"Fucking bastards!" Damian bellowed as he tossed a wooden chair and watched it shatter against the wall.
With his eyes bloodshot, Damian fumed as he recalled the events of the gathering.
Never could he have imagined such a thing happening.
The Dukes that had been scared witless by him seemed to have grown a bit more balls after learning about the supposed rise of the Dark Lord.
It showed just how serious the matter was.
Damian had just established his reign in Krobridge yet some unknown fucker was trying to take everything away from him.
"Damn it!" He cursed as his authority was unleashed, destroying everything around him.
At the side, Horace watched the scene with an expressionless look on his face.
Internally, however, he was having quite a field day watching Damian lose his wits.
’How does it feel to have your reign threatened?’ he asked internally, not daring to voice out his thoughts for fear of being killed by Damian.
Meanwhile, Damian could barely control himself as he began to figure out how to save what he had built up.
Even with the ideology that the rise of the Dark Lord signified a new age for the Vampires and their other Night brethren, for Damian, it only meant he’d have to work under someone again.
Didn’t he already have his hands full with Crow mask?.. Yet a Dark Lord was awakening as well?
"Why can’t everything just work the way I want!... Why must troubles spring up at every possible turn!"
He had to do something... after everything he had enjoyed since gaining the power of a Monarch, Damian couldn’t bear to lose it again.
"I have to become the Blood God... that’s the only way to escape all this," Damian said after managing to calm down.
Seeing an opportunity, Horace spoke up. "But Sire, what’s the likelihood that the risen Dark Lord would allow you to ascend to such a height?"
"... You are right," Damian muttered.
Taking a moment to consider his options, he remarked. "We have to find the Dark Lord."
"What do you plan to do when you find him, Sire?" Horace couldn’t help but ask.
Damian remained silent, unwilling to give a response at once.
First glancing to meet Horace’s deep gaze, he asked. "Tell me something."
"Do you also believe that this Dark Lord can lead the Creatures of the Night to a new age?"
Horace pursed his lips before slowly replying. "... The means used to get the prophecy cannot be easily questioned, Sire."
"So it must be true?"
"What do you think would happen if I try to continue with the Blood God ritual?"
Horace didn’t have the mind to easily respond, taking a moment to seek out possible escape routes before he replied softly. "The Dark Lord is a being capable of leading our kind to greatness... I do not believe he would take it lightly if another Vampire dared to take his place."
"So he would come for me?"
Damian nodded in understanding. "... Then there’s no need to wait for him to come. I want to assume that since he is newly born, he wouldn’t have reached full power yet..."
"You wish to carry out a preeminent strike, Sire?"
"To protect my rule... I will not allow anyone to threaten it."
"... I understand, Sire," Horace muttered with a slight bow as the corner of his lips curved into a sinister grin.
Damian no longer paid heed to Horace’s gesture as he remarked. "Tell the guards to bring in the Vampire that claims to have seen the Dark Lord. We need to know what we are dealing with."
An hour later, Finnick was kneeling before a calm Damian.
Of course, Damian seemed calm on the surface but internally, he was like a volcano threatening to erupt at the slightest touch.
"Monarch, you called for me," Finnick said with his head slightly bowed.
His tone of speech seemed respectful but Damian was no fool.
He could guess that it was all mere pleasantries.
Taking a deep breath, he asked. "Tell me about the Dark Lord?"
Finnick flinched in surprise for a moment before he quickly regained himself.
Slowly raising his head, he met Damian’s eyes and asked. "The Dark Lord?"
"Yes... Can you describe him?... What powers does he have?... What is the strength of his authority?"
"This..." Finnick was left speechless.
And here he thought Damian was interested in learning about the hope of Vampire Kind.
"What?" Damian raised a brow.
Finnick muttered. "Monarch..."
"Stop dawdling and answer the question, Finnick," Horace said from behind.
"..." Finnick realized what was at stake and after a brief hesitation, replied. "Help me with a piece of paper, I’ll draw the great one’s likeness."
"Hmm." Damian acutely caught the term, great one, but chose not to pursue it.
Though he so wishes he could, he knew now was not the time for it.
Letting out a brief sigh, he reached into his pocket and felt a piece of parchment there.
Pulling it out to study its contents, it turned out to be the same one Crow Mask had given him.
Damian stared at the parchment, a complicated expression on his face as he thought of a possibility.
Was it a mere coincidence that Crow Mask had warned of this man at the same time news about the Dark came out?
He glanced at Finnick before tossing the parchment to him. "Do you recognize that man?"
Finnick picked up the parchment and after a brief scrutiny, his eyes widened in astonishment. "The Dark Lord!... You already had his likeness drawn!"
"..." Damian could barely contain the anger in his heart at that moment as a lot became clear to him.
Just as he considered the implications of his current situation, a knock was heard at the door.
"Sire... the Liaison is here." The person on the other side quickly answered.
Damian’s expression contorted briefly before a random thought came to mind causing his facial muscles to relax.
As the corners of his mouth curved into a sly grin, he muttered. "It would seem... I might be able to deal with two birds using one stone."