Symbiotic Ascension : A Progression Fantasy Adventure

Sir Rakis finally let go of Milena's hair, letting her drop to the damp floor. There were no more classic magic lights to illuminate their way deeper into the subterranean tunnels. Instead, those were replaced by torches burning with blood-colored flames. Lily's face changed from haughty and prideful to wary and careful the deeper they made their way into the tunnels. There was an overwhelming smell of blood mixed with mud and old dust.

More than once did Milena cough her lungs out, and every time she received a mental attack from the kind Sir Rakis. Her patience was truly running thin, and she was wondering whether she should ask Sahro to lop the mind Archmagi's head off. If her guesses were correct, the Black Heir was probably pondering on the same subject.

'Keep it in, Milena, keep it in,' she repeated to herself as she desperately held in another cough. Vampires had an elegant, if not a little morbid, reputation. She would have thought they'd be a little more caring about cleanliness. She chased these useless thoughts away and instead readied herself to act as soon as the time was right. The young lady only needed one solid proof of her mother's treachery, and then she'd be able to free herself from these damned chains called Sorena.

"We're here," Lily said in a hushed tone. She turned toward Rakis and coldly pointed at her daughter with her chin. "Gag her. I don't want to hear none of her absurd remarks."

Lily of Sorena approached Milena and gripped her jaw meanly. "You will serve the Sorenas, as your fate dictates," she clenched her teeth. "This is what I conceived you for. Do not make my sacrifice worthless!"

Milena laughed in disbelief at her words. "Sacrifice?"

"I brought you to this world," hissed Lily as she slapped her. "You are a product I created, mine to use however I like! Now, Rakis."

The young woman kept laughing dejectedly, even as the mind Archmagi sealed her lips with a spell, forcing her brain to comply with his orders. She could break away if needed, but not now. 'Hold it in, Milena.'

Sahro kept his eyes away from the hateful show, his eyes still, and his arms crossed without a care. His fox was hidden, probably waiting for the right moment to jump out of his soul. The tunnel led them into a strange room built out of dark bricks and gray mortar, more crimson red flames burning on the walls. A large altar of black stone stood at the center, a dark brown layer of filth covering it.

Lily suddenly bowed, lifting the folds of her dress graciously. Sir Rakis and Sahro imitated her as if of one mind. Milena simply lay on the floor, glaring in incomprehension. What were they bowing at? There was nothing—

Whoosh!

The light itself seemed to shatter as two men and women appeared out of nowhere. No, they were here before; Milena simply couldn't see them. She could understand Sahro and the Archmagi piercing whatever veil was in place, but what about her mother? She was mediocre in all mystical studies, effectively making her one of the worst Sorenas in history, useless and weak.

The strangers smiled, their lips bright red against their chalky skin. The men wore black and red suits, while the women sported dresses of the same color. Their smiles revealed their incisors, three times longer than those of a normal human. Milena compared them to Javier, the Pale Son, who abandoned them for whatever reason back in the Ink Dunes. She lightly shook her head. Javier's skin was practically translucent, while those were simply unnaturally white. There was a certain difference.

'Vampires. Damn it, I was right.' The news brought to smile to her face. She'd never been involved with this mysterious race, but what she had heard from her friends and grandfather had been enough. Silver bothered them as much as a normal blade, and their only weakness was the bright light of the sun. The oldest vampires could live under the burning star at great cost of their energy. Immortal beings who grew mightier the longer they lived. The more ancient they were, the more youthful their appearance, defying time and the heavens themselves.

A body ten times as strong as a human, regeneration powers equal to the worst Rift monsters, and to complete it, disgusting magic that used blood as its basis. They could be classified using the standard Circle system, even if it wasn't truly how it worked. One of Exan's suppositions was that the higher ranked the vampires' titles were, the stronger they became. It was a strange power, which even the Omniscient himself didn't comprehend entirely.

'Maybe I'll get a few questions answered for him tonight,' thought Milena before scoffing internally. 'If I don't get the blood sucked out of me before, of course.'

"Mortal Lily of Sorena, your actions please us," said a handsome male vampire with long black hair that reached his waist and blood-red eyes. A feature that all four of them shared, strangely. Milena didn't remember it being a common denominator for the bloodsuckers, curiously. Perhaps they all shared the same parents—no, Progenitor. That's the title given to those who created other vampires out of their own strength.

"I am honored, Count Adrastos." Lily bowed even lower, a broad, hungry smile stretching upon her face. "As per our agreement, here is everything you required."

She reached for a pocket hidden in her dress and pulled out a lacquered, pearly box. Milena frowned at the sight, her brows creasing even further when she noticed Sahro flinching at the sight.

"One syringe of a Corrupted Saint's blood and another of a Corrupted Archmagi." She waved at Milena without care. "As well as my daughter."

"Good, good. We've heard about the commotion your operation caused and, for want of words, are pleasantly surprised by your determination, mortal. It's admirable to be so dedicated to your purpose," a vampire woman said with a faint smile as she approached Lily and sensually caressed her cheek. She had streaks of crimson in the black hair flowing freely over her shoulder.

"C- Countess Dilana...!" Lily gasped, her cheek chasing after the fleeting hand. Countess Dilana walked away, amused. Each of her movements was filled with sensuality, drawing the eyes and garnering the hearts of men and women alike. Milena realized only belatedly that she had been staring at the vampire like a starved beast, mentally undressing her and imagining all sorts of wild things with her.

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She smashed her forehead on the ground, gasping in horror. 'What the hell was that? I couldn't think about anything else! Mind—no, charm magic? Does that even exist? And I'm susceptible to it? By Onnea...!'

Milena glanced at Sahro. The Black Heir was staring at the horrifyingly beautiful vampire with wide, bloodshot eyes. His hands were tightly clenched, even the prosthesis. Steam hissed out of the bronze valves through the brass gears as if to show how excited he was.

"This one wasn't part of the deal," remarked Count Adrastos as he approached Sahro with a deft step. "A mechanical prosthesis, tanned skin and a white mark on his forehead. This wouldn't be...?"

Lily raised her head with a proud smile. "Y- Yes, Count Adrastos. This is Sahro Sand, the Black Swordsman of the Devil's Hand's team. I used the bewitching perfume on him, and as expected, it worked marvelously!"

"Excellent." Adrastos nodded absently as he paced around Sahro. "Excellent... Strange, still. I can't sense his power at all, only some sort of wild, primal feeling... What could it be? Dilana, if you may?"

"Of course, dear." Countess Dilana smiled sensually as she snaked up to the Black Heir, pressing her palm against his chest. She stared into his vibrant green eyes, her grin only growing wider. "Oh, Adrastos, this one is making me hungry."

Adrastos scratched his chin pensively before nodding. "You might as well enjoy the treat, my dear. I will bring our guest to the ritual while the thralls take care of the sacrifice. If you could please take care of it somewhere else?" He looked at the altar room with disgust. "This place hasn't been cleaned properly in centuries. I understand the weight of tradition, but please, this isn't suitable for our noble presences."

Dilana sighed and nodded. "I cannot agree less, my dear. I will join you for the ritual once I've finished giving this one a taste." She licked her lips, her eyes crescent with excitement. She grabbed Sahro's hand and pulled him away into another room with a giggle, the Black Heir following mindlessly.

Milena watched them depart in awe, her heart beginning to race. 'Wait, isn't he going to do something? Do we keep the undercover act going? Or...' She felt the dread seize her mind. '...Was he not acting? Was he actually controlled by the 'bewitching' perfume? No, no, this can't be. He's a Saint, he can't be that easily controlled... can he?'

Unfortunately, she didn't get to receive an answer as the two other vampires, male and female, both bold and silent like puppets, dragged her to another room deeper in the tunnels while Count Adrastos explained something with a calm expression to her excited mother. Sir Rakis followed her and the thralls with his arms crossed and a complicated expression.

The male thrall suddenly grabbed her clothes and ripped them outward, revealing her for the world to see.

"Wh- You fuck!" Milena furiously stabbed a Mana-covered hand in the thrall's eyes, surprised she didn't dodge or block. Before she could use her magic to take control of him, Rakis' mind magic slammed into her head and sent her crawling on the ground like a worm.

"Stop resisting and let them do as they intend," ordered Rakis with a pervert smile. "At least I will enjoy something out of this mess..."

Milena mindlessly let herself be undressed and humiliated, her body's actions entirely under the Archmagi's control. Tears welled up in her eyes as the hatred and disgust became too much for her to bear. She almost drew on the strange strength her grandfather's robot spine gave her when the female thrall suddenly pulled out of nowhere white clothes.

"How unfortunate," sighed Rakis. "Had we been alone, I would have most certainly played with you a little. Maybe I will have this chance later, who knows?" He smirked as he watched the thralls dress her up in these white garments. It was a white kimono held together by a simple white belt. Why she was dressed this way, she had no idea. And the only thing she could think about right now was the best way she should kill this pervert, brain-damaged shit fucker of Rakis.

The thralls under the careful management of the mind Archmagi brought her to a jail built entirely of Blumar. She felt her Mana being oppressed and the hold over her mind disappear. She sighed at the both and glared at Rakis with a promising stare.

"I will rip your guts out and feed them to you, Rakis," she swore, her eyes bloodshot.

The Mind Archmagi smirked and closed the jail's door, giving the key to the female thrall.

"And I will fuck your corpse, Milena." He promised coldly, before licking his lips. "I knew ever since you were a child that you would grow into a flower worth plucking. Wait for me, Milena. I will take my due."

Milena lunged forward and reached through the jail's bars, only for Rakis to dodge away with a mocking laugh. His laughter echoed in the dark tunnels, resonating in her mind even after his departure. Milena collapsed on the ground, battered and exhausted. She wiped away her tears and drew up a long, deep breath.

"Next time I get the occasion, I'm not holding back," she muttered. "I'm done with this undercover idiocy. There's a time for subtlety." Her face hardened. "And a time to act like Glenn."

She clenched her fists tightly before hugging her knees, the blood-red flames shining their ominous hues on her face.

***

Countess Dilana clipped off her dress and approached Sahro hungrily, pushing him against the wall. She could feel his strong, powerful heart beating loudly and regularly. His blood smelled of sand and fire, of thunder and... beasts? She shook the thought away as she caressed his chest hungrily, running her fingers on his chiseled muscles.

He truly was a wonderful specimen, this mortal. A Black Heir, too. These were very, very rare in the noble's Black Market, so much so that she hadn't seen one for at least half a year. She was certain the old vampires kept a few to breed in their somber domains, but none they'd be willing to share. But even then, she was sure none of these bred-up mortals would measure up to the stallion she was brought. A true warrior who even lost an arm to a probably legendary fight.

And tonight, she would feast upon his flesh.

'Ah, what luck. Truly, what luck...' She giggled to herself as a crimson wave surged out of her shadow and covered every inch of the room. Unlike most of her peers, she was quite shy with this sort of business and enjoyed doing it in privacy.

"This way, no one will see or hear us unless I desire it, sweet mortal..." she muttered with desire. Mortals thought that becoming a vampire meant abandoning desires and becoming some sort of cold, calculating undead. This was true for some. For others, the opposite would happen. Her fangs gleamed under the crimson hue of the torches as she already imagined the taste of his blood. She sank her teeth into his skin, groaning in pleasure.

It tasted... it tasted... of sweat and salt...?

Why couldn't she taste anything?

Dilana opened her eyes back up and frowned at the throat she bit on, confusion rising upon her when she realized she'd failed to pierce the skin.

"What?"

That's when the Black Heir suddenly grabbed her throat. A red, crackling light crossed the air, violent and electric. Not the blood-coloured light she was used to; no, this was the dangerous red of thunder.

"None will hear or see us, you say." The Black Heir looked at her coldly. Countess Dilana shook uncontrollably as the man before her finally released his strength, a shadow of a mighty scarlet fox rising behind him. She felt like a mouse in front of a tiger. A prey before the hunter.

Her eyes widened in horror as she finally realized.

She was a hen, and he was a fox. A fox who'd stumbled right into the chicken coop.

And he was going to eat them all.