Chapter 150 (Patreon)

Chapter 150

“I agree with Fred.” Athela promptly stated, glowering over at Genua with distaste.  “We’ll need a solid supply of blood for you while traveling and things will be dangerous.  Creating a thrall out of her will allow her to take more of a hit and maybe even be useful, as opposed to this sniveling creature we have on our hands now.”

Genua’s eyes had tears collecting underneath them, and with a fearful look shot Riven’s way - she adamantly shook her head with fingers going white as they tightened against her palms.  “Please…”

Hmmm.

It probably was about time he took a thrall of his own.  The problem was they took a long time to make: with the process of continually feeding on them being weeks, months or even years if their willpower was strong enough to resist the vampiric taint.  Pulling up the old system quest from his screens that’d been sitting there for quite some time now, Riven reviewed the thrall-related quest that’d gone over specifics.

[You have been offered a guiding system quest from the administrator: Acquire Cattle and Create a Thrall – As a newly born vampire, you will need to acquire cattle, or in other terms - people to regularly feed on.  It does not matter if you do this through persuasion or force.  Then after this select one of these cattle to create a thrall.  Thralls are mortals bent to a vampire’s will and are essentially more subservient and powerful ‘cattle’ as many vampires like to say.  Though they do retain their intelligence, personality, and to some extent their own free will - their desires are instinctively and heavily oriented to align with your own.  This places them in the minion category of your status page when acquired successfully.  Thralls also acquire some vampiric strengths, while they are able to retain their own pillars and abilities outside of the vampiric influence.  However: retained pillars and abilities will be corrupted - sometimes modifying them slightly for better or worse.  Lastly, thralls are able to provide greater amounts of nourishing blood than normal mortal cattle do; and their bloodlines may be modified over time to evolve to your liking.  To create a thrall, you must feed on them regularly for an extended period of time and they must in turn feed on your blood numerous times throughout their initial evolutionary cycle.  Reward upon acquiring thrall: 1 combat level, a stable food source, and a new avenue to acquire minions.]

Riven let out an exasperated sigh in Genua’s direction, then turned to Fay while Negrada’s ambassadors waited patiently by the displays.  “If we can’t find anyone else to volunteer, it’ll be Genua that I’ll turn.  But we’ll see if there’s anyone else more willing first.  Your brother vetted people to serve in the guild hall.  Right?  Would he know of anyone?”

Fay hummed in thought, rubbing her chin, then lifted a finger.  “I can go check!  Is there anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want them older or younger, female or male?”

“Doesn’t matter, as long as they’re adult elves and they’re willing or even wanting the change.  Tell them it’ll be a good opportunity for a power up, a better life, and potentially a lot of excitement but also danger.  Just bring the first one you find, and if there happen to be multiple right off the bat bring them all.  I don’t want to waste time while this evil suit I’m wearing threatens to feed on my soul, so hurry.  And thanks.”

***

Despite a long time waiting, which was filled with small talk between Riven and Negrada’s merchants as he didn’t want to go ahead with the transactions while Fay was out, Fay’s return did yield results.

The succubus was followed inside by her incubus brother, Tupper, who glared Zelmont’s direction when their eyes met but neither incubus said anything to the other.  Behind Tupper was a single old man, an elf with silver hair set into a ponytail, who was missing his right eye.  The wrinkled features of the man were set into a determined, yet also hesitant expression as he blinked and supported himself with a cane.

“Master.” Tupper stated, still dressed in a butler’s suit as he bowed at the waist and extended his wings out to either side in a show of respect.  “My sister has informed me that you were looking for a thrall, specifically one to create from a slave who is willing or wanting the change?  Unfortunately that limited our options down to only a single man after checking dozens of the captives we currently own.”

Tupper rose when Riven gestured with a hand to do so, and the incubus stepped back to present the old elf as the man’s arthritic fingers tightened along the cane he balanced himself with.  “He isn’t the greatest of specimens, but he is the only one who volunteered.”

A snicker from Zelmont drew everyone’s attention, and the orange incubus was covering a mouth with one hand while looking the old slave over.  “Rather pathetic, isn’t he?  Are you sure you’d rather not just take the woman you have chained here?  Imagine all the fun you’d be able to have with her.  Or if you’d rather not, at least sell her to me.  I’ve always wanted an elf.”

The old man’s eye fell along with his expression, but he remained silent - and Genua’s face paled further.

“Personal slaves are outlawed here.” Riven said unemotionally as he walked up to the old man to evaluate the hunched figure.  “They’re only owned by the government for crimes committed.  I won’t be selling anyone, especially not to a sex demon.”

Zelmont’s look of disappointment was immediately mirrored by Genua’s look of relief.

“What is your name?” Riven eventually asked after moments of staring down at the old elf who was avoiding Riven’s gaze.  “And what are your affinities?  Or will I have to go get Zelmont here to tell me what they are?  He should have the identification class to do so.”

Zelmont nodded in confirmation of this, and the elf gradually lifted his good right-eye up to blink at Riven’s well-postured form.

“My name is Luke.  Luke Blissfallen.  My affinities are 43% of the Fae Foundational Pillar, 39% for the Forest Sub-Pillar, 48% for the Storm Sub-Pillar, and 28% for the Ocean Sub-Pillar.  I did have the sub-pillars of Volcano, Glacial and Swamp - but unfortunately lost these affinities in a battle where my divinity channels were burned away many decades ago and my soul was damaged.  I also lost access to my bloodline… a true shame.”

Riven’s eyebrows raised.  Most of the slaves from Greenstalk Village ranged in the 15-30% range for their affinities and had only one or two of them.  A lot of Allie’s undead had Unholy and Death affinities ranging from 20-30% as well, while the greenskins had mostly Fae, Swamp and Volcano affinities with similar numbers.  “Those are some very good percentages.  Zelmont, can you confirm?”

Even the incubus was quite surprised, and his look of disgust with the old man abruptly fell off to one of respect when he reached a hand forward to touch the old man’s shoulder.  Lights flashed across his eyes, and Zelmont gave a nod of confirmation.  “He’s correct, though his energy channels aren’t just burned away concerning his lost sub-pillars.  They’re burned out across his entire body, he won’t be able to utilize any abilities at all even despite his percentages.”

The incubus withdrew his hand, looking curiously down at the hunched figure.  “Just what happened to you?”

Luke, the wrinkled old elf, gave a hesitant smile and glanced Riven’s way.  “I used to be a well known battle priest.  I was caught in a life and death situation, back before the integration, and though I came out on top… I was forever unable to heal my body and soul entirely.  I was hoping that… just perhaps, becoming a thrall would fix me.  Perhaps even give me a longer life.  That is why I volunteered.  I am a shadow of the man I used to be due to my disfigurement in both body and soul, even before being enslaved my life was a living hell.  I have no family that were killed in the battle of Greenstalk, as I was merely a traveler passing through when the integration came.  My grandson, Ren, was the only remaining family that I kept in contact with and he wasn’t present at the battle.  No doubt the young lad is off elsewhere in this world still trying to figure out what path he needs to take… but as for me, I am hoping that this one is mine.”

There was a long pause as Riven considered the old man’s words.  “Does anyone here know if it is possible to heal energy channels and soul damage through becoming a thrall?  I’m not even sure if it does.”

“No idea.” Athela replied.

Fay shrugged, as did her brother.  Even Zelmont didn’t give any input, choosing to remain silent.

“I believe it is possible… but it would be hard to do alone.” Fred, the bearded jabob demon stated while scratching his chin and looking over thoughtfully at the hunched elf.  “Turning him into a thrall would certainly help his physical condition correct itself to an extent, it would also prolong his life and modify his pillars and energy channels - be them stamina, divinity, or mana.  However, whether or not it would fully fix these channels and pillars is unlikely without help.  It is possible over time that the vampiric curse you afflict him with will eventually continue to shape his body so that he fully regains whatever it was that he lost - with them being modified through your vampirism of course.  But I wouldn’t bet money on it, and I’m a gambler at heart.  Therefore I propose that, if you choose to make this man your thrall, you should buy some soul-healing dao treasures or pills.”

Fred gave Riven an evil grin.  “We have them in stock too!”

Riven snorted in amusement, then motioned towards Genua.  “Take her back to the mansion.  She is not needed here anymore, and thank you for the help Tupper.”

The incubus smiled widely at the acknowledgement of his success, bowed, and grabbed Genua’s chains from Azmoth before leading the blonde woman out of Negrada’s trade commune.

Riven watched the expressions change across Luke’s face, a conflicted pattern of changing features that settled down into a hopeful grin.  “Do you know what you’re signing up for, old man?”

“To become a thrall is to become a blood-bound slave to a vampiric master.”  Luke stated with an indifferent grunt.  “But if it heals me, why would I say no?  If it gives me another chance at life, one of excitement and adventure, why say no?  You never did me wrong personally, nor the ones that I care about.  The racism of the elves of Greenstalk got the better of them this time.  Logically what you did by not purging them outright, and by treating them relatively well considering they are slaves, speaks to your character.”

“You say ‘they’ like you are not one of them.”

“That’s correct.  I am not.” Luke flatly replied.  “As I said, I was merely passing through their village on a trip when integration struck.  They are what I like to call ‘country bumpkins.’  I always lived in the cities growing up.”

This got a snort from Athela and a grin from Riven.

“I see.  Well then, Luke - I’ll take your word for it.  And what about your eye?”

“What about it?”

“Were you not able to heal at least your body?”

Luke shook his head.  “Couldn’t afford it.  Didn’t have the money, and it’d take a high level healer to replace body parts rather than just mend them.”

Riven’s gaze drifted back to Fred.  “Get me some dao treasures and soul healing pills to look over.  Also, if you have any slave-binding collars to use in the meantime while his thrall transition is still being cultivated - I’ll need some of those as well.  Can’t have him trying to betray me mid-way through becoming a thrall when his energy channels renew.  Luke, you said you were a battle priest?  What kinds of miracles do you have?”

Luke’s look of excitement was palpable, but he settled himself down and let out a huff to reply.  “I... I’m not entirely sure.  I had many, but most of them were partially destroyed when I took soul damage.  Even my remaining percentages were decreased.  The fractals imbued onto my pillars are at the very least in need of repair, and at the very worst - completely unusable.  It’ll take time to realize what I can and cannot access in terms of my old abilities.”

“Got it.  Well, welcome to the group.  I hope you don’t regret it.”

Luke nodded.  “I doubt there’s anything to regret.  Thank you for helping me, because that's exactly what you're doing.”

***

The unholy slave collar etched with green runes clicked into place, binding Luke to the owner of a bracelet now strapped along Riven’s right wrist.

“This should keep him in check to obey anything you command of him as long as his willpower is below 80, which it is.” Fred said while stepping back to evaluate the item.  “That’ll be 40,000 coins.”

“Roadside robbery.  I’ll give you 20,000.” Riven replied without missing a beat.

“30,000.”

“25,000, and even that’s a ripoff you greedy fuck.”

“Fine.”

Riven mentally selected the amount of coins he wanted to transfer out of his bag of holding, and stack set of coins flashed into existence moments later.  Fred quickly deposited the coins into a sack of his own, grinned victoriously, and shot a command to one of the succubi standing nearby to exchange the female-oriented equipment set out for Genua for some stuff that’d better fit Luke.

“On to bigger and better things, the girls will get Luke his equipment, dao treasures and soul healing pills while we go over the hand-crafted pieces made for your own demonic minions.”  Fred’s eyes gleamed enthusiastically, and he bade Riven’s group follow down the row.  Stopping at the end where a rather large mannequin was positioned to match Azmoth’s size, Fred’s red hand pointed up at the pieces adorning its figure.  “This one is obviously for the brute you have with you!”

Azmoth snarled.  “I smash you, little red ape.”

Fred ignored the hellscape brutalisk and turned to face Riven head on with all three eyes sparkling wide.  “There are many features that we’ve included!  Hellscape Brutalisks are often very hard to find, and they’re already heavily armored so it makes their equipment hard to come by.  Even moreso for the one you have, who’s acquired traits to make his bulk and armor even more noticeable than the average brutalisk his age.  However, that does not mean that we didn’t get some things - so go ahead and take a look!  The prices are matched up with the pieces, all identification information is also on display courtesy of Zelmont here.”

The mannequin had only 3 distinct pieces on it.

The first and most noticeable was a very large round shield, big enough for even Azmoth to hide behind it with over half of his body.  It was made of a darker shade of gray steel, was many inches thick, and looked like it could have been the door to some kind of massive machine - only to be ripped off and used as a barrier instead.  Bolts and screws had been drilled into the external perimeter, and the sigil of a black hand had been painted onto the front.

Painted?

Maybe not.  Riven saw the fingers of the hand twitch, causing the iron to creak and groan when the gray metal bent slightly only to reform to the way it’d been moments before.

[Immortal’s Grasp (Tier 1 Awakened Shield)(Heavy Armor): 640 average defense, 83 average damage on strike.  +209 Sturdiness, +42 Strength.

• Grasping Fingers: This shield can launch a hand out of the shield to grasp enemies, pulling them towards the shield or you towards an enemy.]

That one was definitely interesting, but if he’d been complaining about the price at the altar previously he was certainly doing so now.  The price for the shield was listed 140,000 Elysium Coins, so mentally checking it as an item of interest Riven moved on to the next.

Which was essentially a very large, black loincloth.

The loincloth was created from numerous metal links that were each individually very small.  It only came down the front end, being strapped around the waist by another kind of metallic fabric that gave the lower abdomen some additional protection, and it had three very prominent red runes laid into the front end that looked like Japanese sigils or something similar.

[Cansun Loin Cloth (Medium Armor): 78 average defense, decreases the amount of energy spent from any fire-type abilities regardless of pillar by 8%.]

The price was significantly lower than the shield, at a cost of only 9,000.  Not that bad, but Riven couldn’t help to think that this piece wouldn’t survive many battles if it was Azmoth wearing it.  He was always on the front line, and Riven was doubtful it could take many hits before being torn up.

Then the very last item as a large amulet.  It had a very large orange and black gemstone set into the front that was held in place by rings of metal, but instead of being hung around the neck - it had four straps of metal that went under and over the arms to hook around the back.

[Flaming Beholder’s Tear (Amulet): This medallion uses the core of an evolved fire-attuned beholder demon to fire off high powered beams of infernal energy at enemies inbetween charges.]

The price was set to 600,000, and Riven whistled at the amount before shaking his head.  “Hmm.  Got any ability scrolls or tomes for him?”

“We selected two scrolls that Azmoth may be interested in, and one tome.  Go ahead and look.”  Zelmont held out a set of two rolled up scrolls that each had literally flaming insignias written onto their seals, with an orange book to follow that was a couple dozen pages long.  “We only provide the best for our most treasured customers, but remember that the best comes with a cost!”