framed his face, adding to his imposing visage. His features, hardened and stern, were etched with a perpetual scowl.
Dressed in white furs that draped over his broad shoulders, the champion wore sturdy leather armor that hugged his muscular form, providing both protection and agility in battle. The furs served as a stark contrast against his dark, bloodstained hair and fierce countenance, creating an intimidating presence that commanded attention.
In each hand, the oni champion wielded a wickedly sharp axe. The gleaming blades, stained with the blood of countless foes, reflected the anger burning within him. Similarly, his face was flushed with a deep red hue, embodying his fiery temperament. His anger burned like an inferno, lending an aura of primal intensity to his every action.
The oni champion questioned the gathered thralls before him, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. "Why do I find you all gathered here rather than attending to the needs of the village? And why do you point your spears at me? Do you not recognize your champion, Azok Bloodletter? We have fought side by side."
Victoria swiftly sent a telepathic message to Malon, a former elder of the village, instructing him to negotiate with Azok. "Try to reason with him. We must avoid unnecessary conflict, especially during daylight."
Malon stepped forward, addressing the champion with a respectful tone. "Welcome, Azok. I am relieved to see you well. Our village has suffered a terrible tragedy. An evil force swept through, claiming many lives in the darkness. Even our revered forefather could not defend against it. We were forced to retreat and are now on a journey to find a new sanctuary."
Azok's gaze narrowed, suspicion evident in his eyes. "There is much you are not telling me. Explain why you travel with this carriage and these two humans."
Malon gestured towards Carl and Rosella, who were seated in the carriage. "These humans offered us aid and assistance when we needed it most. They have helped us evacuate, and their mistress has graciously extended her sanctuary to us."
"No further assistance is needed. I am here now, and I will protect you," Azok declared with conviction. "Return with me and these noble hunters to the village, and together we will give our fallen comrades a proper burial."
Malon shook his head, a hint of regret on his face. "I am sorry, but we cannot go back with you. We have made an obligation to our mistress in exchange for our deliverance."
Azok's expression shifted to one of confusion. "This does not make sense. Where are the proud warriors I fought alongside? And who is this mistress you speak of?" The other hunters with Azok scowled at the oni thralls, sharing their leader's skepticism.
Malon paused, and Victoria sent him instructions. “You may tell him my name and that I am a champion, but not that I am a vampire nor that I am here with you.”
"We remain the proud warriors you remember,” Malon answered with confidence. “It is not cowardice to avoid a battle we cannot win; it is wisdom. With our mistress, we can achieve greater things. Rest assured, our strength and valor remain intact. As for the mistress, her name is Victoria Vanbelden. She is a champion, much like you."
Anger ignited within Azok, his face flushing red. "You would align yourselves with another champion? Is she even an oni?"
"Please, Azok, there is no need for anger. We stand among friends," Malon implored, his voice steady and patient. "Choose to leave in peace or travel with us to meet the mistress."
Azok growled, his frustration mounting. "Enough of these falsehoods! I will not listen any longer. You dare forsake our clan to side with another champion? I will rid you of this curse and free you by eliminating these humans."
The tension in the air escalated, the oni thralls and hunters locking eyes in a battle of wills and loyalties.
Victoria's mind raced, searching for a strategy to protect herself and secure her escape. She knew she couldn't risk exposing her true intentions. Without hesitation, she summoned her psionic prowess and unleashed a mind spike, directing it towards the oni champion. The surge of mental energy surged through the air, targeting his consciousness.
Victoria swiftly ordered her thralls into action. The oni, armed and ready, immediately heeded their mistress's command, launching themselves at the enemy champion with fierce determination.
Amidst the tumultuous clash of weapons and the cries of combat, the oni thralls valiantly fought, driven by their unwavering allegiance to Victoria. Yet, it became painfully evident that their lack of combat experience rendered them vulnerable. The trained warriors of the opposing force, with their honed skills and superior weaponry, swiftly overpowered the oni thralls, cutting through their defenses with lethal precision.
Victoria, aware of the dire situation, called upon her psionic powers to unleash devastating mind spikes upon the enemy, but each use of her power caused her more pain. The sun’s damage was causing far-reaching consequences for her. The surge of mental energy struck with precision, disrupting the focus of the opposing force and creating openings for her thralls to seize upon. With renewed determination, the oni thralls launched a series of coordinated attacks, their loyalty and dedication driving them to fight despite their limited training.
Strike by strike, blow by blow, the fierce battle continued, the forest echoing with the clash of weapons and the pained cries of combatants. The hunters, formidable adversaries, gradually succumbed to the relentless assault of Victoria's thralls, falling one by one under the combined might of their attacks.
The oni champion, his realization dawning upon him, recognized the significance of the coffin strapped to the carriage. Realizing that the source of the villagers' peculiar behavior lay within, he swiftly altered his strategy, his gaze fixed upon the object of his suspicion.
With the champion closing in on her coffin, Victoria swiftly tapped into her telekinetic abilities. She seized nearby objects with her mind, hurling them with precision toward the advancing adversary. Though her telekinetic assault proved disruptive, it was Leroy's valiant but futile attempts to impede the champion's progress that ultimately did little more than irritate him as he blinked in to slash at his eyes or groin.
Undeterred, the champion pressed forward, fueled by his determination and desire to destroy whatever had changed his neighbors into madmen. However, the sheer numbers and mindless attacks of Victoria's thralls, uncaring for their own safety, proved to be the turning point in the battle. Spearheads and sword blades glinted in the sun as the thralls mobbed the champion, striking at him with ferocity.
As the clash reached its climax, the champion found himself overwhelmed by their onslaught. With each strike, his defenses crumbled until, finally, he succumbed to the combined might of the thralls. Victoria's command echoed through the thrall’s minds. “Spare his life! Relieve him of his possessions and lock him in the trunk in my carriage. I will need food for later.” She ached to consume the champion immediately, but she couldn’t see a solution where she wasn’t exposed to light again.
The thralls shifted their focus, their blows becoming measured and controlled, aimed at incapacitating rather than killing. With the champion defeated and subdued, the oni thralls meticulously stripped him of his weapons and armor, ensuring that he posed no further threat. They bound him tightly, rendering him immobile, and then placed him within the empty trunk, fitting him inside the carriage. It would serve as a temporary prison.
Victoria surveyed the scene with her senses, her expression a mix of satisfaction and hunger. The defeated champion, now a captive within the confines of the trunk, would provide a satisfying meal once evening fell.
As the carriage rumbled along the winding mountain roads, Victoria allowed herself to sleep and further rejuvenate her damaged body. She reclined against the plush cushions inside the coffin, feeling the gentle sway of the carriage lull her into a state of relaxation. The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves echoed in the surrounding silence, a soothing melody that blended harmoniously with the rustling of the wind.
Within the carriage, the thralls diligently searched for the most optimal route through the treacherous mountain passes. Their keen eyes scanned the terrain, assessing the safest paths to navigate, while Lum, the apprentice mage, called upon his magical prowess. With intricate incantations and gestures, Lum cast spells to divine the hidden dangers and chart a course that would lead them unscathed to their destination.
When she awoke, Victoria observed their diligent efforts, appreciating the dedication and resourcefulness of her companions. She marveled at the way their individual talents intertwined, forging a collective strength that propelled them forward on their journey. The camaraderie and unity among the group filled the carriage with an air of determination and shared purpose.
The passing hours slowly gave way to the descending darkness of the night sky. The canopy of stars above provided a celestial backdrop, casting a serene ambiance over the carriage and its occupants. Lum's whispered incantations intermingled with the gentle rustling of maps and the soft hum of conversation as they planned their way through the mountainous terrain.
Victoria again slipped into a regenerative sleep. In this timeless state, she embraced the solace of oblivion, temporarily freed from the demands of her vampiric nature. She surrendered herself to the gentle ebb and flow of dreams, where fragmented visions danced in the recesses of her subconscious mind. Unburdened by the weight of her responsibilities and the perpetual hunt for survival, she found a fleeting respite in the sanctuary of her slumber.
Yet, even in this state of dormancy, a faint ember of awareness flickered within her, an instinctual vigilance that never truly extinguished. It kept a tenuous connection to the world beyond, ready to rouse her from her rest should danger encroach upon her sanctuary. In this serene sleep, she remained ever vigilant, attuned to the dormant whispers of her surroundings.
And so, Victoria remained ensconced within the tranquil embrace of her regenerative sleep, cocooned in the realm between wakefulness and dreams. Eventually, she emerged from her state to assess herself. Her face still felt like a burned corpse, with empty eye sockets, no lips, nor ears. Of her two hands, one was skeletal, the other shriveled like a mummy’s. Most of the healing had evidently been focused inward. With her sanguine sense, she felt the carriage moving onward.
Her thoughts danced between the challenges they had already overcome and the mysteries that awaited them within the vampire manor. She knew that their journey was far from over, that greater trials and revelations lay just beyond the horizon. At the same time, she continued to practice her sanguine sight.
When evening came, Victoria eagerly left her coffin to join the others inside. The oni shrank back at the sight of such a freakish creature emerging from their mistress’s coffin, but the bond between them told them that the cursed creature in front of them was indeed their mistress. With a predatory need, Victoria approached the trunk that held the defeated champion captive. She could feel the hunger coursing through her veins, a primal urge that demanded satiation. As she unlatched the trunk, a wave of anticipation washed over her.
With excitement and longing, Victoria exposed the vulnerable form of the champion, his bindings holding him captive. The scent of his fear mingled with her own anticipation, heightening the intensity of the moment. Without hesitation, she sank her fangs into his exposed flesh, the taste of his life essence flooding her senses.
As she drank deeply, the champion's strength waned, his life force slipping away with every precious drop. The rich, coppery flavor danced upon Victoria's tongue, eliminating her pain and invigorating her with newfound vitality. Her senses heightened, sharpened by the elixir of power that coursed through her veins. The life force of the defeated champion flowed into her, fueling her vampiric essence. Her scarred, burned flesh melted away to reveal perfect ivory skin beneath. New eyes formed in her sockets. In moments, the pain from her burns faded away. Flesh reknit itself for form a new hand that gripped her victim with urgency.
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In the depths of her feeding frenzy, Victoria's mind embraced the primal nature of her being. The exhilaration of taking from others, the dominance over her prey, and the all-encompassing thirst that consumed her merged to form a euphoric symphony that resonated within her core. As the last remnants of life faded from the champion's body, Victoria withdrew, a glimmer of satisfaction shining in her eyes. She wiped her blood-stained lips, savoring the taste of her conquest. A notification blinked, congratulating her on eliminating the champion, Azok Bloodletter and granting her another three skill points to allocate.
All the power of the champion had been funneled to her healing, leaving her still hungry and weakened. “Get rid of the body. It is no longer any use to us.” Victoria's command echoed through the air, authoritative and resolute. The oni thralls immediately sprang into action, following her directive without question, elated to see their mistress restored to health and power. With little regard for the champion, they swiftly dumped the lifeless body on the side of the road.
Meanwhile, Victoria's attention turned to the remnant spirit of the fallen champion. Her eyes shimmered with a mix of curiosity and determination as she extended her supernatural abilities toward the ethereal essence. With a surge of concentration, she channeled her will, tapping into her newfound summoning power.
The air crackled with dark energy as Victoria's connection with the spirit deepened, her influence intertwining with its essence. In a mesmerizing display of supernatural mastery, she harnessed her vampiric abilities to transform the spirit into a wraith neophyte, a manifestation of her command over the realm between life and death.
The ethereal essence rippled and shifted, taking on a new form under Victoria's guidance. The once-defeated champion's spirit transformed into a spectral entity, its features twisted and distorted, now reborn as a wraith neophyte under Victoria's control. The dark power emanating from the newly formed creature radiated with an eerie aura, ready to carry out its mistress's bidding.
With a sense of satisfaction, Victoria observed her creation, a servant born from the remnants of her vanquished foe. The wraith neophyte hovered nearby, its ethereal form coalescing and dissipating in a mesmerizing dance. The creature exuded a chilling aura, a testament to Victoria's dominion over the supernatural forces that dwelled within her.
Embracing her newfound power, Victoria issued a command to the wraith neophyte to guard her. The spectral entity, now under her control, stood poised to fulfill its mistress's desires, its existence forever entwined with Victoria's will.
Victoria's gaze shifted towards her character sheet, where the entry for the newly formed wraith neophyte stood proudly. She paused, contemplating the significance of granting a name to her ethereal creation. While the wraith exuded an air of otherworldly power, Victoria sensed its limited intellect, understanding that it would require time and guidance to develop further.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she deliberated over the perfect name for her loyal servant. The name needed to reflect both the essence of its newfound existence and the bond they shared. After a moment of consideration, a name emerged from Victoria's mind—a name that captured the spirit and purpose of her creation.
"Grant," she pronounced, her voice resonating with authority. The name carried a weight of significance, embodying the idea of bestowing power and opportunity upon her wraith neophyte. It symbolized the granting of a new existence and purpose, a manifestation of her dominion over the ethereal realms.
Grant, the wraith neophyte, floated nearby, seemingly unaffected by the name bestowed upon it. Victoria understood that the wraith's comprehension of its new identity might be limited, but she was confident that, with time and their shared experiences, it would grow in understanding and power.
Victoria gracefully stepped into the carriage, joining the others in its sheltering interior, while Grant stationed himself above, next to Leroy on the roof. Seated among her loyal thralls, Victoria resumed her reading, poring over the books with rapt attention. As the carriage rolled forward, the rhythmic sound of hooves and the creaking of wheels providing a soothing backdrop, she absorbed the knowledge contained within the pages. The flickering light of a lantern cast a soft flickering glow on her face, highlighting the intensity in her eyes as she delved deeper into the history and culture of her new world.
The hours passed, marked by the turning of pages and the occasional murmur of conversation between Lum and the thralls. The anticipation grew palpable as the carriage carried them ever closer to their destination. In the midst of her studious pursuits, Victoria was drawn out of her scholarly reverie by the voice of Carl, the coachman, announcing a sighting on the horizon.
With a quickened heartbeat, Victoria's gaze followed Carl's outstretched finger, leading her eyes to a distant silhouette nestled between the rugged chasm of the mountains.
“Do you see it, mistress?” Carl asked with hope in his eyes. “It appears and disappears, but I know something is out there.”
Her vision was far sharper than his in the dark. She easily spotted a roof, faintly visible against the twilight sky. It would be a good location for a vampire estate, nestled in the chasm in the mountain face where little daylight would reach it. A surge of excitement and anticipation coursed through Victoria's veins as she wondered what or who they might find there.
The frustration grew palpable as Victoria's thralls struggled to find a clear path toward the elusive vampire manor. Despite catching sight of the roofline in the distance, an unseen force seemed to manipulate their senses, leading them astray. Sensing their plight, Victoria resolved to take matters into her own hands, relying on her vampiric instincts and formidable mental powers.
Closing her eyes, Victoria extended her heightened senses, delving into the ethereal realm of psionic energy. With each breath, she honed her focus, reaching out to grasp the threads of compulsion that obscured their path. Like an intrepid explorer charting an uncharted territory, she navigated the labyrinthine corridors of mental influence, determined to uncover the truth that lay hidden.
With a surge of mental energy, Victoria pushed against the invisible barriers, unraveling the web of deception that ensnared her thralls. She guided Carl through the hidden passageway that remained concealed from mortal eyes. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a path that had eluded them all along.
Deeper into the chasm they ventured, the air growing colder and the shadows thickening around them. Victoria's presence radiated with a solid determination, her indomitable willpower carving a path through the darkness.
As they pressed forward, the manor loomed ever closer, its eerie silhouette growing more distinct against the backdrop of the looming chasm. Victoria's senses became sharp, attuned to the pulse of the arcane energies that permeated the surroundings.
Soon, the vampire estate fully revealed itself. The imposing structure stood like a fortress, hidden away within the dark depths of the mountain. Its weathered stone walls, adorned with intricate carvings and towering buttresses, hinted at a history steeped in darkness and secrets.
The manor was more like a castle. Its formidable size and architectural complexity commanded awe and reverence. Towers reached skyward, their silhouettes blending with the surrounding jagged peaks. Gargoyles perched atop the battlements, their stone faces frozen in eternal vigilance, casting eerie shadows upon the moonlit courtyard below.
The entrance to the estate beckoned with an air of mystery and foreboding. A massive iron gate, festooned with intricate ironwork depicting scenes of violence, guarded the threshold.
Victoria approached the massive iron gate, her instincts guiding her. With her hand outstretched, her fingertips made contact with the cold metal, and a surge of energy passed between them. The gate responded to her touch, recognizing her vampiric essence, the heavy iron yielding without resistance.
Without a sound, the gate swung open, its rusty hinges groaning softly in protest against the movement. The air seemed to hold its breath as Victoria stepped through, crossing the threshold into the hidden realm of the vampire castle. Victoria's eyes scanned the estate, noting the intricate detailing of the windows, many decorated with stained glass that depicted hauntingly beautiful scenes. The glass shimmered ethereally in the moonlight, casting a mesmerizing glow upon the surroundings.
Victoria approached the carriage, her gaze focused on the oni guard perched atop it. With a flicker of her intense vampire eyes, she sent a compelling aura through her gaze, commanding the oni to vacate his position. Under her mesmerizing influence, the guard obediently stepped down from the carriage, surrendering his post to her without resistance.
Carl, the loyal coachman, skillfully guided the carriage through the weathered stone archway that marked the entrance to the estate's courtyard. The once grand space now lay in ruins, nature's relentless reclaiming transforming it into a tangled wilderness of twisted vines and overgrown weeds. The courtyard's cracked cobblestones served as a testament to the passage of time, their weathered surfaces telling tales of forgotten glory.
As the carriage rolled forward, its wheels creating a soft rumble over the uneven ground, Victoria observed the encroaching foliage. Vines snaked their way up the decaying walls, clinging to the remnants of once majestic architecture. The sight of nature's reclamation added an eerie beauty to the desolation, giving the impression that the estate had been long forgotten by the world outside.
Through the overgrown vegetation, glimpses of the once opulent courtyard came into view. Crumbling statues stood as silent sentinels, their features eroded by time and weather. Ivy tendrils, like nature's embrace, wrapped around the intricate stonework, intertwining with delicate precision.
As the carriage passed through the courtyard, the atmosphere carried a sense of melancholy. The whispers of the wind echoed through the overgrown archways, and the rustle of leaves added a haunting soundtrack to the scene. The air felt heavy with the weight of forgotten memories as if the very essence of the estate mourned its former splendor.
Victoria, ever vigilant, took in the sight of the deteriorating courtyard. Her vampiric senses heightened, she noticed the delicate scent of decay mingling with the earthy aroma of the overgrown foliage. It was a reminder of the passage of time, a reminder that even the grandest of legacies would eventually succumb to the embrace of nature.
Crumbling statues of long-forgotten figures stood as sentinels, bearing witness to the passage of time. The air carried an aura of faded elegance as if the estate's former glory lingered in the whispers of the wind.
As Victoria approached the grand entrance of the estate, and, just like the gate, its towering double doors swung open before her, revealing a dimly lit interior. The heavy doors, once polished and adorned with intricate carvings, now bore the marks of age and neglect, the signs of a forgotten past. Yet, despite the passage of time, they moved with an eerie grace, as if acknowledging Victoria's presence and yielding to her authority.
“Lum, you and the other guards are to follow my lead,” Victoria commanded. “Rosella nd Carl, return to find the rest of our people and lead them here.”
The thralls immediately obeyed as Victoria stepped toward the threshold of the vampire castle. Victoria’s vampire senses were keenly aware of the ethereal ambiance that permeated the air. The interior of the estate echoed with whispers of forgotten memories and ghostly echoes of a bygone era.
The atmosphere grew more palpable with each step, shrouding Victoria and her companions in an otherworldly embrace. Lum, his eyes glimmering with a mix of trepidation and curiosity, cast a wary glance around, his magical prowess ready to be unleashed if needed. The guards, armed and determined, walked with a disciplined stride, their presence adding a touch of stoic vigilance to the group.
Alongside Victoria, her spectral companions, Leroy and Grant, trailed like shadows, their presence felt rather than seen. The wraith neophyte, Grant, emitted an aura of eerie stillness, his form shifting and flickering with ethereal energy. Leroy, ever vigilant, moved with a grace that defied his physical form, his feline instincts guiding him through the dimly lit corridors.
As the doors closed behind her, sealing off the outside world, Victoria pressed forward, leading her party into the depths of the vampire manor. She found herself immersed in a scene of timeless elegance. The air within was pristine, devoid of even a hint of dust, as if time itself had been suspended within these walls. The contrast between the dilapidated exterior and the immaculate interior was stark and captivating.
Before her, a vast expanse of marbled flooring stretched out, its smooth surface reflecting the faint glow of the crystal chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. Each chandelier, adorned with intricate crystal prisms, cast a soft and ethereal radiance that illuminated the space with a mesmerizing play of light and shadow.
The walls rose magnificently, adorned with ornate tapestries and gilded frames, housing portraits of long-forgotten individuals who had once graced the halls of the manor. The tapestries, meticulously woven with vibrant colors and beautiful, complex patterns, depicted scenes from a distant era frozen in time.
At the center of the entryway, a grand staircase swept upwards, its polished wooden steps gleaming under the gentle illumination. The intricately carved banisters, etched with delicate filigree designs, beckoned Victoria to ascend, hinting at the secrets hidden on the upper floors.
Intricate details adorned every inch of the entryway, from the elaborate crown moldings to the marble columns that lined the sides, supporting the structure's weight with graceful strength. The ceiling soared overhead, featuring a breathtaking mural depicting celestial beings and mythical creatures, their forms intertwining in a tapestry of artistry and mystique.
As Victoria stood in awe, she could almost hear echoes of past footsteps, the soft rustling of silk gowns, and hushed whispers of conversations long gone. The atmosphere exuded a sense of grandeur and aristocratic charm, the remnants of a bygone era that refused to be forgotten.
“Still,” a powerful voice intoned from the darkness.
Immediately, Victoria’s party was frozen. Her spectral companions were unresponsive to her mental queries.
As if emerging from the depths of the very earth itself, the ancient vampire materialized before Victoria with ethereal grace. His arrival was nothing short of mesmerizing, a spectral figure rising from the floor in a seamless and fluid motion. Each movement exuded an otherworldly aura as if he were a being of pure darkness given form.
Cloaked in an air of majesty and power, the ancient vampire commanded attention with his mere presence. His countenance spoke of centuries of existence, etched with age and wisdom. His eyes, hypnotizing and intense, gleamed with an ethereal glow, drawing Victoria into their depths. It was as if they held the secrets of a thousand lifetimes, a captivating allure that could enthrall even the most steadfast souls.
His attire, befitting his timeless elegance, draped his form with regal splendor. Luxurious fabrics embraced his slender figure, flowing gracefully with each movement. A cloak of deep ebony cascaded from his broad shoulders, its rich folds seemingly woven from the very essence of night itself. Adornments of intricately crafted silver and onyx adorned his garments, accentuating his air of authority and refinement.
Radiating an aura of power and command, the ancient vampire stood tall and imposing, exuding an innate sense of strength that echoed through the room. His presence was a testament to the weight of centuries, the accumulated knowledge and experiences etched into his immortal being. Here was a vampire that could destroy with a thought, commanding untold powers that defied imagination and Victoria was utterly at his mercy.