Symbiotic Ascension : A Progression Fantasy Adventure

Sahro dutifully cleaned his mechanical arm, getting every drop of blood and flesh out of it. It was a calming work to clean this fake limb. He called it fake, but in truth, he was starting to have trouble distinguishing it from his other fleshy arm. Not in appearance, of course, but in function. He had grown so used to it, so comfortable, he honestly wouldn't be able to tell whether he'd prefer to get back a new fleshy arm or a new improved prosthesis. Both seemed like wise choices to him.

Even taking care of the filth tainting his arm felt good, in a strange sort of way. The Black Heir sighed before throwing the rag he picked up from the floor earlier, barely sparing a glance at the smoking pile of flesh, bones, and blood it landed into. Sizzling, crimson electricity was still running through the puddle, destroying any hopes of regeneration.

"Glenn fought Baron Howards, who was a little weaker than the sorts of you," said Sahro as he crouched in front of the puddle, frowning. "He told me how absurd your regenerative healing factors were. Masters of blood, capable of piecing themselves together even after being reduced to such a state."

Sahro scratched his chin, pondering. "That's why I used so much of my power. I didn't get the chance to try out my Primal energy much, aside from that Newborn Ruler, the Thorn's Church Pope."

The puddle trembled at his words, still struggling to form back into a shape. Each attempt ended with another release of primal lightning, increasingly reducing the amount of blood and flesh left.

"After all, Glenn had needed his Soul-eating sword to kill the Baron." Sahro shook his head in disappointment. "So here I was, hoping I'd be getting a fight worth what I had to endure on the way here. At least a proof that my strength had grown, that I'd progressed further than the magic-wielding bastard."

The Black Heir slapped his hands on his waist dejectedly. "But no. One discharge, and you died." He thought for a second before shrugging. "It's not that bad of a result. Raijin."

A crimson-furred fox crept out of his shadow and licked its lips at the puddle. Sahro turned away and looked at the red, crumbling veil that isolated the room. A few crunches and slurps later, it disappeared. Raijin burped lightly before jumping on his master's shoulder, pleased. Sahro absently scratched Raijin's chin as he left the room, heading back to where he'd been separated from Milena.

It had taken everything he had and some more to not intervene whenever Milena was mistreated, but as long as she didn't do something, he wouldn't either. There was a reason she wasn't asking for his help, and he was determined to find out what.

And by the Ancestors, did he find it.

'Vampires. Fucking ruh sayiya. Last time I couldn't do shit because of their illusions.' He clenched his fists tightly, grinning in victory. This time, their attempt of bewitching him failed right at the start, collapsing against his proud Primal Aura. This new power was, to repeat Glenn's words, the real shit. It was very reassuring that it could utterly destroy the vampires' healing factors. If he had to guess, that was probably thanks to them being a realm lower than him. They'd felt considerably weaker, like Expert Magis or Crusaders.

'Now, to find Milena. Raijin, find her.'

The fox yelped happily as it jumped off his shoulder and ran away into the hallway, red electricity trailing in the air behind him. Sahro returned to the altar room in a flash, thunder silently rumbling in his feet. The place was empty, with no traces of Milena, her mother, or that detestable Archmagi always hanging around, Rakis.

'I'd be more than happy to shove my sword through the bastard's heart,' he thought. There was something about the Archmagi that was simply so disgusting, it oozed of evil. And one thing he was enjoying more and more to do was slay evil. Sahro flashed away into a random tunnel, pressed for time. In truth, he hadn't expected being separated from Milena, but it was a good opportunity to get rid of the enemy and measure their strength.

If all of them were only as strong as that Dilana, it would be a piece of cake to burn their den to the ground. But he doubted it. They couldn't possibly be that ingrained into King's Rise if they were only that strong. One vampire he'd met earlier, the bald, mindless male, stood in his path. The Black Heir did not even stop for him, nor unsheathed his sword. He simply hurled his fist through the vampire's chest, blasting him from the inside with violent Primal lightning. The vampire exploded into steaming blood and meat, none of that dropped on Sahro's pristine clothes. The crazy human who made them forced him to swear not to damage them, and so he wouldn't. It had been really hard not getting any blood on it back when he killed Dilana, though.

But Sahro was a true warrior. And true warriors never betray their words.

'Milena, where the hell are you...?'

***

'This was a terrible idea.'

In truth, Milena was beginning to regret the whole infiltration thing. Aside from the shaming, the pain, the mental torture, and everything that made it such a terrible experience, it had ended with her finishing up in a Blumar prison, covered in weird revealing clothes and no hopes to escape. Blumar was indestructible unless someone had a weapon called Nelg that could cut through Blumar like it was butter, or the suitable tool.

Unfortunately, she did not have a Nelg in hand right now nor whatever people used to excavate Blumar.

Which was another thing she was starting to regret.

'I should have Soul-bounded a weapon instead of relying on dimensional pouches. Maybe I could have sawed my way through the Blumar or dug my way out.'

"Sigh..." She would have to wait for now. Surely, an opportunity would present itself. One thing she was a little surprised about was that no one reacted to her bare back. They should have noticed the steel, robot spine her grandfather had used to replace her old... liquefied one, but no.

'This was weird.' Not that she was going to complain, anyway. All the better if they didn't notice. This was one secret weapon she'd rather not reveal hastily. Even now, she could feel the two robotic arms trying to surge out of her back to assist her in any way they could.

'Not now.' She thought. The feeling went away for now.

"I apologize for the lack of facilities, but we rarely host guests in these jails," a suave voice suddenly said from outside her jail. Milena jumped on her feet, her hands raised defensively. Count Adrastos's lips curved in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "The virgin clothes suit you, Miss Milena. But then, I'm sure most would."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Milena frowned. "What the hell do you want, bloodsucker?"

The vampire's eyebrows creased, and he revealed his sharp fangs in distaste. "Please, at least refer to us with the proper noun. We are not some mosquitoes who can't contain their hunger. What do you know of vampires, Miss Milena?"

The young lady drew a short breath, wondering if she should play into whatever narrative the vampire had drawn up. Her choice was quickly made.

"Immortal, weak to sunlight, and uses blood-related magic, as well as illusions, mind magic, bewitchment, and all sorts of unsavory things. Also that your strength is separated in tiers, but in a different manner than for Aura and Divinity."

If she could drain out some information out of the fucker, she would. Count Adrastos's eyes widened in pleased surprise.

"Wonderful. I suppose you know so much thanks to your relationship with the Omniscient, correct?"

Milena sealed her lips shut, refusing to reply, but the answers flowed despite her will. "He told me all about you, and how you're all slaves to one true master."

The vampire rolled his eyes. "Slaves is such a strong word. We're vassals who received strength and immortality from our lords, who in turn received their powers from someone older and stronger." He snorted dismissively. "Sure, there was a unique Progenitor long ago, but he went into the Darkest Sleep long ago. Nobody even knows where Lord Nosferatu is, only that he maybe exists. And even that is not certain."

The young lady bit on her lips. Whatever trickery the vampire used, it was unpleasant. "What are you trying to do, vampire?"

Adrastos passed his hand through his long, raven-black hair, his blood-red eyes wiggling in amusement. Instead of replying, he threw a pair of handcuffs into the cell.

"Blumar cuffs. Unless you wish to stay coop in this jail waiting to be sacrificed? That is a choice I can back too, if you so wish." His smile had the disturbing effect of both disgusting her and making her heart race.

'I hate this. I hate this lack of agency. Feels like I'm losing who I am,' she thought as she bit harder on her cheeks, drawing out blood. The pain chased away the bewitching effect, at least for a time. She picked up the cuffs and put them on unwittingly, grimacing. The dark-blue, light-absorbing material was cold and rough at the touch.

The vampire made a broad smile as he opened the jail's door widely. Milena stepped out, wondering whether she should headbutt the damned bloodsucker, but something deep in her mind stopped her from doing so. It would probably sadden Adrastos...

Milena snapped awake and hurled herself at the vampire, who dodged away with a mocking laugh. "What are you trying to accomplish by that, Miss Milena? Lose the little honor you have left?"

"Shut up," she hissed as she bit harder on her cheeks. "Can't you turn off that damn thing? I can't even think with all this... this..." She lost herself in her thoughts, staring at the elegant, handsome vampire silently. He was certainly very pleasing to the eye, that was for certain. Adrastos raised an amused eyebrow before holding out his arm for her to hold. She did not even question it as she leaned on it, even as something tugged at the back of her mind.

This was natural. A natural thing. There was no point fighting it if she was enjoying it, right?

So why did it feel so wrong? What was it that was digging its way into her brain like a hungry worm?

It felt so... unpleasant.

She drew closer to the vampire, her eyes closing at his scent. He smelled of pine and refinement, with a touch of cold elegance. It was exactly to her taste.

Or was it?

Milena didn't care. It felt right to hang on that arm, so comfortable. She just wanted to be held in those slender arms, right against that powerful, pale chest.

"Please, follow me, Miss Milena."

She obliged without a word, her eyes misty and unfocused. They walked no hurry, the sound of their feet touching the ground in an almost gracious way. Milena was barefoot, the thralls having previously discarded her boots. But she was fine this way.

Everything was fine.

"Your mother, Lily, wanted to become one of us," said Adrastas with his suave voice. "We've... considered her proposal and told her we accepted. We would require a few powerful rituals, focus, and a sacrifice."

Milena stuck closer to the vampire, intoxicated by his perfume. He continued, unbothered.

"She brought the Corrupted blood samples, and you. Like expected."

The smell of strong perfumes reached Milena's nose, making her lose her footing for an instant. Adrastas held her by the waist with a seductive smile. White smoke filled the following room, the scent making her lose her balance and hold of reality. The entire world was bending and spinning as her skin grew hot and hotter with desire. She looked at the vampire next to her, pressing her lips together.

Could she...?

Adrastas turned his gaze to the smoke-filled room with a mysterious smile. "Look. Here is your mother."

Milena did as she was asked to, her eyes widening. Her mother was contorting in pleasure, vampires feeding and doing ungodly things to her. Her face was thinning in plain sight, her skin growing older and wrinkled, brown and lifeless. And yet, the moans of pleasure coming out of her only grew, soon reaching the climax.

"Please, come in with us," he invited her in with a gentle smile, taking a step into the decadent party. Countless vampires were moving, stuck to each other like puzzle pieces, moaning and groaning without rest.

"Join us in the cabbal, receive our gifts, so that we can offer you to Lord Nosferatu!"

Milena took a step forward, holding her breath when a cool feeling suddenly washed down on her. All the confusion, the desire, and the excitement disappeared, replaced by cold, calculative thoughts.

Snap!

Two futuristic looking arms of steel popped out of her back, veins of energy flowing through them. A ping rang through the room, putting a stop to the constant moaning and general debauchery.

[Aw hell nah. My granddaughter's ain't giving her first kiss to the likes of you.] A foreign, digital voice echoed in the misty fog, garnering confused and... fearful whispers. Adrastas took a step back as the colors drained out of his already unnaturally pale face.

Another ping rang out.

[Damn it. You're lucky I have to deal with this bullshit. Alright, solution number... hmm. Let's just do this.]

A pulse of Mana exploded out of Milena. The vampires braced themselves, but it passed through them harmlessly. They looked at each other before hesitantly chuckling.

"Haha... Hahaha!" Adrastas laughed, throwing his long, raven-black hair back. "Even the Omniscient can't do anything to us! We truly are the superior race! Mortals can't do anything to us!"

The digital voice scoffed. [We'll see about that. Sorry I didn't intervene earlier, Milena, but I needed to record this whole mess. Don't worry; what needs to be censored will be. Good luck!]

Milena shook her head, her jaw dropping on the floor. "What?"

Adrastas was about to laugh widely again when the closest wall exploded in a bright flash of electric red. Sahro brushed his hair as he unsheathed his sword, red lightning running down the blade with voracious anger.

"So many mosquitoes," muttered Sahro. A red fox yelped happily from his shoulder. "I wonder if Raijin will have enough space to eat you all."