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[Villian] Chapter 50: The Forgotten Treasure of Blackthorn Town
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 04:46:25 +0000 UTCDamien stood tall, black wooden cane in hand and a majestic silver robe hanging casually from his broad shoulders. With dangerous eyes, he observed the world beyond the window glass. Blackthorn was a town with interesting but primitive architecture, shadowed by a hill and mountains in the distance. Yet, from this vantage point, Damien could also oversee the never-changing barren landscape that encircled the little oasis of Blackthorn.
The streets were deserted and devoid of any activity that should be present during the late afternoon. Damien could practically smell their fear. It was both delightful and saddening.
“Ugh, you monster, bastard, creature!” Leon O’Neill, Mayor of Blackthorn and slave trader on the side, screamed bloody murder. “Just KILL ME AHHHH.” He shrieked as Damien casually played with a thread within his sea of consciousness, causing spiked golden chains to tense around Leon’s soul, like vipers choking out prey.
“Mayor Leon, we are quite similar, are we not?” Damien said in a cold tone. “We both deprive others for our own personal gain with little regard for authorities or repercussions. So don’t get angry when you are on the receiving end for once. You are a twisted and broken man, Leon. But that sick mind of yours is the only reason you live.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, you creature?!” Leon shouted a little too loud, so Damien plucked his soul tether like one would play the banjo, earning a groan of pain as Leon clutched his head. Misery from the soul was genuinely frightening and broke even the strongest men.
“S-stop, just make it stop, no more, please,” Leon begged with sincerity in his voice but hatred flaring in his eyes. Damien grinned. This man was just like him: a predator, one who liked to control and stand above others.
“Leon, you don’t need to make this so difficult for yourself. My demands are rather simple. Do you see that hill in the distance?” Damien said while tapping his cane to draw Leon’s attention.
“Yes? What’s so special about Tarlington Hill?”
“It’s my retirement home. Well, the fortress within its lake is, at least. Once I have escaped the death that looms over my head, I shall live out my days in peace over there.”
I need to survive five more years, Damien thought while watching the warm orange glow of the late afternoon sun. After that, I need a place to call home, and what better location than within my territory? Although Prince August will likely try to seize this land back from me once he becomes king, I will assist the princess in a coup d’état so long as she promises to surrender this land to my rule.
“But how does that involve me?” Leon asked with confusion plastered on his ugly mug.
“I had a rather noble upbringing, and therefore I expect a very high standard of living. I swear to God if I have to wake up every day and look at this shabby excuse of a town that looks more like some unnamed slum of an impoverished land, I shall die of shame to call this land mine.”
Leon cursed under his breath, “That would be ideal— AHHH!”
“How could you wish death upon your local lord? Especially one as benevolent as me? Look, Mayor Leon, I am offering you a job opportunity here. I am no pirate or bandit. I have values and will stand beside them. Trust me.”
Fay almost couldn’t hold back a laugh at his obvious facade, but she managed to hold back and showed a cold and aloof face as Leon glared at her, judging her reaction to my words.
Leon scoffed. “As if I would trust a single word that comes out of a vampire’s mouth. What kind of deal with you could be so simple?”
Damien frowned as if he was deeply hurt by his words. “It’s a simple partnership, a win-win scenario for the both of us. I want a well-developed territory that doesn’t disgust me from the mere sight of its poverty, and you want money and power, correct?”
Leon hesitantly nodded. “That I do, but this land is useless for farming, something the majority of the villagers specialize in. You do know we require money to escape poverty, right?”
Damien began pacing up and down the room next to the window, cane clattering on the wooden floor in a constant rhythm as he walked.
“It is but a simple solution,” Damien declared confidently. “We are surrounded by barren lands and have a village of farmers, and you say the land is useless? All I hear is good news.”
“Yes? I am not following at all…” Leon said with puzzlement in his voice.
Damien shook his head in regret. “Maybe you aren’t as sharp-minded as I thought… But, alas, you are the bastard son of a baron for a reason, I suppose.”
Leon gnashed his teeth in rage. He couldn’t escape nor fight back. Yet he vowed to take everything from this bastard the first opportunity he got. He wasn’t sure how to accomplish such a feat, but he would darn well try.
“Listen, farming is quite frankly a waste of time, far too much work for pathetically little pay. Cultivating narcotic plants is a far superior method. You still have your connection to the slave traders, right? I am sure they would purchase illegal narcotics from us.”
Leon’s mouth hung open like a fish out of water. Then, taking a moment to recover, he finally responded, “Y-you—a vampire of all people—want to start a drug cartel?”
Damien chuckled. “It’s rather suitable, don’t you think? Usually, growing narcotic plants would lead to trouble, but this land is so barren and worthless, who would be willing to invest the resources to investigate or conquer it? Actually, now that I think about it, there was a rat that discovered us earlier.” Damien frowned at the thought. “What a fool, he greatly underestimated a vampire’s superior senses. Did he believe that whispering while actively drawing attention to himself by combating my mana was a good idea?” Damien narrated the events to himself while pacing the room.
Fay was curious, so she casually asked, “Master, what did the rat say before you executed him?”
Damien stopped his pacing and answered with a confused expression as if the message made no sense. “He said ‘Duke Henson, I found—’ but I cannot fathom how I could have caught the attention of an Oshal duke.”
Fay froze in shock. Damien noticed her reaction and motioned her to spill the beans with his gloved hand.
“Duke Henson caused the downfall of my family. I refused to marry his vile son, and my family paid the repercussions in my stead.”
Damien pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an audible sigh. “It’s just one thing after another this week, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, Master, I have implicated your plans,” Fay said as her soft blue eyes looked at the floor in shame.
Damien waved his hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine, just another hurdle to overcome. Unfortunately, this means time is of the essence. We must begin production immediately and raise our personal strength.”
Leon, who had remained silent during this exchange, had a dangerous glint of scheming in his eye that Damien didn’t miss but ignored.
Tsk, the weakness of the soulbond is that I only have control over his life and death and can inflict pain from afar. Although death is usually an excellent deterrent to prevent disloyalty and betrayal, this man has the dangerous eyes of someone with nothing to lose. Once I have used this man to gain some favorability with the people of Blackthorn and established a connection with the dealers, then I shall dispose of him. I wish I could use a blood contract to have complete control over his mind and instill loyalty into his very being. But, alas, the very thought of offering my noble blood to this mundane human livestock without any magical powers to steal irks me to no end. Not to mention doing such an intimate act with this ugly fellow would haunt me for the rest of my eternal life. I may be a vampire, but I have standards regarding who I bite, you know?
“Duke Nightshade, I still do not know how we are supposed to grow these narcotic plants?” Leon asked.
Damien began pacing around the room again as he spoke aloud. “Ever wondered why this village has such an ominous name? The word Blackthorn doesn’t exactly welcome one in, does it?”
Leon and Fay shook their heads, so Damien continued.
“The ancestors of Blackthorn Village were originally dungeon divers rather than humble farmers. They flocked here to delve into the dark depths of the caverns below.”
Damien used his cane to point to the floor. “Below us is a C-grade dungeon, nothing too dangerous and easily cleared.”
Leon was once again astonished. “We are above a dungeon right now?”
“Indeed.” Damien nodded. “Dungeons, as I am sure you are already aware, are caverns underground infested with monsters. Dungeon diving used to be a rather lucrative business…”
As Throne and Awakening was a single-player game, the developers made it, so dungeons didn’t respawn completely after being cleared. Of course, monsters would eventually repopulate the dungeon, but it was often better to move from one dungeon to another instead of waiting for one to repopulate itself. Damien recalled before continuing.
“However, after a dungeon’s monsters are killed, it takes a long time for them to recover. As more and more people entered the dungeon-diving profession, these dungeons became swarmed with divers and didn’t last long under their vicious culling.”
Fay then asked, “So the dungeon below us is empty?”
Damien shook his head. “No, quite the opposite. The dungeon has been forgotten over the many years, so it should be filled to the brim with creatures by now.”
Fay tilted her head. “So why is it abandoned?”
Damien grinned. “It’s crammed with giant black spiders, and poisonous thorns cover the cave walls. Hence the name Blackthorn Dungeon. Unfortunately, the spider meat is inedible, and the body provides no body parts worth the effort of extracting.”
Both Fay and Leon shuddered from the thought that they stood above a cave filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of spiders.
“I suspect the dungeon was sealed up and abandoned after the villagers could no longer be bothered to clear such a dangerous place for such useless returns. The thorns are highly poisonous, but if the sap is consumed in small doses, it provides a fantastic high that provides vivid hallucinations of loved ones and is very addictive. As a result, the black thorns’ sap will become our town’s most popular export. Off the books, of course.”
Damien turned toward his two dispirited companions. “There is a basement for this building, right? Mayor Leon?”
Leon nervously nodded as if he didn’t like the direction of the conversation.
“Well, let us go investigate the dungeons depths below for forgotten treasure, shall we?”
