Accel14
patreon
Dryadic Dragon: Chapter 39: Thora’s Tale
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 13:04:18 +0000 UTCChapter 39: Thora’s Tale I flipped my hood down and took off my mask, gazing at it pensively. I know I was trying to bring out their anger
Chapter 39: Thora’s Tale I flipped my hood down and took off my mask, gazing at it pensively. I know I was trying to bring out their anger
Chapter 39: Thora’s Tale
I flipped my hood down and took off my mask, gazing at it pensively.
I know I was trying to bring out their anger on purpose to encourage them to come at me with all their strength, but I wasn’t expecting myself to get so “into character” there.
Good grief. I definitely went a little further than I should’ve with the insults, especially the ones I threw at Rias. Not that they were completely infactual, cough cough, just a tad bit harsher than they needed to be.
Oh well, I still achieved what I set out to do. I have a much better idea of what I’m working with, so planning how I’m going to train each of them should be a lot easier. Usually, I would’ve taken my time to scope out their strengths and weaknesses in a more courteous fashion, however, time is of the essence, I had no choice but to take a more streamlined approach.
Come to think of it, there’s still one member of the Gremory Group I’ve yet to meet, isn't there? I might as well pay them a visit while I’m at it.
Although, I should probably tend to the ones I just pummeled before I do so. I’d feel a little guilty if I just left them lying on the soil like this.
I started with Isaiah, who Akeno’s Holy Lightning had grazed. I crouched down and placed my palm on his chest, allowing a soft, green glow to emanate from my hand as I mended his wounds with my Dryadic Blessing. He wasn’t hit with enough Holy Power to make it life-threatening, but I’m willing to bet it hurt like hell.
I hoisted the Knight over my shoulders before proceeding to pick up Shirone, Akeno, and Rias alongside him. Thanks to this draconic composition of mine, they barely weigh a thing to me. Making it exceedingly easy for me to hop up to the window frame of their clubroom while I was carrying them and climb right in. Gently, I set each of them down on the couch, after confirming that their conditions were all stable, of course.
“Sylvie,” I called for my familiar.
“Yes, massster?” She poked her adorable little head through my collar.
“Stay here and watch over them, while I doubt it’ll happen, I want you to inform me if their bodies experience any complications, and I’d also like you to let me know when they wake up.”
I was particularly concerned about Akeno and Shirone, after all, they both used abilities they hadn’t touched for quite some time now. There’s a chance that could cause some kind of adverse reaction. Though I’m not sure what, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“Underssstood, I’ll place a clone of myself here to watch over them.” Another version of her slithered out of my cloak and curled up on top of the coffee table. Sylvie’s Senjutsu prowess exceeds even mine, she’s the best person I have at my disposal to keep track of their conditions.
“Thank you,” I nodded appreciatively before exiting the clubroom.
I scanned the area for the supposed seal Gasper’s file had mentioned, apparently, because of his lack of control over his power, Lord Lucifer created one to seclude him and his power from everyone else to prevent him from “harming” other people. Which, frankly, has me disappointed in both him and Rias for going along with such an irresponsible plan.
I’m aware that Gasper was given the option to roam the old schoolhouse on the condition that he remain within it, and that Gasper himself refused that suggestion. However, I find Lord Lucifer’s approach itself fundamentally flawed. Having Gasper avoid his power isn’t the solution here, I imagine all that’s done is further his isolationist tendencies. That’s no way for a child to live if you ask me.
Instead, they should’ve supported him, taught him how to control something that’d remain a part of him whether he wanted it to or not. I’m appalled that Rias would allow such potential to stay dormant instead of capitalizing on it as much as possible. Then again, considering his power, I suppose it’s highly likely she just wasn’t capable of honing something that strong.
Good grief, you should’ve thought twice before spoon-feeding your little sister a peerage that strong, Lord Lucifer. They have more potential than she’s capable of managing.
I guess that’s precisely why I’m here.
Confident that I had located the seal, I started to wander through the hallways of the schoolhouse, taking some time to gander around. It’s been precisely one lifetime since I was amongst humanity after all, might as well enjoy the scenery while I can.
From the looks of things, the human world seems about the same as it was in my first life, if you ignore the hidden supernatural aspects.
Time-wise, we seem to be in the year 2008. Which explains a lot of the technology differences I’m spotting, the Underworld’s clearly ahead in that regard, and I couldn’t be more thankful for Lord Beelzebub’s expertise.
My spoiled modern ass would rather use a carrier pigeon before I settle for a flip phone.
Bingo.
I stopped in front of a wooden double-door that had been barricaded with planks and covered in caution tape. I’m not sure what the point of having all this here is, as there’s already a seal in place, and no one else inhabits the schoolhouse other than Rias and her subordinates.
I extended my arm, feeling the demonic power coating the entrance’s wooden exterior resonate with my own. Causing a crimson, magical crest to illuminate in front of me as the seal attempted to prevent me from entering. Fortunately, since Gasper had no interest in breaking out, the seal was weak enough that even Rias would be able to destroy it with minimal effort.
All it took was a little brute force to make the spell vanish into thin air, and without further ado, I pulled the door open, causing the hinges to let out a pained creak thanks to their lack of maintenance.
“HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
Immediately, I was met with a high-pitched, girlish scream resounding from the coffin positioned in the room’s center.
Sheesh, he’s got some serious pipes for a child that size. I think my ears are ringing a little.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” I apologized, closing the door behind me to keep the lighting down. While Gasper is perfectly capable of surviving in sunlight due to his Dhampir Physiology, apparently, he still prefers to remain in the dark.
Not that we devils are all too different, the sun doesn’t harm us, but sometimes it does make us feel a little sluggish. Since Gasper’s got both bloodlines running through him, he’s probably got it a lot harder than I do.
“W-what’s going on?! W-what happened to the seal?! Where’s Rias?!” He continued, audibly shuffling around in his coffin.
Usually, I’d tell him the truth, but seeing as he’s already gotten this panicky on me, maybe it’s best I keep it to myself.
I cleared my throat. “She’s… asleep at the moment. So are the rest of her subordinates.”
“Oh…” I could still sense a great deal of hesitation in his voice. “U-uhm, who are you exactly? Why did you break the seal?”
As they say, first impressions are essential.
“My name’s Alduin, I’m a devil sent here on behalf of Lady Leviathan, and Lord Lucifer to oversee Rias’ training, alongside that of her subordinates. Yourself included, Gasper.” I crouched down, doing my utmost to sound as welcoming as possible. Unlike with the rest, there’s no need for me to test him with immediate combat. His power is exceptional, even among a peerage with such talent, thus it’ll require a special approach.
“Lady L-Leviathan?! L-Lord Lucifer?!” He repeated, evidently startled.
“Mhm,” I nodded. “There’s a lot to explain, and I think it’d be better if we talked face-to-face. Talking through the lid of a coffin is a little crass, don’t you think?”
“N-no! I don’t wanna go outside! I wanna stay here! The outside is scary!”
The corners of my lips dropped into a frown, not because I was mad at Gasper or anything of the sort, but because I was starting to notice just how poorly his isolation had affected him. There’s a lot I’m willing to forgive when it comes to Rias and her management of her peerage for the sake of making this arrangement work, but… there are some things I’m not so sure I can ignore.
“Yeah, the outside can be scary sometimes.” I let out a slow exhale, realizing that I needed to be a little more convincing. “However, right now your King needs your help. Gasper, Rias is in trouble, and out of everyone in her peerage—you’re the one who’s capable of helping her the most.”
“T-trouble?” The worry in his voice made it clear that he still cared deeply for Rias, despite her evidently neglectful treatment of the timid Dhampir.
Lucky you.
“Yes, her freedom is at stake, and she’s going to have to fight for it soon.” I continued, my tone growing somber. “Naturally, that means you’ll fight alongside her, but as things stand, your chances of winning aren’t looking good. That’s why I’m here, to hopefully tip the odds in your favour.”
Silence followed, but I remained patient, allowing Gasper all the time he needed to let my words sink in.
Slowly, the coffin’s lid started to slide open. A pair of small, pale white hands gripped onto the edge of the vampiric bed, followed by a head full of platinum-blond hair, which anxiously rose from below. A few more seconds of hesitation ensued, but soon enough, my verdant reptilian eyes were fixated on two, bright, pinkish-violet ones.
“Hello, Gasper,” I said with a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“H-horns!” He yelped, staring at me with what I presumed was fierce apprehension.
“Ah, my appearance is a little frightening, isn’t it?” I chuckled lightly, scratching my nape. “Sorry about that, but I don’t think there’s much I can-”
“I-it isn’t scary!” He intervened, causing my eyes to widen. “Actually, I think they look c-cool!”
“Cool?” I tilted my head. I certainly wasn’t expecting that response. Heh, what a pleasant surprise.
“Yes!” He insisted, fervently nodding his head. “Uhm, but didn’t you say you were a devil? Why do you have them?”
“It’s something that runs in my family, you can think of it as a coming-of-age feature we all get.” I’m not about to burden a child by telling him how our bloodline works, the mood between us seems to be improving, and I’d rather not let it turn sour.
His eyes sparkled, gleaming with curiosity.
“Is it alright if t-touch them?” He asked nervously.
“Sure,” I leaned forward. “Just be careful, they’re quite sharp.”
Now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that dragons only let their partners and children touch their horns.
Does that mean I have to adopt Gasper now?
Not that I’d mind.
“Woah, they’re like spears on your head!”
Goodness me, that childlike wonder of his is frighteningly adorable, it’s making me want to adopt him even more.
“I’m glad you find them interesting, but I would like to start discussing the situation you’re all in-” while I was talking, a beeping sound started to emanate from my cloak. Originating from my Foreign Affairs badge. “Could her timing be any worse?” I sighed to myself, obviously, Serafall was ringing me.
Aren’t you supposed to be busy smothering your little sister?
“Sorry, Gasper, it looks like Serafall needs me for something.” I stood up, glancing at the message flashing on the badge’s “screen”, which was just a set of holographic letters woven from demonic power, instructing me to teleport over to her. “Is it alright if we continue this conversation a little later? I promise I’ll be back the second I’ve dealt with this.”
“No, it’s fine. If it’s Lady Leviathan calling, then it must be important.” He replied, seemingly content.
“Thank you,” I gave him a light, affectionate head pat. He’s surprisingly well-mannered for someone who hasn’t had a whole lot of social interaction, colour me impressed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”
===
I appeared before Serafall, taking a moment to glance around before speaking to her, finding myself in what looked to be one of Kuoh Town’s many residential areas, and an exceptionally effusive one, it seems.
The asphalt roads were utterly spotless, with not even a hint of debris or trash to be found. The surrounding intersections and sidewalks were laden with towering palm trees, the maintenance of which was almost up to Sallos standards, but not quite. The housing itself mostly consisted of small to medium-sized mansions, none of which could compare to the Underworld’s noble infrastructure, of course. Still, for a human settlement, this is definitely a place where Japan’s upper class would settle.
“Where are we?” I asked my boss, whose mood appears to have drastically improved despite her not having set a word yet. Maybe the whole reason she's been so grumpy as of late was just because she hadn’t seen her little sister for so long, after all, there are certain “rumors” going around about how she and Lord Lucifer are a little bit too attached to their younger siblings. However, for the sake of my livelihood, I’m not going to comment on that.
“You and Thora’s new home while you’re staying in Kuoh,” she pointed at a plain, white-colored modern villa positioned right beside the sidewalk we were standing on. “Rias and Sona also have households set up in this neighbourhood, though they’re a little bigger to accommodate both them and their peerages.”
“I’m certainly not going to complain.” Sometimes, having too much space can be a disadvantage in itself. It can make the place feel hollow. As long as it provides a cozy dwelling for me and Thora, that’s all that matters to me. “Is that all you called me here for, though?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“Of course not,” the Satan shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to work soon, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit next, so I thought I might as well hand this over to you before I forget.” She reached into her coat and pulled out a vial, which earned my immediate recognition.
Tiamat’s blood!
I felt my heart start to drum once more, but this time, I was somehow able to demonstrate even more self-control than before. How odd, I thought awakening my Buné bloodline would intensify the reaction, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. If anything, it’s become tamer.
It must have something to do with how my Sallos cells naturally suppress draconic deviation, like Halibel mentioned.
I wonder, maybe my Buné side wasn’t the only part of me that got stronger when I successfully awakened?
“Your maid’s waiting for you inside, and unless you have anything you want to tell me, I think I’ll go ahead and take my leave.” Serafall rolled up her sleeve, checking her watch.
“No, I’m all set.”
“Great, I’m trusting you to keep Sona safe from now on, or else—” Her eyes narrowed, sharpening like daggers. “Well, I shouldn’t need to tell you what’ll happen, right?”
I gulped. “Yeah, you can count on me.”
She let out a contented hum, disappearing in a flash of light and leaving me to my own devices.
Phew, it’s a lot of pressure being in a Satan’s presence.
I walked up the flight of stairs leading to the villa’s already open front door and stepped inside, entering a living room that had already been freshly refurbished, with furniture that all looked to be in mint condition.
“Young Lord,” and of course, the woman I trusted most stood in front of me. Knowing her, she’s probably still not satisfied with our house’s already exceptional condition. “I trust your meeting with Lady Rias went well?”
“About as well as it could,” I half-agreed, allowing my gaze to wander around the room idly. “Serafall hooked us up with quite the living space, didn’t she?”
“I suppose it’s passable.”
Yeah, that’s about the reaction I was expecting.
“Young Lord.”
“Yes?”
“Back at Lady Roygun’s estate, you asked me a question I didn’t have a chance to answer.” She folded her hands in front of her apron, shooting me a calm, yet decisive stare. “Do you remember?”
Reflexively, my posture stiffened.
“I do.”
The conversation immediately replayed through my mind.
“The day after my awakening ceremony, mother said something to me, and for some reason, it’s only really starting to bother me now, of all times, right as we’re about to leave for Kuoh.”
“What did she tell you?”
“She said I manipulated you, she said that I twisted your emotions to make you help me as I went against my father’s wishes. Is it true? Did I manipulate you?”
“I’ve had a fair amount of time to mull over that question,” she paused, sitting down on the living room sofa and gesturing for me to sit beside her. “Would you like to hear my answer?”
With a certain tension in my footsteps, I walked over to her.
“I would.”
“Young Lord,” her dark, crimson eyes locked onto me. “In a way, I think you did manipulate me.”
“So it’s true-”
“I’m not finished, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interrupt me until I’ve said all I want to say.” She was quick to admonish me, and in exchange, I gave her an apologetic and understanding nod. “I was definitely emotionally inclined to help you, despite it being a violation of my duties as someone under your father’s employ. However, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
I performed a set of slow, repeated blinks. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Young Lord, truthfully, I’m glad that you ‘manipulated’ me.” For a second, I was almost convinced that I had misheard her entirely. “Ever since I started taking care of you, I’ve always, always despised how the Lord and Lady treated you with such indifference and detachment, despite you being their son. I hated the nonexistent affection they forced you to live with. I hated seeing every single bruise, blemish, and wound you’d come back with after enduring one of their ‘training sessions’, if you can even call them that. I hated it all.”
I desperately wanted to say something right that instant, but as she requested, I decided to hold my tongue a little longer.
“That place was not a true home for you, it wasn’t even remotely similar to the one I observed your half-brother, Ladora, grow up in.” She clenched her fists to the point where they started to tremble. “I’ve been by your side all your life, and not even I truly know what it was like for you to live with them as your parents, because I was never present when they were training you.”
Though I couldn’t exchange any words with her just yet, I could still move, and so I went ahead and cupped my hand over hers, hoping to offer her some reassurance.
“Deep down, I wanted nothing more than to lash out at them. To slap them both across the face, berate them for all that they did to you—” Her lips quivered as a lone teardrop rolled down her cheek. “—but I couldn’t, I was too weak, too cowardly to stand up for you. So I just sat back like the pathetic excuse of a maid I am and allowed you to suffer, pretending that one day everything would be alright.”
I know I agreed to let her finish, but there’s no way she can expect me to remain silent after hearing such words.
“What good would that have done?” I was quick to refute her. “If you had tried to take a stand against those monsters, chances are they’d probably have killed you, especially mother, and if that had happened, then I’d truly be alone in that house. You call yourself pathetic, yet you are here, standing with me against two people you have every reason in the world to be positively terrified of.”
“Yes, here I am, after eighteen years of standing back and twiddling my thumbs.” She breathed a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Young Lord, it was only because you pushed me that I was able to act on a desire I’ve had for all this time, call it manipulation, persuasion, or whatever sick title Lady Martha wishes to use. I couldn’t be happier that it happened, and nothing can change that.”
Thora.
Do you have any idea how hard you’re making it for me not to pounce and kiss you right now? Good grief, and here I thought I’d be doing all the seduction.
“Young Lord, while I’m at it, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for quite some time now.” She responded to my gesture in kind, clasping our hands together. “Do you mind if I tell you a story?”
“My ears are all yours.”
===
Bucharest, Romania, 1867.
“Come on! Come on! Keep it moving! The King’s patience isn’t infinite!” Bellowed a middle-aged gentleman, adorning a dark frock coat, a sleek, freshly ironed tophat, a pair of beige-colored trousers, and a set of high-quality, tailored boots cut from only the finest of leathers that coin could procure.
From afar, he looked like any other well-off man one could spot roaming the streets, but up close, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Each and every one of his facial features was perfect, to an unnatural degree, almost like a carefully sculpted doll. His skin was so pale that one would nearly assume he was a cadaver, and his pupils were blood-red in color, and most strikingly of all, a pair of fangs were visible in his mouth each time he opened it to take a bite of the apple he was holding.
The man was, without a shadow of a doubt, a Vampire.
A feared, supernatural creature of the night that fed on the blood of humanity, sometimes even turning them into their unwilling servants when they sank their fangs into their necks, who’d be forced to live the rest of their miserable existence as the playthings of their pureblooded superiors.
After all, Vampires were, by far, the most discriminatory supernatural race in existence. Even against their own kind, if they were anything but 100% pure-blooded.
Although, there did exist one fate worse than becoming their involuntary kin, and that was being turned into Undead. A rotting, animate humanoid corpse covered in decaying, green flesh. Stripped of all intelligence, and left with no other purpose than to follow their creator’s every whim, and infect humans through biting them.
Such was the fate of a human who had “low compatibility" with vampiric blood when they were bitten by a Vampire. The only end one could hope for in such a situation was that someone killed the Vampire responsible for turning them in the first place, thus granting all the Undead under them the sweet release of death.
“Tch, what a useless bunch,” the gentleman snorted. He watched as the horde of Undead he created pulled at least a dozen carriages with metal cages placed on top of them, dragging them across a gravel road that led up to a dark, sinister castle awaiting their arrival in the distance.
The castle of the 3rd Generation King Tepes himself, ruler of the Tepes Faction, the male-dominated faction of the Vampire world.
At present, the King was expecting a delivery of “premium livestock” straight to his residence. While Vampires were perfectly capable of living off human blood throughout their entire lives, sometimes, they preferred to have a little variety. Especially the Vampires of high standing.
They liked supernatural blood.
Fallen Angels, Youkai, Devils, even Stray Dhampirs born outside of their territory. Usually originating from servant Vampires who managed to successfully escape their masters, and procreate with a different race. Although such a circumstance was extraordinarily rare, it still occurred from time to time.
Of course, their masters were far too prideful to sit back and allow them to escape their grasp. Anyone who tried to flee them would be hunted to the very ends of the earth. Should they be caught, they would once more reside in the territory of their superiors—only this time as mere cattle, rather than servants. The same fate their children would face if they had any.
Those were precisely the kind of people being transported in the cages. Supernatural livestock, doomed to please the fangs of the Tepes Faction’s royal family for all eternity.
“Seriously, why do I have to be the one handling all the grunt work? They should go make one of my idiot cousins do this instead, at least they’d finally be good for something that way.” The gentleman, a member of House Manthar, one of the families under the Tepes Faction, muttered to himself.
“Trouble in paradise, I take it?”
“Tell me about-” The Manthar paused midsentence, coming to an immediate, stunned halt. Entirely out of the blue, his body had broken into a nervous, dread-ridden, cold sweat.
Why?
Because besides his Undead and livestock, no one else was supposed to be here.
His first thought was to yell out, demanding to know the identity of whoever had been audacious enough to creep up on a proud, noble vampire such as himself. But for some reason, he couldn’t. The words were clogged up in his throat, like he had swallowed an entire tube of glue.
W-what’s happening to me? Why can’t I talk?!
He could feel his fingers begin to tremble, and his legs weaken, as if some invisible force had paralyzed him with fear. Unavoidable, deep-rooted, instinctual fear.
I can’t move! I can’t move! I can’t move! What the fuck is wrong with me?!
And then he saw it.
Two, bright-blue eyes, cold as ice itself, gleaming from the dark. Fixated on nothing but him, and him alone.
Weighted footsteps crunched against the surrounding grass, inching closer and closer towards one of the kerosene lamps positioned across the gravel road, providing some illumination for the figure who had been lurking beside him, for who knows how long.
“Yo.”
He was a man, seemingly in his late twenties, easily half a foot taller than the vampire, at the very least. With long, spiky, ash-colored hair tied into a ponytail. His attire consisted of nothing but a traditional, gray wool sweater, trousers, and a pair of sandals. Completely ill-fitted for a confrontation, assuming that was his intention.
However, there were only two parts of his appearance that the vampire was interested in.
His pupils were reptilian in nature, adopting the form of two haunting vertical slits. And atop his head, resting like a crown, were a pair of dark, backwards-facing draconic horns, the tips sharp enough to cut through a vampire’s flesh like the stakes Exorcists used to hunt them down.
The pureblood’s nose twitched, though he could hardly bring himself to move, his senses still worked just fine.
“Y-you’re…” He stuttered, his expression pained as he forced his throat to push the words out of his mouth. “A d-devil?”
“Mhm,” he nodded calmly. “Well, at this point, my blood’s mixed with a whole bunch of other bloodlines I drank, but that’s not important. What’s important is, your kind messed up, big time.” He chuckled lightly. “I mean, seriously, what do you think was going to happen? That you could snatch our kin and even a few Dhampirs under the protection of our territories, and we’d let you get away with it scot-free? Good grief, talk about wishful thinking.”
Of course, the devil wasn’t here by mere coincidence. They weren’t the type to wander into another faction’s territory without reason. At least not nowadays under the current Four Great Satans.
Certainly not when the devil in question was a part of the Underworld’s 72 Noble Pillars, and a Patriarch no less.
Specifically, the current Patriarch of House Buné. Sebastian Buné, who had appeared at the request of one of his former students whom he had mentored during the Civil War. Serafall Leviathan, one of the Underworld’s Four Great Satans.
Sheesh, where does that brat get off making an old man like me work overtime? He sighed inwardly, scratching his stubble. Granted, it is nice to have a chance to get some fresh air every now and then. Maybe I’ll go ahead and sample some Romanian cuisine while I’m at it. I hear their “Mici” is pretty good.
Naturally, Serafall, as Head of Foreign Affairs, was quick to investigate the disappearances that happened at the hands of vampires livestock procurement—and after discovering that the purebloods responsible for them were male, it was immediately apparent the Tepes Faction was responsible. After all, no male-led noble houses existed under the Carmilla Faction’s banner.
After making the discovery, Serafall had contemplated a covert retrieval of their people, but quickly realized it wouldn’t amount to much. Vampires were by far the most aggressive and arrogant of the supernatural races, the concept of negotiating or engaging in diplomatic proceedings with any other race was alien to them. A covert operation wouldn’t stop them from continuing to encroach on their territory.
A message needed to be sent.
Vampires needed to learn their place in the pecking order, which was far, far below any of the three main factions. Devils were not their livestock, they were their superiors. That was a lesson that needed to be delivered directly to King Tepes himself, and probably Queen Carmilla by proxy, just in case she was getting any bright ideas.
They needed to be punished.
As for why Sebastian was administering said punishment in Serafall’s place?
In truth, he had purposefully put himself in a position where she’d ask for his assistance.
Sebastian had always known the type of person his student was, despite her immense strength and accolades during the Civil War, she had no stomach for violence. She was the type to be haunted by every life she took, including the ones she had already taken during the war. She was someone who could never bring herself to wash the bloodstains off her hands, no matter how much it pained her.
She was too soft. Too considerate. To the point where she’d rather wear a mask and bury her true feelings than tell her family how she felt deep down.
Serafall knew what needed to be done, but at the same time, Sebastian understood that’d only worsen her “condition.” He felt obligated to step in and prevent Serafall from enduring more built-up stress than she could handle, as a matter of fact, he regretted letting her fight at all during the Civil War itself—regardless of Zekram’s insistence that she’d be among the next four to lead the Underworld.
But just because he couldn’t step in then, didn’t mean he couldn’t step in now.
He wouldn’t allow his student, even a former one, to suffer any further, not when there was something he could do to prevent it. His wife certainly wouldn’t let him get away with it, and he couldn’t be more thankful for her ever-present advice and wisdom.
As long as she was there, he knew he’d never go astray.
“Anyhow, I’ve got a King to spank. So you can go ahead and perish.” He raised his hand, preparing to snuff the pureblood out in one, swift motion.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
But surprisingly enough, something else hit him before the Buné could make his move.
“Oh?” Sebastian lowered his arm, tilting his head in curiosity.
Just then, he spotted a stream of highly compressed blood, in the shape of an arrow, shot out of one of the metal cages and dug into the pureblood’s abdomen. Though the damage was negligible, and the vampire’s regeneration factor had already begun to kick in, Sebastian’s intrigue didn’t waver in the slightest.
“Blood Manipulation? Can’t say I’ve seen that one before.” He smiled, grabbing the pureblood by the head and ripping it clean off, without even offering him the courtesy of looking him in the eyes as he did so. Clearly having completely lost interest in the vampire already.
Instead, his attention was fixated on a small girl, dressed in torn, tattered rags, and shackled by her wrists and ankles, like all the other livestock. She had dull, crimson eyes that conveyed an alarming lack of expression, her face was lusterless as if all the life had been drained straight out of it.
Yet, there was still a faint spark of ferocity that only someone with Sebastian’s keen senses could detect. Ferocity that had given her the strength to stand up, and strike the person responsible for her current situation.
“Die, for what you did to Mama and Papa.” She muttered under her breath, her voice low, tired, and deeply exhausted. Her eyelids constantly dropped, making it clear that she was on the brink of collapse.
“Let’s see here,” Sebastian hummed, leaning down to get a good look at the girl, smelling both the odor of a vampire and a devil clinging to her. “You’re clearly a Dhampir, but I’ve never heard of a devil with the power to mold blood, so I’m assuming you get that from your vampiric side.”
It was quickly apparent that she wasn’t listening to a word he said, or rather, she didn’t have the energy to.
“Kill me.”
Sebastian raised his eyebrows.
“Why? Don’t you want to live?”
“I couldn’t save Mama and Papa. I failed them. I don’t deserve to live. I’m a bad daughter.” Her tone was utterly lifeless, almost as if her very soul had been ripped out of her. “I’m a bad daughter… useless daughter…”
Sebastian frowned, glancing at the pureblood he had just executed.
I see, her parents must’ve tried to protect her while they were being abducted.
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works, little one.” Sebastian’s voice grew calm as he attempted to sound consoling, a skill his wife was much better at than he was. “It’s a parent’s duty to protect their child, not the other way around.”
“I…” Her knees started to wobble, and right as she was about to collapse, Sebastian split the metal bars apart with ease and caught her by the shoulders. Scooping the girl up into his arms, and using his enhanced hearing to examine her heartbeat and pulse.
Since she’s a Dhampir, this should work.
He opened his mouth and pricked his thumb against his teeth, allowing a bit of blood to trickle out of his skin.
“Drink,” he held the appendage above the girl’s mouth.
“Gasp!” The second a droplet of Sebastian’s draconic blood reached her orifice, she felt like new life had been ushered into her body. The rejuvenating sensation was so potent that she nearly leapt out of Sebastian’s arms, fortunately, the Patriarch’s grip was more than strong enough.
“You said you wanted to die, but I’m having a hard time believing you. Someone who had lost all hope wouldn’t have mustered up the last of their strength like you just did a second ago.” He smiled warmly, meeting the girl’s dazed expression with a calming one of his own. “You seem like a fighter to me, I respect that spirit of yours—little one.”
The girl remained silent, at a loss for words.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“T-Thora…” She stammered.
“Thora? Mm, that’s a beautiful name your parents gave you. Make sure you treasure it, and wear it with pride for the rest of your days.”
She wasn’t sure how to feel about him suggesting that there would be more days to come at all.
“Do you see that castle over there?” Sebastian pointed to King Tepes’ residence, looming in the distance. Earning a stiff nod from Thora in return. “Therein lies the man responsible for your parents’ death.”
Immediately, rage coursed through the young Dhampir’s core. Enough of it to earn the admiration of even a dragon, a creature fueled by that very emotion.
Heh, she’s a fighter alright.
“Tell me, Thora,” the corners of his lips widened to reveal an ominous, toothy grin. “Would you like to see me burn it to the ground?”
Her eyes widened as much as they possibly could, overflowing with hopeful vengeance.
“Mm!” She nodded eagerly.
“Alrighty then!” A pair of jet-black, draconic wings sprouted out of his back as he took to the skies, allowing Thora to claw into his arm to stabilize herself. “Watch and observe the famed might of the great Sebastian Buné!”
That day, the Tepes Castle would be drowned in an ocean of bright-blue flames.
And it’d be marked as the last day of the 3rd Generation King Tepes.
A day that every vampire from that day onwards would never forget.
The day their kind would be trampled on like ants by the claws of the Underworld’s demonic dragon.
This chapter was getting so damn long I'm going to have to carry over some of the content to the next chapter unless I want to make this an unreadable info-dump. The writing experience in a nutshell.
Comments
Ythyryl
I’m so happy it returned, I was over here getting antsy 🥹 I won’t say much about what’s in the chapter in case people read comments before reading, but I’m loving what you’re doing with who we got introduced to and some background on Thora!! Keep up the good work!
