"Richard Cunngindal, unbreakable wall of the north," Damien spoke while laying back in his chair; his eyes remained closed as he played with the silver dagger he had taken from Nicholas. "You should not be here."

Damien slowly opened his eyes and scrutinized Richard, "You bring an army to my gate. Enter my office with silver weapons and knights... Please tell me, Marquess, has there been a grave misunderstanding?"

The silver dagger snapped between Damien's fingers before falling to the floor. The broken weapon clattered onto the floor and found itself before the Marquess's feet.

Richard saw his reflection in the polished silver blade and gulped, "There has indeed been a misunderstanding, Duke Nightshade-"

"Prince. Refer to me as Your Highness. I am a Royal of the immortal vampires before I am a puny mortal Duke." Damien gestured towards the empty couch, "Take a seat, Marquess. It is improper etiquette to stand during discussions."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Nicholas went to block the Marquess, but the Marquess shoved the aged knight out of the way; Fay chuckled from Damien's side, earning herself a hateful glare from Nicholas.

The Marquess sat on the couch as if it was a prized possession and awkwardly sat near the edge. His large frame took up a similar amount of space as Thar did during the magic lesson.

Richard coughed into his hand to dispel some tension, "We come in peace. Do you have a method to avoid surveillance?"

Damien nodded, and a minute later, a small purple-skinned kobold walked into the room. His yellow snake eyes wearily looked at the knights that towered over him.

"M-master... I am here." The Kobold carefully spelt out each word, but a slight lisp followed despite his efforts. His snakelike vocal cords struggled with human speech.

"This is Varn Yddryr, an apprentice of mine. It may be uncomfortable, but he can protect us." Damien announced, and everyone appraised the little Kobold.

His ears fell against his head, and he shook slightly from the scrutiny.

Damien thought back on Varns abilities.

[Varn Yddryr]

[Kobold]

Schools of Magic:

[Wild Magic (B)]

Primordial Mana Manipulation [C] - "Manipulate the raw and untamed mana around and inside you."

Chaos Vortex [D] - "Creates a swirling ball of wild affinity mana that destroys other mana on contact. Can be thrown."

Chaos Zone [D] - "Creates a domain of wild mana around the caster, reduces the effectiveness of incoming spells, and enhances wild mana spells."

"We need protection from the Owl. Varn, can you use Chaos Zone on this room?"

The Kobold hesitated for a moment, eyes darting left and right. Varn took a deep breath through his nostrils before nodding. He closed his eyes in concentration, and then everyone visibly winced as the room's mana became a chaotic mess.

The knights surrounding the Marquess put up their fists in a boxer stance and surrounded their master. Nicholas put himself between Evelyn and Damien, ready to use his body as a shield.

"Be quick, Marquess, Varn's mana pool is small, and this is unpleasant." The air shuddered as mana twisted and swirled around in chaotic vortexes. If Damien had to describe the sensation, it was like gasping for air; his body was trying to draw in the mana from the surroundings, but the vortexes sucked all the mana in the room.

From the couch, the Marquess appeared unfazed apart from the slight discomfort on his face, "Wild mana... yes, this should work perfectly. Then, I will get right to it and save us all from this discomfort."

The Marquess leaned closer and lowed his voice, "Do you know of the Noble Pledge?"

Damien almost blurted out, "Of Course!" but luckily held back. 'A vampire would have no reason to know of the Noble Pledge; humans created it, and vampires rarely interact with Noble humans.'

"No."

Sweat formed on the Marquess's brow as his body desperately tried to draw in mana from the surroundings, "Very well, I will give a quick explanation. You likely already know there are two kingdoms on this peninsula, Oshal and Kassinki. The story goes that the humans felt inferior and broke the peninsula in two, with Kassinki dominating the west and Oshal controlling the east."

The Marquess wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his coat before continuing, "That's only half true. This peninsula is far too small with too few resources. Mages are greedy, and the path to power is long and expensive. Too many commoners were awakening their distant noble bloodlines as weak mages and consuming the resources; not only that, the nobles found themselves outnumbered."

Damien nodded, so the Marquess continued.

"That's when the royal family of Kassinki and the nobles had the idea to split the peninsula into two and stage wars. Then the commoners would fight in wars, reducing the amount-"

"Of wasted food and magical resources." Damien cut in with a grin, "Very clever. So the nobles sit back and laugh as the commoners exterminate each other."

The Marquess nodded, "This is what we call the Noble Pledge. If we have disputes, they are resolved through staged wars instead of killing each other. The agreement was made hundreds of years ago and has been in place ever since."

Damien caught Evelyn's shocked face in the corner of his eye but decided to ignore it, "You still haven't explained why you appear on my doorstep Marquess. Have I broken this Noble Pledge? Victor was a bastard son cast away from your family; this Noble Pledge doesn't protect such disgraces."

Richard Cunningdal nodded sadly, "That is not why I am here... Prince August is a threat to all of us. I also have suspicions that he has turned his faction into undead puppets and has therefore violated the Noble Pledge."

Damien shook his head, white hair falling over his blood-red eyes, "I am merely an honorary Duke awarded with this wasteland. The Vampires reside outside Kassinki and Oshal's jurisdiction, and I never agreed to follow such a pledge. Therefore, if your wish is to call me to arms, I will have to disappoint."

"Are you not of the Princess's faction? I heard you taught the Princess Magic, and Beldroth said you would support us in the civil war."

Damien licked his lips, "The Princess... has something I need. It's a mutual agreement. If she ascends to power, then I am glad, but this matter of the Prince... is of no concern to me."

The Marquess bit his lip and mulled over his thoughts, "We need a location to train and plan. Jannalor suggested Blackthorn, and I agreed with him. So, is there a way we could stay here?"

Damien struggled to hold back a smile, 'Seems I have more power over the conversation than I thought; the fear of the unknown is a powerful trump card. He doesn't know my motives or backing and therefore is being cautious even though he could squash me like a bug and wipe Blackthorn from the map in a single night with such a massive army placed outside.'

"Marquess... I believe this could be the start of a fruitful partnership. But unfortunately, the Princess faction is small. If Prince August has already taken control of the nobles in Kassinki, then there is little hope left for Kassinki's continued existence. The end is coming, and you know it."

Damien leaned back in the leather chair and interlocked his fingers above his knee, "You wish to prevent your territory from being destroyed as you find yourself surrounded by 'enemies' on all sides. Blackthorn to the north, Oshal to the east and Kassinki to the south. Although the wars are staged, there are still tensions between Kassinki and Oshal, and if a civil war broke out, Oshal nobles would swarm your lands like vultures. As a result, you would find yourself penniless, robbed blind of all you hold dear."

Damien stood up and tried to use levitation to escape the chair's comfortable clutches but found Varn's wild mana interfering with his spell. Damien pushed himself up with a grunt and walked over to the window.

"The wastelands are vast and filled with many hidden secrets sealed away behind monstrosities warped by mana. They are far too numerous for me, but conquering the wastelands is possible with an army."

Damien paused, "I support the Princess, and our objectives align." Damien gestured at the shabby Blackthorn town outside the window, "But this is honestly pathetic. Blackthorn needs resources and a workforce to recover. So here is my proposition, Marquess."

A shadow cast over his face as his fangs glistened in the morning sunlight, "Let's form our own nation, combine the vast wastelands with the territory of Cunningdal. Together we would rule the top half of the peninsula."

The Marquess's mouth hung open "But-"

"Listen." Damien interrupted the man, "Once we defeat the Prince, we put the Princess on the throne as a mere puppet. We then gather power together here in the wastelands. Trust me, within the year, we will have the fighting potential to deal with anything Kassinki and Oshal could throw at us."

"But the Noble Pledge..."

Damien smiled, "My nation has no such thing. Stay as a Marquess, hiding in fear within your border territory and continue your phoney and pointless wars. Or join me and become so much more."

The Marquess looked towards Evelyn in thought before lowering his head; his long reddish-brown hair fell over his aged face. He then began chuckling, which devolved into full-on laughter. His booming voice filled the room; even Nicholas joined in the merry laughter.

Varn collapsed in the corner in exhaustion. The wild mana faded away.

The Marquess slowly stood, gasping for breath from laughing too hard. He then locked eyes with Damien and grinned, "Interesting! I got bored of these staged wars anyways. I like the way you think, you crazy bastard."

Richard Cunningdal reached out his massive hand, "Looking forward to our future success, Your Highness."

With great relief, Damien shook the outstretched hand.

"Likewise, may we prosper together."