Blood Legacy: New World Of Doom

"Dorgocron, eh?" Magnus snorted in Ikaris' head. "Why not? In my Blood Legacy there's the reverse scale of a blue dragon and if I wasn't cheated on the merchandise it should be another Eldwyrm's Bloodspark. Getting his favor shouldn't be a problem."

The old Vampire then proceeded to give Ikaris a crash course on dragons as he left the tavern with his three new recruits and their luggage. It turned out that the word dragon encompassed a lot more than he had thought.

As with Vampires and Werewolves, Dragons also had their own Curse to deal with and their own method for categorizing their fellow Dragons based on the purity and nobility of their pedigree.

At the very bottom were the lizardmen, who technically had nothing to do with the mythical equivalent they aspired to become. Above them were the Dragonkins, mostly hybrids in the sense that true Dragons were creatures with a strong sex drive not always limited to their own species.

There were more of them than one might think. A chicken that was a tad bigger or fiercer than the others could very well have a dragon as a distant parent.

Depending on the dilution of their bloodline over the generations, their draconic attributes could regress until their distant descendants were no more than common animals, their supernatural nature indistinguishable by their appearance.

Then there were those who could claim the title of Dragons, again taking many forms with the Drakes and Wyverns at the bottom of the hierarchy. Above them were the Wyrms, the western dragons of legend, characterized by four legs and a pair of membranous wings, unlike the Wyverns, whose front legs were also wings.

Wyverns could evolve into Wyrm by surpassing their limits but this was quite exceptional. Even more so than the Vampires, the potential of their species was fixed at birth, but just like the Vampires they kept growing, getting stronger and wiser as they got older. Their lifespan was incredibly long, making them some of the most dangerous magical creatures in the Forsaken Lands.

In theory, a Wyrm could become as powerful as an Eldwyrm, but never by their own efforts. To become an Eldwyrm, those gigantic and unfathomable dragons of legend, one had to be born one or kill one to take its place.

The Dragons' Curse was their insatiable greed, and to a lesser extent their irrepressible urges. All Wyrms could change their appearance and there were many human-looking descendants scattered throughout the Forsaken Lands.

A lecherous, sadistic king, monopolizing all the wealth of his kingdom in his treasure vault... Right, it could be a Dragon or one of his direct descendants living under human guise.

"The reason I didn't want you to absorb this Bloodspark first is because at the slightest change of mood you could manifest draconic traits." Magnus concluded as they left the dark, narrow alleys to reach the Trade District's main street. "It's okay if your eyes change or you grow some antlers, but if you lose control and turn into a bloodthirsty dragon it's going to be a lot harder to deal with than a mere werewolf transformation."

Ikaris shivered as he heard this. If the same incident that happened when he assimilated his Vampire Bloodline took place, it would be a miracle if Last Saint Village wasn't reduced to ashes when he woke up.

"Well, it wouldn't have been as dire if you had absorbed that Bloodspark first, but now to be honest I'm a bit afraid of what the outcome might be." Magnus confessed telepathically with a raucous laugh.

Ikaris couldn't help but agree with him. Before he could assimilate this Bloodspark he would have to be extra careful.

"Where to now, my Lord?" Poppy, the scruffy priest of Elsisn asked cheerfully, interrupting the mental discussion between the boy and the vampire ghost.

Ikaris turned his attention back to the pedestrians and stores around them then said, "I'm looking for a place to buy some stuff for a forge and a skilled healer. Someone who can remove scars."

The two twins glanced sideways at Danchun and the many scars on her face and hands. After a quick thought, they nodded with a glimmer of realization. 'So it's for her.'

"I'm also looking for a good tattoo artist. The kind that could reliably draw Runes." Ikaris then clarified.

Mira and Newen simultaneously raised their hands and asked in perfectly synchronized voices, "What kind of Runes?"

The original trio was taken aback by their reaction, but as their Lord he could not be fazed so easily.

"The kind of Runes that protect against the Black Fog that spreads across the Warring Lands every night." He answered truthfully.

"The Black Fog let loose by the Tartarus Gates every night?" Mira alluded with a know-it-all look.

" You know what it is?" Ikaris had some trouble keeping his astonishment in check.

"I am a priestess of Kinah after all." She boasted as she proudly puffed her chest and tilted her chin up. With her small stature, there was something comical about her victorious pose. "If the offerings are enough, there's not much I can't know."

"Oh, so that's how it works." Nardor stroked his beard in awe. "The saints in this world look more useful than the false gods on my old planet."

"Why ask what kind of Runes these are?" Danchun suddenly raised.

Newen answered on behalf of her sister this time,

"If it was for artistic purposes, it would be more my responsibility. If it's for magical purposes or knowledge like a language, I need my sister's help to tell me what to draw."

Ikaris remembered his conversation with Magnus about the twelve Major Saints and understood what she was implying. Asanah was considered the Art Saint and was known for her artistic talents and inventiveness. She had invented all sorts of things during her lifetime using the knowledge of her sister Kinah.

Perhaps it was no coincidence that the two twins served these two Major Saints. Surely there were requirements to be met in order to qualify for this position. Perhaps he was luckier than he thought by having met these two sisters here after searching for them for less than a day.

"This is a language created by Faulch to control the Black Fog and the Undeads he created." Ikaris repeated what Magnus had taught him when he arrived at Cutthroat Island. "These runes have no power of their own, but the Black Fog and whatever it contains seem to value them. My goal is twofold, to understand the meaning of these runes and to find a way for my citizens to wear them so they can walk outside freely at night. At least in my territory. My instinct tells me that the Black Fog is not something that a few runes engraved on the doors of a thatched cottage or a palisade can keep at bay forever. When the calamity comes, I want to be ready."

"Wa-wait! There's a Tartarus Gate near your territory?!" Poppy nearly shat his pants as he listened to his new Lord speak.

If he had known he would never have signed! Wait... He hadn't signed anything at all. Sneaking a worried glance at the two sisters, he moved closer to Mira's ear and whispered, thinking no one could hear them,

"Psst! We better get out of here while we still can. I'll provide a diversion."

"I refuse." Mira shook her head. "Look, Newen is happy. I need nothing more."

And indeed, her sister was jumping up and down at the thought of receiving the grand and noble title of Last Saint's head tattoo artist. The mortal danger of the Black Fog and its Tartarus Gate was not part of her considerations.

The young priest of Elsisn's will wavered as he saw Newen asking Ikaris all sorts of questions with unbridled enthusiasm while clutching at his sleeve. The teenager was clearly uncomfortable with the promiscuity and tackiness of the young woman, but Poppy perceived something else.

The betrayal of her crush coveting another man! The truth was that he was secretly in love with, or rather a fan of, the two twins like many of the tavern's regular customers. Often, there was no difference between these two feelings.

In the end, it turned out that his sense of jealousy was stronger than his fear of the Black Fog as Poppy yielded with a heavy sigh, "Fine. I'll stay with you then to ensure your safety."

Ikaris, who had very good hearing, had missed none of this nonsense and he started moving again in search of his Healer. Meanwhile, they had killed two birds with one stone by getting a tattoo artist and a priestess for the price of one.

Luckily, the three renegade priests were very familiar with the city after spending so much time unemployed. With Poppy and Mira's guidance, Ikaris was quickly directed to the establishment of cheap material suppliers. A little later, they stopped in front of one of these buildings.