++One can recognise the corpse of a vampire by its rather unusual discongruity. Upon death, their bodily matter simply falls apart. The leading hypothesis for why this is holds that, powerful undead as they are, it is only the animating magic of a vampire’s consciousness that forces coherence to what would, otherwise, be long-rotted meat. ++

  Chapter 50

  Reggie was alone with Norman and his two bodyguards, they’d ended up drifting to a secluded part of the city wreathed in shadows before the question—the only question that mattered—had emerged. Reggie felt it burning his tongue and lips as he spat it out, saw it fall to land between him and Norman, sizzling into the pavement.

  “Why?!”

  Norman didn’t flinch away from it, like so many people would. Was his conscience clean? He certainly met Reggie’s eye as if it was.

  “You know why,” he said, gently, softly, calmly. “We can’t just fix everything right away, you know this. It takes strategy to make things better. You need to be careful about it, patient.”

  “You don’t,” Reggie told him, “you got everything you wanted right away.”

  “I have to live knowing there are people being tortured in those asylums who could’ve been freed from them, I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. But I’ll also live knowing that there are less people starving, less cripples going destitute. I’ve done something good for the world.”

  Reggie almost laughed, seeing that damned optimism.

  “And all it took was for you to stab us crazies in the back,” he sneered.

  Norman’s eyes hardened. “Yes,” he spat, “that’s all it took. A small fucking sacrifice for what needed doing. In twenty years’ time, more people in Lorwick will have had the time and freedom to sit around discussing a better future. There’ll be more people in the unions, not less. Change will come even faster, one day it’ll have swept across the whole city. Maybe one day after that, it’ll start spreading through the rest of Engyr. Perhaps one day the world.”

  Reggie was only getting angrier, the more he talked. Norman’s words were like a star fort wall built around him, angled and deflecting everything. What he said was making sense, Reggie could see the logic and follow it.

  “But you’re still leaving people in the asylums,” he spat. “Did they get a say in this? Are people like me the ones who are consulted?”

  Norman’s eyes hardened. “They’re making a sacrifice.”

  “And they don’t get to choose whether they do. Don’t try to frame this like some noble loss, you’re just stepping on other people to get yourself ahead.”

  “Maybe that’s what it boils down to at the moment,” Norman snapped, “but in the long-term, I know what I’m doing is right. I’m sorry John, I really am, but the people in those asylums just aren’t in a position to help others. The workers, though? They just need a chance, opportunity to learn and talk with us, to gather together and stand up. They can make a change.”

  And there it was. “So it’s because we’re useless,” Reggie croaked.

  Norman didn’t shy away from the accusation. “Yes,” he replied, “ at the end of the day, yes.” We need people who can contribute to this cause. Nobody deserves to suffer as the people in that asylum are, but we have to be realistic. We have to pick and choose who we can help. Is it really worth jeopardizing everything for such a tiny group?”

  “Yes,” Reggie spat, “they’re in a worse boat than you, they deserve—”

  —”they’re a bunch of fucking lunatics,” Norman cut in, temper apparently fraying, “I’ll help them if I can, but I don’t have time or effort to waste on some idiot giggling and playing with his own shit in a cell. Not when I could be helping normal people.”

  Reggie smiled at that, sadly, emptily. “I guess not.”

  Norman smiled back. “Their time will come, John, their—” he looked somewhat surprised as Reggie transformed, and even more so when his talons came around to kill both his guards and slice the man right in half.

  It had been impulsive. A spasm of anger and hate, an abrupt rebellion against a world that just couldn’t help but kick Reggie no matter how long he stayed down, and a bundle of spite for the man who’d betrayed him. But despite all that, his act of violence was not random.

  Reggie was already moving onto step two of his impromptu plan before Norman’s body hit the floor. He caught the torso and sunk his teeth, fangs now, right into the neck. The mana in Norman’s skin was thin and frail, like tough leather rather than soft metal. It took almost no exertion for Reggie’s transformed self to slice through and reach the big veins beneath.

  Then he drank. He drank, because he was tired of being weak. He drank because he had things that needed doing, and knew he needed strength to do them. He drank because he wasn’t even sure why he’d been so averse to feeding from humans in the first place.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  He drank because if people were going to use him as some consumable resource, then he would do the same right back.

  Blood filled his mouth. It was salty and sweet, the stuff of life. The stuff of power. Reggie drank and drank, feeling the ichor slow as he drew more of Norman’s being into himself and subsumed it. In less than a minute he was forced to use his Blood Magic just to keep the liquid moving. In five seconds more, his victim was an empty husk.

  Progress to next Tier, 50/50. Reggie, what are you planning?

  Looked like he couldn’t progress his next Evolution without accepting the one immediately before him, first.

  He finally pulled his lips away from the corpse, wiped his mouth and straightened up. “The vampires here are keeping the asylums open, that makes them monsters. Hopefully this causes a few problems for them. The elves will be looking for Norman and they’ll find his body drained of blood beside two dead bodyguards.”

  You might be plunging Lorwick into chaos and war.

  “Lorwick should’ve stuck by the people in the asylums,” he spat, “I hope the fuckers all die.”

  The vitriol felt good. That didn’t mean it would do good, but Reggie enjoyed indulging in it.

  [This is brilliant Reggie, you should go and kill the Lady now!]

  He liked the idea of doing that of course, but Reggie was neither an idiot, nor suicidal. If she was Tier 4 or above then she’d be punching in the same weight class as that cockroach, and with an actual brain controlling her powers he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “What the fuck have you done?” Reggie turned to see the speaker was Walyn. He was staring at him, face tight with…not horror, obviously, more a thin distaste and disappointment. “You drained the union head? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you, you moron.”

  Irritated. He was staring at a dead man, and it had irritated him. Good. That made this much easier.

  “I…I panicked,” Reggie croaked, “I was hungry, and Norman started asking these questions about…About Norvhan, the town I came from. You know, the one with the…incident, regarding the Circumscriber.” He started towards Walyn, kept looking between him and the corpse, put up the textbook perfect impression of fear and confusion.

  “You panicked?” Walyn was angry, now, his eyes turning to rest on the corpse. “Fucking hell, Reginald, look at him! He’s in half! How did you even do this? What did you…” A frown creased his face, curiosity, thought, “did you have a machete or somet—”

  Reggie moved then, because he knew that now Walyn had started wondering, he’d soon be on guard and realising Reggie had kept things to himself.

  Two steps separated them, Reggie closed them fast. Faster than Walyn had expected, of course. He’d known about the cockroach, but in the heat of sudden violence he was all tied up with preconceptions, remembering how Reggie was instead of what he’d become. It slowed him by a fraction of a fraction of a second and saw that he was only just starting to move when the stake came out.

  Walyn’s eyes went wide and he tried to yell something, clipped Reggie’s head with a punch that felt as though he’d just been hit by a boulder falling from a cliff-top. But the stake found its mark.

  And that was when Reggie finally came to understand why vampires scurried around in the dark, despite all their power. Why they feared the people of their world.

  The skin and flesh he was stabbing into should have resisted Reggie’s strength as much as solid stone, instead it twisted apart like common meat. The pine sank in fast and chewed its way right to the ribs, prying even them apart with a twist.

  Finding the heart below.

  Walyn just came apart, like his whole body had suddenly forgotten everything it had ever been told about holding itself together, like every joint and connection making it up had given in at once. One moment he was standing there, writhing as the breaking pine bit deep. Then he was pulp and liquid slopping down to the cobbles under Reggie’s feet.

  Reggie stood there a second, thinking. It wasn’t exactly the scene of a mutual kill, as he’d been hoping to put together. Would it fool anyone? Probably not, not on the specifics.

  But it would look like a vampire had killed someone, and like a vampire had died. It would cause the conflict he was hoping to stir up. With that done, Reggie had hopefully bought himself some leeway. If the Lady didn’t end up wondering whether his remains were what had been left in the alley, then she’d be busy enough dealing with the elves that Reggie wouldn’t need to worry about pursuit for a while.

  Time to leave.

  This seems like a good time to tell you that you, uh…I’ll just say it the formal way. Ahem.

  Secret Quest Completed: human drained to death. Blood Magic improved to Blood Magic II.

  “Why did you wait to tell me this?” Reggie frowned, heading out of the alley.

  You had a lot on your plate and I didn’t want to interrupt your train of thought.

  Honestly, fair enough. “Thanks for the thought, then. I guess it didn’t hurt this time. Try to be careful about keeping things from me though.” Reggie caught movement in the corner of his eye and turned to see a pair of men glaring at him.

  “What are you doing, talking to yourself?” one of them asked. His breath smelled like drinking, the dangerous amount.

  “Nothing, sorry, I’ll be on my way,” Reggie turned and started down the street. Stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “You some sort of nutter?” one of the men sneered, with that glint in his eye that people got when they were looking for something to do, someone to hurt. When they were looking, and had found just the thing.

  Reggie felt a sudden tiredness overcome him.

  “You really want to start a fight with someone, just because he’s weird in front of you? Because you’re bored?” he asked the men evenly, didn’t bother threatening them. They both grinned wider.

  “Not talking to yourself anymore, are you?” one asked. “We scared you straight already?”

  “Not straight enough,” his friend added, “not—”

  Reggie punched him and didn’t hold back. This wasn’t a guard, his Toughness was untrained and barely gave him an advantage over a Vagrant. Reggie felt facial bones crack and splinter. Before the first man had even fallen, Reggie was already turning to the second and grabbing him.

  “What—” Reggie silenced the man with a punch, this time transforming before his fist landed. The added Strength actually proved enough to dent skull bones inward and push them right through the brain beneath. This one was dead before he even hit the floor. While the other still writhed and cried out, Reggie looked around to make sure they were alone. They were. Then he bit open his wrist and pressed it against the wounded man’s mouth.

  Vampiric ichor touched his lips and he seemed to drink on sheer reflex. The screaming stopped fast, replaced by confusion, by ecstasy. Then by a look of pure worship.

  “Run around,” Reggie told him,” spread word to whoever will listen about how you saw a vampire staked. How one killed your friend, how you pulled a sharpened chair leg off some union man’s corpse. Make sure everyone hears it.” He turned after seeing the man nodding pathetically, then took off into the night.

  Slavery. Cannibalism. Monstrosities. What did Reggie care? Good people did nothing and bad people were just as monstrous as any monster.