Chapter 67: 67. Trivial Matters

Damien's bloodshot eyes snapped open, his fangs elongated, and his mind was a clouded mess. The more memories he absorbed and observed, the more blood he consumed, and the higher his blood magic rose.

 

The more extreme the cravings became.

 

Damien held back a feral snarl as he glanced at Fay, he tried to go back to his odd state of sleep, but his desire for that sweet sweet nectar consumed the back of his mind, always there, whispering its temptations.

 

Damien wanted to feed, hunt, slaughter, and kill. Then, become one with the night and have an endless feast on Blackthorns residents. Damien often envisioned such a beautiful sight in his mind. His hands felt twitchy with anticipation, or perhaps he was going into relapse.

 

But then his human rationale would take over, and he would depict himself alone in the rain, on his knees in the mud with Fay's corpse in his arms, surrounded by rivers of blood.

 

What a waste.

 

While the vampire within wished for destruction and slaughter, his humane side desired safety, comfort, wealth and relationships. He wanted to survive.

 

Damien's hands emerged from the duvet and covered his face with a groan, he knew what had to be done, but it was a mere bandaid solution that sped up his road to ruin.

 

With some effort, Damien leaned over towards Fay's neck. 

 

Her eyelids slowly opened, showing her ocean blue eyes. They inspected Damien's fangs with some amusement. Then, with a chuckle, Fay's slender arm snaked out from the duvet and flicked her raven black hair behind her ear, exposing her neck. She then fell back asleep with a smirk.

 

Damien hesitated. He knew drinking the blood would further the cravings, bringing him closer to the inevitable ending his Father faced. Damien hoped that raising his other magic schools to A grade would somehow reduce his impending insanity.

 

Without being in control, Damien's jaw unhinged like a starved serpent and clamped down on Fay's neck with startling speed. As Fay's mana dense blood flowed like a broken dam, Damien was in a state of ecstasy. Her blood was getting better every day and greatly satisfied Damien's cravings, for now.

 

Feeling fulfilled, Damien leaned back and observed Fay. 

 

The morning sunlight sneaked through the ongoing and relentless storm, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. Fay was still happily sleeping, her rosy cheeks showing no evidence of Damien's excessive feeding. The two small holes had closed, not wasting a single drop of nectar on the white sheets.

 

"She's transforming faster than I thought..." Damien muttered to himself as he expanded his Perception Field. The overload of sensory information buzzed his brain and sent him into vertigo as he fell back into bed.

 

The outline world expanded rapidly in all directions, giving Damien some insight into the wider world. Despite it being around ten in the morning, work was already underway. 

 

Outlined people hauled timber to repair the various walkways and begin constructing Blackthorns roads and sewage systems. All these projects would take months, but they had to start somewhere.

 

Damien could hear through the drafty walls of the inn the various sounds of construction work. The banging of wood, shouting of people, and laughter would disturb his peaceful sleep. 

 

Damien realised how dangerous staying inside the town had become, not for himself but the residents. One noisy drunkard stumbling past his window at night before he fed would dispel disaster—a swift and silent murder at best and genocide at worst.

 

In this barren wasteland, Damien was King but was a minor player with meagre powers and backing in the grand schemes of things. 'It's important to remember my place and put things into perspective. Can't allow my pride to overcome my reason like my Father...' Damien mused while he rolled out of bed.

 

Fay was still sleeping, so Damien skillfully dressed in his signature red wine suit, silver cape and black cane. 'Maybe I should hire some servants? Fay is quickly outgrowing her station as a mere maid in my service; she deserves a promotion to walking blood supplier.'

 

Damien chuckled at his joke as he looked through the wooden shutters at the swampy streets filled with labours braving the storm for a day's pay, 'Honestly, all of this is new to me, managing a relationship and the people of this town. Sure I have watched the occasional documentary, and any person from Earth can use their knowledge of modern civilisation for inspiration but putting that into practice is something else.'

 

Damiens gaze wandered towards the direction of his castle; although obscured from view by the cliff edge lined with trees, he knew it was there braving the storm without inhabitants to keep it company, 'Wasn't this supposed to be a barren wasteland? So what's with this monstrous rainfall? It's been days, yet it shows no sign of ceasing. When this storm finally subsides, I shall hire all the carpenters and builders in this town to refurbish and expand my new castle.'

 

Damien rubbed his chin with one hand while his other leaned on his cane, 'Every vampire needs a magnificent castle; I believe the days of the vampires hiding away in caves could be over soon enough, and the era of vampire castles will be upon us. But, as with any housing market, the key is to get in before anyone else.... become the trendsetter, not a sheep.'

 

Damien finally stretched his body before bidding the sleeping Fay and poorly maintained bedroom a pleasant farewell. Walter waited outside to provide Damien with a sheltered journey to the Mayor's office.

 

The residents had learned their lesson and avoided the car like the plague. Nevertheless, the occasional fool suffered the wrath of the car's wheels spewing icy water at anyone who dared to venture too close.

 

Damien observed with amusement as people stopped working to either wave or point at his car, 'It appears my efforts have earned me some reputation, whether good or bad is yet to be revealed.'

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The car rounded a corner, bringing the Mayor's building into view. Damien groaned as he sunk further into his seat; the thought of having to work made him want to return to bed. 'Once everything here is running smoothly without my input, I shall leave the Mayor and other government employees to work from this building while I retreat to my castle on the hill or perhaps venture to the central continent in search of power and fame.' Damien silently promised himself that this work was only temporary.

 

The car pulled up, and Damien stepped out onto the crude stone steps leading up to his workplace for the day. Damien ascended the steps with large strides; his various passive skills and traits worked overtime to maintain his impeccable attire. Rain bounced off an invisible barrier, and the hurricane-like winds swirled around him, yet not a single crinkle appeared on his suit.

 

Damien proceeded as if taking a stroll through a meadow in mid-summer.

 

Reaching the top, Damien gave the Mayor's residence a brief glance. It stood three stories tall, constructed from a greyish stone that shrugged off the relentless storm. The entrance was two heavy wooden doors, slightly ajar to allow people inside while blocking out the rain.

 

Damien strolled through the hefty doors with a flick of his wrist; although not necessary, the action helped him direct the focus of his Psychokinesis.

 

The lobby area was rather simple, with various benches and chairs placed around with an evident lack of planning. In addition, the room was dim due to the clouds blocking the morning sun and tightly closed shutters. 

 

Damien mentally groaned as all the eyes in the room turned to him; Leon walked towards him with a smug smile, "It appears some issues have arisen, Duke." 

 

"So they have... tell them to come up-" Damien's nose scrunched up in disgust from the stench of damp clothes, "-Nevermind, I will use the side room as a temporary office."

 

Leon shrugged, "As you wish." 

 

Damien ignored the sickly looking Mayor and entered a side room; it reminded him of an interrogation room for sheriffs to question cowboys back in the eighteen sixties. Simple wooden decor with a single old table and two chairs.

 

Damien gracefully perched himself in the far chair while muttering, "This will be a long morning."

 

***

 

Hours passed, and Damien found himself in the luxurious office on the third floor. The majority of the complaints had been trivial matters that Damien handed over to his new growing pool of hopefully competent subordinates working in the various new departments he had set up. 

 

Although his current government style reeked of communism, Damien was far too lazy to consider himself a dictator, nor did he have the energy or time to lead a political party.

 

Damien leaned back into the comfortable leather chair, 'I have to admit I was starstruck by Tarlington Fortress. The scenery was picturesque, and the castle was magnificent. But as a person from the city, I am used to modern conveniences. So how can I upgrade my fortress into a palace if I have to travel for a whole day and night to buy supplies or hire personnel? Not to mention the disgust I feel knowing I live so close to livestock, wading around in their mud huts and filth. So this is why I strive to upgrade Blackthorn as soon as possible. Not to mention the extra security and potentially massive financial gains in the near future.'

 

Damien became distracted by Fay's chewing; she sat on a couch, helping herself to a plate of some unknown meat that closely resembled chicken and some oversized purple broccoli.

 

Noticing my gaze, she swallowed her mouthful and asked, "Master, when can we move into our castle?"

 

Damien rubbed his temples in annoyance, "Development unfortunately takes time and nurturing. But, once it's up and running and people hear of the greatness of Blackthorn, the expansion of the labour pool will be inevitable. We have to be patient; the palace can come later."

 

Fay groaned, "If I have to listen to one more complaint..." 

 

Damien shook his head, "I managed to get Leon to hire a few people; they can deal with the trivial matters."

 

Fay smiled as she pushed her fork into the meat, "That's good. I was getting sick and tired of being interrupted-"

 

A knock on the office's metal door cut Fay off, causing her to curse under her breath.

 

After the third knock, Leon's tired voice echoed through the door, "Duke Nightshade, I have a woman here called Mary who claims she has a job that requires meeting you."

 

Damien's previously irritated mood vanished like a spring wind as he straightened his back in anticipation.

 

"Send her in."