Corrupted blood lord

The room erupted.

The side chamber inside Alta’s temple was no longer a place of prayer. It became a storm of shouting voices, horrified disbelief, and panic.

"It cannot be!"

"The relic must be wrong!"

"A holy relic being wrong? Blasphemy!"

"But does that mean he’s a noble vampire?"

"By the Dawn..."

Teclos remained seated with the Cross of Truth still locked in his hands, the thorns refusing to let go as they pierced through his palms. His face was pale from pain, but despite that, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Their reaction was almost worth it, if it was not for those goddamn thorns.

Regulus, on the other hand, did not shout. He stood still, one hand resting on the hilt of his claymore, his eyes shining with golden light as they remained fixed on the Cross.

The bishops stared at the relic like they had been betrayed. They might have even interacted with the vampire, judging by their expressions.

The paladins looked just as furious as Regulus, while the priests looked like their entire view of the city had crumbled beneath their feet.

Luther Vael’thorr.

The righteous foreign noble. The beloved guest of the court. The man praised by merchants, nobles, and priests alike. A charming, generous, devout supporter of the Church.

A vampire...

And not just any vampire.

Teclos had called him his master, meaning that he was at least a noble. God forbid, but maybe he was even a true blood.

The Cross of Truth had shown them that this vampire was not lying.

One of the bishops took a step back from the table, his face drained of color as he clutched his temples. "This cannot be spread carelessly."

Teclos gave him a strained, smug look. "Oh, of course not. Why warn people about the bastard living among them? That would be terribly inconvenient. Props for having a brain, old man."

A paladin struck him across the face with the back of his gauntlet, not tolerating his disrespect.

Teclos’s head snapped to the side. Blood flew out of his mouth, and the thorns in his palms twisted slightly as his body jerked, sending another wave of pain through him.

He slowly looked back.

"Holy warrior? More like a bastard with no manners," he muttered.

"Enough," Regulus finally snapped out of it.

His command cut through the chamber and silenced everyone.

Then he stepped closer to the table and looked at the bishops. "Remove the relic from him. Then secure the prisoner below. We have urgent news to deliver."

The bishops hesitated, as they wanted to ask more questions from the vampire.

Regulus’s gaze sharpened. "Now."

And they obeyed.

The Cross of Truth released Teclos slowly. The thorns slid out of his palms with a wet, squelching noise, accompanied by burning pain that made him clench his teeth as hard as he could.

Blood dripped from both hands onto the floor once the thorns finally released him.

The priests immediately wrapped the relic again and handled it with care.

Once the relic was secured, two paladins grabbed Teclos by the arms, and he looked at Regulus. "I assume this means you finally believe me?"

Regulus’s expression was as stoic as ever. "Yes, you are finally valuable to us."

"That sounds almost affectionate coming from you."

"Oh, we are going to take care of you just fine."

Teclos sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this..."

They dragged him from the room before he could say anything else.

The moment he was gone, Regulus turned to the others.

The chamber remained tense, but the panic began to settle down, and his authority took over. Everyone straightened and awaited his orders.

When order was restored, Regulus spoke clearly.

"We proceed under the assumption that we are dealing with a true blood. As of now, we are under the highest alert."

Several faces tightened, but no one argued.

"The prisoner remains here in Alta. He is not to be moved without my direct order. He is to remain underground, sealed, cuffed, and guarded at all times. No one speaks with him alone. No one removes his restraints. No one approaches the cell without at least four armed paladins escorting them."

One bishop frowned. "Surely you don’t think he can escape?"

"Of course not," Regulus said. "But I am more worried about those who will come to silence him."

The room went quiet.

Regulus looked toward the covered Cross of Truth. "He is a valuable insider. If even half of what he knows is useful, then he is more valuable than any document we could seize. With enough pressure and torture, we can wring every name, route, hideout, servant, and hidden passage from him before he dies."

A few paladins nodded grimly.

Teclos was not being protected out of mercy. He was being protected as evidence and would be used as a weapon against the true blood.

A walking corpse that, once everything useful was extracted, would be killed.

Regulus continued. "Secondly, ten paladins ride for the capital immediately. You will carry my sealed letters for the High Cathedral and the military office of the Dawn. I will request reinforcements, the unsealing of relics, and anti-vampire specialists."

One of the older paladins frowned. "Ten? Why that many? Won’t we lose enough strength to protect the prisoner that way?"

"Just in case his master has realized what is happening and sent out his thralls, ten should be enough to fend them off and reach the capital. We are dealing with a noble vampire strong enough to live in Lupos under our noses," Regulus said. "Even I may not be able to defeat him alone, so reinforcements from the capital are a must."

It silenced everyone completely. The grim realization that Regulus might not be enough hit them hard.

For him to say that openly meant the danger was worse than most of them imagined.

"Third," Regulus said, "three paladins return to Lupos. NO Church insignia. Enter Lupos separately through different gates and try to reach the archbishop through trusted channels only. The Church of Lupos is to prepare for internal defense, civilian protection, and the cleansing of any confirmed co-conspirators."

One bishop’s mouth tightened. "And Count Aweq?"

"Everything in Lupos will be left to the archbishop until the capital responds," Regulus said. "The rest of us need to prepare for battle."

They all saluted Regulus with the Dawn salute, and he turned toward the door. "I will write the letters right now. Gather the people who will bring them to their destinations in an hour."

The meeting ended quickly after that.

Order and lockdown spread through Alta like wildfire.

Within the hour, the village was locked tighter than before. Ten paladins prepared to ride for the capital. Three others stripped off their armor and dressed like common travelers. Priests reinforced the underground prison again. Inquisitors doubled the patrols around the temple grounds and the village.

Teclos was thrown back into his cell in the name of protection.

The door slammed shut behind him.

He stumbled, caught himself against the wall, and looked at the runes glowing around him. The cuffs still remained on him. Fresh bandages were wrapped around his pierced hands, though they had been tied far too tightly.

He stared at the guards outside the bars and rolled his eyes.

"How nice of you... no wonder every non-human being hates you."

No one answered him again.

Teclos nodded slowly. "I have to say, I preferred the part where people screamed in horror at the truth. It had more charm."

The guards remained silent.

He sighed and sat down against the wall, and above him, the Church prepared for war.

—

Far to the west, in the capital, Meralyn Skallion waited beneath a ceiling painted with golden clouds.

The ducal palace was lavish, all polished marble and gilded edges. Elegant furniture lined the hall, soft and expensive, but the room itself had not been built just for comfort.

It had been built to make visitors feel small.

Meralyn stood in the receiving hall with her hands clasped behind her back, her face calm despite the exhaustion beneath her eyes.

She had spent days moving through old contacts, favors, and half-forgotten obligations just to reach this room. The news of her survival had been kept a secret that way.

The doors opened.

Duke Seravin entered with two guards behind him.

He looked older than she remembered, though still charming. His hair had more silver now, and the lines near his eyes had deepened, but the moment he saw her, all noble composure vanished from his face.

"Meralyn?"

She bowed. "Your Grace."

For one breath, he simply stared.

Then he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.

The guards looked away, acting like they saw nothing.

Meralyn closed her eyes, and the embrace lasted far too long.

For a moment, neither of them was a countess nor a duke. They were simply two people who had once almost chosen a different path.

Then Meralyn placed a hand against his chest and gently pushed back.

"We can’t," she whispered.

Duke Seravin’s expression tightened with old pain written all over it, but he released her at once.

"No," he sighed. "Sadly, you are right."

The silence between them was heavy.

Both of them were married, and both of them had their own duties.

They knew that whatever had once existed between them had been buried years ago, even if it had never quite died.

Seravin collected himself first. "I was told you were dead."

"I should have died, but I had very unlikely help."

His gaze sharpened. "Who?"

Meralyn looked toward the closed doors, then back at him. "Count Aweq Van Denos tried to kill me, but the vampire he sent could defy his master and spared me... though he did take my arm."

The warmth left his face.

She told him everything she could.

She told him what the vampire had told her and what she herself had dug up once she got the leads. She even knew that they were likely dealing with a true blood.

By the time she finished, Duke Seravin’s hands were clenched behind his back. He tried to hold back and have some decorum, but it was too much. He then turned and struck the side of a marble pillar with his fist.

The sound echoed through the hall, and the pillar splintered into tiny pieces.

"He dares to attack my territory," he said, his voice low with fury. "My people. And that filth built a dungeon beneath his own castle for a vampire?"

Meralyn stayed silent.

There was nothing comforting to say, but as Seravin turned back to her, he had a firm resolve in his eyes. "I swear to you, Aweq will not die quietly."

"He should not," Meralyn agreed. "He should die where everyone can see him, with every crime he committed spoken aloud before the bastard is gutted like the pig he is."

The duke’s eyes darkened. "A public execution."

"Yes, and if at all possible, kill the vampire too."

Seravin gave a grim laugh. "If possible. That means he is strong."

"Well, his thrall easily infiltrated my castle and didn’t even leave me an option to defend myself, so the master has to be stronger."

He looked toward the windows, where the capital stretched beyond the palace walls. "Then this cannot be handled by the Church alone. I will rally the nobles under my banner. The threat of a parasite vampire will be enough cause."

Meralyn understood. "They will question your motives."

"I will go to the first prince. That will shut everyone up."

"The first prince?"

Seravin nodded. "He will hear me, but not immediately. His schedule is tightly packed right now, and this must be presented carefully. If I force the matter too quickly, our enemies will smell an opportunity to backstab us. Maybe they would even alert that vampire."

"How long do we have to wait?"

"A week, give or take," he said. "Perhaps less if I burn enough favors."

Meralyn’s jaw tightened. "A week is a long time."

"I know."

The duke stepped closer again, but this time he stopped at a proper distance.

"I will gather the counts I trust," he said. "And with royal authority backing us, we will have enough weight behind us to crush them before they can turn the city into a battlefield."

Meralyn nodded.

For the first time in days, she allowed herself a small breath of relief.

The victory was not certain yet, but the first stones toward it had begun to move.

Duke Seravin looked at her with a mixture of anger, worry, and love.

"You should rest," he said.

"I can’t rest yet. I can help you with political matters and paperwork as well."

"You were nearly killed not long ago."

"I am still useful."

His mouth twitched bitterly. "You always were stubborn..."

Meralyn looked away before the moment could become dangerous again.

The duke nodded once.

"I will make the arrangements. At least do me the favor and sit down for a while."

She nodded and sat on the sofa, and the duke left the hall.

Outside the palace, Count Aweq had no idea that a noose was being formed around his neck as he was leisurely enjoying some wine in his throne room.