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[Villain] Book 2 - Chapter 39: Damien’s Attack Dog
🕑 Added 2025-06-24 13:27:04 +0000 UTCKharis Yaeldrin dropped to his knees, and the golden gun slipped from his limp hand and clattered to the floor. Kharis, alongside the two attendants who had been following his now dead sister, stared in horror at the headless corpses of Akna. Blood pooled around the two elves’ feet. Silence remained for a few seconds until one of the elves began screaming, and the other soon followed. Even Kharis started to freak out for his dead sister.
Still sitting on the couch, Damien used psychokinesis to bring the gun back into his hand. It felt warm in his palm, and the smell of gunpowder wafted below his nose. “Time to remove the witnesses,” he mumbled as he stood up.
Bringing up his gun, two shots rang out, and the screaming ceased. Two elven corpses thumped to the ground. Damien twirled around. “You can’t pretend to sleep.”
“P-please…I saw nothing,” the naked woman under the duvet stammered as she tried to look as small as possible by bringing the white sheets up to her eyes.
Damien faltered briefly, his golden gun pointing between her eyes, wavering in his hand. Senseless murder wasn’t really his style, but time was short. With some reluctance, he pulled the trigger and looked away. Finally, with the final shot fired, he ejected the magazine and slotted in a fresh one.
Clapping once to draw everyone’s attention, Damien stood in the center of the blood-filled room. “Olympia, did you get the recording?”
Olympia beamed as she waved a green stone in her hand. “Yep, it’s perfect. Caught the moment Kharis fired the second shot and murdered his sister.”
Damien nodded. “Perfect. Let’s clean up this mess and proceed, shall we?”
The trio nodded and got to work. Damien used his spatial inventory to store the bodies except for Akna’s, and Vanity used hemokinesis to gather up the blood and absorb it.
Meanwhile, Kharis was staring blankly at the ceiling. His entire life had come crumbling down in minutes, and his brain had short-circuited. “I killed her,” he mumbled to himself as he brought up his shaking hand to his face. His fingers were clean, but to him, they were dyed in his family’s blood. “No.” Kharis forced himself to his feet—he felt nausea well up in his chest, but he forced it down. “You killed her,” he screamed at Damien, who was busy floating his lover’s corpse into a rift in space.
Damien casually turned to him and appraised Kharis with his cold eyes. “And? So what if I killed her?”
Kharis pointed a shaking finger at the well-dressed vampire. His mouth clamped shut as words failed him. He was so filled with rage and confusion that he had no idea what to say.
Damien slowly approached Kharis, his shoes echoing on the room's stone floor with every step. Finally, he halted a step away from Kharis. Damien’s scarlet eyes stared into his. “So. What,” Damien taunted. “You are weak. Powerless and pathetic. Earlier, I said we were similar, but only in personality. We. Are. Not. The. Same. I get shit done, and you rely on others for everything. Now you stand alone. Nobody to call on. What now?” Damien left the words hanging for a moment before pushing past Kharis. The elf stumbled to the side, unsure of what to do.
Confirming that the room was clear of evidence, Damien began his walk toward the door. Vanity joined him, and Olympia hissed at Kharis before following along. Before leaving, Damien paused by the doorway and called over his shoulder. “Kharis, I know you don’t care for your family or sister. I have a recording stone showing you murdering her in cold blood.” Damien played with a green stone between his fingers, and Kharis clenched his teeth.
“I want one thing and one thing only,” Damien continued. “Chaos. Specifically, in the Yaeldrin clan. Tonight. Get it done, and this recording never sees the light of day. I am kind to allies and ruthless to my enemies. Pick your side wisely. I could always use a dog in the Yaeldrin clan.”
“I am not your dog, you bastard!” Kharis shouted as some confidence returned.
Damien said nothing and turned to leave. “Do with your sister’s body as you wish. The deadline is by tomorrow morning at sunrise.” On his way out, he executed the sleeping guard who saw their face and left the Noble Dreams brothel.
***
Despite his final show of confidence, Kharis spent the next hour sitting on the end of his bed and staring at the floor. The smell of blood and metal still lingered in the air, and he listened to the ambient sound of the brothel through the still-open door. He eventually raised his sight to his sister’s cold corpse. “Crazy bastard,” Kharis muttered. “I hope he knows the shitstorm he has caused.”
Letting out a deep sigh, Kharis rose to his feet. Again, his childhood flashed through his mind as he walked over to his sister.
Kharis, why are you so pathetic compared to Akna? She outperforms you in every way. Do you really consider yourself a son of mine? Worthless trash, get out of my sight. Akna will inherit the family. Begone.
“Akna this, Akna that. Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Kharis sneered as he crouched down beside the corpse and retrieved a knife. With some hesitance, he plunged the blade into her chest and reeled back to dodge the spurt of blood. His weak muscles strained as he dragged the knife down her body’s length to her stomach. A sickening stench filled the room, but Kharis didn’t care. He pressed on.
For too long, he had lived this pathetic life. He hated Damien Nightshade with a passion, but he hated himself even more. He could have been training all those nights but instead ran off to play with sluts and shoot whatever drug he could get his hands on. I grew complacent, and now I’m reduced to some whining dog. Kharis thought as he brought the knife up a second time and rammed it down before drawing out a second line down her body. Some guts fell through the cracks, but Kharis didn’t care. Instead, he went for a third slice.
Finally, stepping back, he wiped the sweat off his sleeve and marveled at his handiwork. He felt sick, disgusted with himself, and at everything that was happening. “What a shit night.”
He gritted his teeth as he thought of Damien’s threat. He chucked me a bone, like a dog. With Akna dead, I am now the sole heir of the main family line, but only if I can cover up her death. It’s up to me now. With his guards dead, Kharis needed to figure out a way to escape this situation while also pleasing Damien. The idea of satisfying that psychopath made his skin crawl, but he wanted to live.
Not just live. But thrive. Kharis steeled his resolve and continued his plan. Walking to his bedside, he pushed on the wall and maneuvered it to the side like a sliding door. Stepping into the small room, he saw a mana crystal suspended in a metal contraption pulsing with blue light. This mana crystal not only powered his safe room’s magical defenses but also the basic protection spells covering the entire building.
The crystal had to be replaced once a month and consumed a good proportion of the Noble Dreams profits, but it served many functions other than defense, such as ventilation.
A runic formation on the ceiling used the mana crystal’s ambient power to bring air from the outside, cool it down, and then redistribute it to the many rooms within the brothel.
Kharis grabbed a box and stood upon it. Bringing his finger up to the vent, he concentrated hard. A few seconds later, his sleeping mana circuit sprung to life, and a flame materialized on his fingertip. Unfortunately, his C-grade Fire magic was too weak, so he leaned on the crystal’s power to boost his spell. Soon enough, a roaring red flame sat in his palm. Then with clenched teeth, he let the attack go straight into the vent.
Kharis’ green hair waved from the heatwave as the spell exploded and was quickly funneled by the vent throughout the brothel. A few moments later, once the flame had spread enough, Kharis took the mana crystal out of its cage with an audible pop to disable the defensive formations. With this, the fire should spread quickly.
“Well, time to go,” Kharis said as he left the small room with the mana crystal in hand. Deciding he looked too pristine, he grabbed the bloodied knife he used to gut his sister’s corpse and slashed at his clothing, smearing it with blood and guts. “Mhm, better.”
Screams began.
“That spread fast,” Kharis noted as he grabbed his sister’s leg. This is going to be painful. Nevertheless, he had one chance to fake the murder of the Yaeldrin clan princess, and he planned to pull no punches.
The crackling sound of burning wood and eye-watering smoke accompanied the screams of his clients and employees. A few minutes passed, and the room became hazy with smoke. Finally, deciding it was time, Kharis stabbed himself a few times, and while screaming, he hurled the bloodied blade onto his bed alongside the mana crystal.
In complete agony, he began to drag his sister’s corpse through the burning corridors of brothels. Kharis desperately cycled his meager mana to protect him from the heat as he shuffled his way backward.
A flaming plank of ceiling tumbled down beside him, hitting his back on the way down, causing him to groan in pain. Kharis had no idea how far he had to go until the exit since his eyes watered from the smoke and grueling agony his body was in, meaning he could only fumble through the flames.
One at a time. Step by step. Leaving a trail of blood, Kharis made his way to the exit.
“Help!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “Help.” He gagged as the smoke filled his lungs. Coughing violently, he collapsed to one knee. He could see the smoke funneling to the door only a few meters away. Just when he thought he would die, his two security guards who manned the door charged in with wet rags over their mouths. They grabbed his armpits and hauled him outside.
“M-my, sister…she’s still inside,” Kharis croaked between violent coughs that shook his entire body as he was dumped a few meters from the building. “Save her.”
The two men looked at Kharis and then at the burning building. They both knew there was no way they could survive another trip inside, but their master’s furious face compelled them to try. The mere heat from the doorway singed their eyebrows as the two guards cycled their mana for protection.
“We will save her, young master. Do not worry,” one of them said through the gag as he charged inside. Kharis coldly watched their backs as they risked their lives to save a corpse. Then, right before the second guard could go inside, a boom followed by a wave of fire blew the guard back a few meters.
Kharis grinned as he watched the building collapse on itself after the mana crystal exploded due to the heat.
***
Damien took a deep breath of fresh night air before strolling down the street with a heavy heart. Hopefully, Kharis takes my bluff. I have no way to give this stone to the Yaeldrin clan’s head before the king’s birthday in two days while also going on a killing spree. The timing is too tight. Damien’s plan was relatively simple. He just needed to assassinate a single noble with a seat on the king’s court to throw off the balance of power. Once that was done, a new noble from Princess Emilia’s faction could gain a seat, finally turning the majority against Prince August. I can’t kill August directly, he is like a cockroach, but I can kill him officially. Without his title, he would be unable to unleash his misery upon the capital. Then this will finally be over, and Princess Emilia can be in line for the throne. But all of this depends on chaos to mask the assassination. Otherwise, the noble’s death will be heavily investigated.
Looking up at the night sky, Damien debated whether his actions were right. He had long passed the idea that this was a simple game world—people like Vanity proved that. She had changed and evolved so much past her in-game personality that she was an entirely new person. If he were more powerful or the circumstances were different, there might have been another way that didn’t involve mass murder.
But Damien had seen the horrors of Prince August’s ascension back when this was a game. Kassinki became a graveyard as August converted the citizens into an undead army to wage war on the vampires, and as the death increased, so did his power.
Similar to how vampires gained strength through blood cultivation, August gained strength exponentially as he consumed the life force of the living. But once everyone in Kassinki died, and his hunger for life became unsustainable, his only two solutions were destroying Oshal or trying to obtain immortality from the vampires.
Blackthorn isn’t ready. We could never stave off an invasion of that size. Destruction of everything I built would be the only outcome. Vanity was right; it’s best to deal with the cockroach prince now rather than later. Damien thought as he made his way up a street in the noble district a few minutes from the auction house. Vanity and Olympia followed him in silence as he mulled over his thoughts. Their walk went on for a while until there was a loud boom. Damien turned toward the noise to see smoke rising into the night sky from the pleasure district.
“The crazy bastard really did it.” Damien felt hope return as bells chimed across the city.
Chaos.
Comments
NeoJungleLover
To save the populace we need to kill the populace, sounds good to me
Marin Schmidt
TFtc
