Ascendant Path of a Lustful Vampire Chapter 634: Conscience

Athenodora’s scowl grew deeper.

The vampires behind her bent low.

"Impressive, Your Ladyship," they chanted, "Your talent knows no bounds."

"Fifteen seconds," Athenodora said with a deep breath, "Fifteen seconds to kill those nobodies. That’s not impressive. It’s pathetic.

Bring in the next batch."

"Right away, your Ladyship!"

As the vampires moved to obey her order, Athendora shook her arms to ready herself, and the sleeves of her gown rode up to her elbows, exposing her perfect skin. She had no tattoos on them.

Her gown covered her back so Caius couldn’t be sure but he had a feeling she didn’t have tattoos on her back either. Not yet anyway. That part of her life was still well into the future.

And then a voice sounded with a sort of echo all over the Hall.

"A callous disregard for life as is expected of a vampire. But your magic... it intrigues me."

Athenodora didn’t react to the voice. At first, Caius thought it was because she was very focused on practicing her magic but then he realized it was because she couldn’t hear the voice as it was outside that memory.

Sure enough, a second Athenodora appeared. This one was identical to the Athenodora Caius knew and she was staring at a specific spot as though she could see something there that Caius couldn’t.

A mirage passed over the inside of the Hall just as the next batch of victims were lined up. Soon, the victims, young Athenodora, and the vampires who served her were gone and only the grown Athenodora, Caius, and one other person were left in the Hall.

The other person was draped in a robe but what type and what color was difficult to decipher because its entire form shimmered constantly. The person, who appeared male, was such a bundle of power that he didn’t bother attempting a facade of a normal appearance. From him, Caius could feel a concentration and depth of magical knowledge— the kind he had sensed from the indecipherable Arcane scripts he had passed on his sink into the Trial’s core.

With all the clues gathered, Caius could ascertain that this was the personification/manifestation of Dimension’s consciousness. The keeper of the Blood they were here to get.

"Blood magic," the dimension’s consciousness said, "My Creator would be amazed to learn of your existence. Amazed and weary."

"Who are you?" Athenodora asked, "Why infuse your Trial with such a chorus of cries that captures my attention and refuses to let go?"

"I don’t have a name if that’s what you require. My creator never gave me one. Never stuck around long enough to. But you can call me Conscience," the Dimension’s consciousness said.

"Conscience?" Athenodora raised a brow.

"Yes. I do think it’s fitting," Conscience said.

Caius said nothing. This was yet another departure from canon as Aurelius never actually met this consciousness in ’person’ like this, much less get something like a name. Aurelius sensed the consciousness’s presence, he even conversed with it, but never did they meet.

And Caius was sure it wasn’t happening now because of him but rather because of Athenodora. So rather than get involved and potentially mess it up, he just decided to wait and watch.

"And as for capturing your attention, I must inform you that it was not my intention. If you were drawn to the Blood, I’d hope it was because they tugged on your heartstrings.

But, as a rational being that I tend to be, I expect it was something within your magic that resonated with the Trial’s magic and pulled you in instead," Conscience explained.

"Why did you hope for the first option?" Athenodora asked.

"Why not?" Conscience asked in turn and then let out a sigh,

"It is rare for one who possesses your kind of magic to show compassion. The only case I can think of is my creator and even he came to that state very late in his existence."

"Blood magic makes people evil?" Athenodora asked in a level tone.

"Evil... seems harsh. Also, Blood Magic isn’t the cause, merely the symptom. Becoming a Blood Mage requires certain conditions;

Most important is to be a vampire. Only a vampire, a creature completely incapable of Light and given over entirely to Darkness and death could develop a talent in Blood Magic.

And Vampires are by virtue callous beings who exist to be parasitic to all things living to sate their eternal thirst and advance their magic. So sadly, evil while harsh seems... inevitable."

"Is that why you were sifting through my memories? To see if I was an exception?" Athenodora asked with an amused smile.

"Yes."

"So you know I’m not an exception," Athenodora said.

"You’re not," Conscience said, "But my creator already proved that even a heart as cold as a vampire’s can grow to care for the hurt another can suffer.

I see seeds of great compassion in you."

"You’re mistaken."

"You were forced to feed," Conscience pointed out.

"Yeah, when I was ten. I assure you I’ve fed of my own free will since then. If you’ve seen my memories—"

"I have," Conscience cut in to say, "I’ve seen all you’ve done. It’s no worse than my creator has done.

You’ve seen his memories."

"The battle that played before the start of the trial?" Athenodora asked.

Conscience nodded.

"A snippet of a much larger war.

My creator grew tired of being a subordinate so he slew his King and took his place as ruler. Many opposed him and rallied with the dead King’s last living relative.

It was a long and terrible war. My creator himself slew thousands and with his men, hundreds of thousands..."

"The one in Black armor?"

"Yes."

"But he died," Athenodora said, slightly confused, "We saw him die."

"There’s a continuation to that tale. It was supposed to play once you passed the Trial. An impossibility, of course, but if you did, then you would have seen what became of my creator."

Conscience waved his hand and the Hall became the battlefield. There was blood all over but it wasn’t a river as it had been before. The handsome—though not quite at the moment—man in black armor was still on his knees, a long and deep gash across his chest.

He looked dead. But then, his heart sputtered and he let out a groan of agony and despair.

"My creator believed himself dead. He was sure his soul was already about to cross over. Only for him to be pulled back and given a few more minutes of life," Conscience said.

"What pulled him back?" Athenodora asked.

"He said it was the resentment of all who had died on that battlefield because of him and that was everyone of the dead. On both sides. Because if he hadn’t slain the King out of greed and foolish ambition, their lives would not have been lost.

Their pain tortured him, keeping him alive to suffer it all before the sweet release of death.

My creator wished the pain to end. Pleaded to all the gods that he understood his fault but no one answered. No one seemed to hear the cries in his heart and his mouth didn’t work.

And then, she came..."

As Conscience spoke, a woman appeared. She was dressed simply. Dark hair down to the middle of her back. A shapely figure and a familiar-looking smile of amusement on her lips.

Her eyes were as dark as coal.

She stopped by the man in black armor.

"You still live," she observed. Her voice was rich.

And so, she crouched and her eyes turned red, revealing her to be a vampire. She sank the fangs into the man’s neck and fed on him. He didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps, he was in too much mental agony to care.

And then, the vampire punctured a finger and dripped her blood into his mouth to complete the turning Ritual.

The scene faded away and they were back in the Hall from Athenodora’s memories.

"So he was turned," Athenodora said to surmise.

"Vampire blood, when used in a Turning ritual, is very potent. But my creator was also resilient. And foolish.

After he had been blessed with immortal life by his vampire creator, he learnt all the wrong lessons from all the agony he endured from all those whose death he had caused.

He believed they were merely punishing him because his death meant they had died for nothing.

So he resumed his conquest. Now with immortal life, and armed with magic that most, if not all vampires lacked and only the sun to fear, he believed he had a greater chance at success."

"And did he have success?" Athenodora asked.

"He did. He recaptured the kingdom. Slew every last relative of the dead king and eliminated anyone not sympathetic to his regime.

Alas, with every death, his agony grew. The sorrows of the dead that had kept him alive those minutes before he was turned never left him. His immortality hadn’t ended his torment; it had only lengthened the duration.

Even with the kingdom acquired and thus giving meaning to the deaths, the dead still cried.

Because no cause is worth human suffering. No thirst, no ambition is worth the pain vampires cause. You have a chance to learn now a lesson that took my creator many more millennia of torment to learn.

Take the chance."