The dragon's harem

Beneath the crimson twilight seeping through the church’s stained glass, Arad was sitting on the altar with a stern face. This place had changed since the last time he was here.

He can’t even call a church, a cathedral would be more appropriate.

Kneeling a few meters before him was a nun with skin as pale as snow and a face full of freckles. Arad slowly lifted his head, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

The nun’s blue eyes flashed with magic, and then narrowed. A smile slowly curled up her lips, and she parted her hands.

“Lady Eris told me you’re coming tonight, so I was waiting.” She was Zia, currently the head of the vampire church.

Technically, a Father should’ve assumed that role, but here they had a Mother called Zia. In terms of power, she was only second to Eris. But power didn’t matter, at least as far as Eris cared.

What matters to the vampire church is the purity of their blood; the closer they get to Arad’s blood, the higher their rank is. This rule has presented a problem.

The problem’s name was Lucia, the vampire Arad had turned recently. While her blood was purer than Zia’s, she was far weaker than even the paladins in vampiric powers. Zia didn’t think for a second that she could overpower Lucia in a spellcasting battle.

Zia was looking forward to correcting her standing.

Lucia didn’t seem to care much about running the church, because she had classes to teach. That only got Zia more frustrated. She could barely order the teacher to come and clean, let alone pray.

But tonight, Arad will fix that. He will turn her again into a vampire like he did with Eris. She’ll again be the Mother Vampire.

There was one problem, though. The process was painful and deadly, far worse than the first time. Eris had her divine blood, but Zia had none.

“This might be the best night of my life.” She stood. “But, it’s also the worst.”

Zia looked back with a sad face. “We’ve got no audience; they are all out hunting the cults.”

Arad nodded. “I know. My Void Crows are with them, watching.” His voice was calm, deep, and sharp.

“I wished they’d be here to watch. Give me strength and courage.” She looked at the empty seat, somber. “I’ve grown used to having hundreds of little sisters. We’re one, a collective force, like the bricks of this cathedral. One by one, hand in hand, stacked on each other’s backs, we’re one massive and sturdy building that can withstand dropping from the upper atmosphere.”

She looked at Arad.

“Now that I’m alone, I fear my will won’t withstand the pressure. That I won’t endure the change.” Her face contorted into a frown; she was angry at herself.

Arad closed his eyes, and the wind stirred. Zia’s robe fluttered, and soon some people appeared out of nowhere.

“I called the ones who weren’t actively moving or resting.” Arad looked at the nuns and paladins that he summoned.

Zia looked back, and her eyes opened wide because of the three standing at the front.

Eris, Akasha, and Lucia were there, looking at her: Only two of them. Lucia was half asleep.

“How about now?” Arad looked at her for a few seconds and then shifted his gaze to the nuns.

The nuns understood why Arad summoned them. Zia, their Mother, served as the head of the church. It was time for her to get stronger blood.

In terms of normal vampires, this would be the equivalent of a vampire lord making one of its spawn a lord to rule a branch family. It wasn’t just a promotion of rank and power, but a promotion of status among their kind.

Zia looked at the nuns with a smile. Her eyes then stopped at Eris and Akasha. She can’t embarrass herself here and die, can she?

But then, her eyes stopped at the sleepy Lucia. A frown crossed her face. She isn’t worried about her one bit.

Eris poked Lucia on the shoulder, “Hey, wake up. Zia about to evolve.”

Lucia rubbed her eyes. “What? The Charnushka face?” She yawned, “She’ll be fine. I have never seen a woman as strong-willed as her.”

Zia smiled and turned toward Arad. “Who are you calling a Charnushka face. Mud-brown.”

Zia took her coif off and threw it down. As she walked up the steps, she unbuttoned her robe and let it slide down her legs.

Zia’s skin was as pale as snow, with freckles spreading from her toes to her forehead. Scarce in some places and plentiful in others.

Zia didn’t gain those freckles naturally; she was one of the few vampires who attempted to conquer the sun on their own.

Zia had spent over a century meditating in light shade, sometimes even daring to endure the harsh sun. She hoped to get used to it on her own. It was in these years that she got all of those freckles.

To some, they might’ve looked unsightly on her pale and fair skin. But to her, they were a mark of her pride and unyielding resolve to withstand the sun. Coupled with her short black hair, icy cold blue eyes, and rusty red lips. She looked both mesmerizing and terrifying.

The vampires feared and respected her, for she doesn’t fear the sun. But to Arad, her cold eyes were the catching part.

Those eyes burned with a deep will and an unyielding resolve. As a vampire, Zia doesn’t just embody resolve, but the inevitable demise. Looking at her soul, Arad could understand one thing. Even steel would one day rust and wither away.

Zia finally arrived in front of the altar. She looked into Arad’s eyes. Knelt for a few seconds, then stood and approached. She slowly lifted her legs and sat on his lap.

She took a deep breath, wrapped her arms around his neck, and then looked away, exposing her neck. She had waited for this moment for ages, the day she would become a vampire lord.

Her hands and feet trembled. Her whole body shook in terror, fear, and hope. She started sweating, and her muscles fired. She did her best to resist the urge to run.

There were several reasons to be terrified. First, it was that almost no vampire spawn survives the trial, and death would be slow and agonizing. What’s more, Arad was far above other vampire lords. Even Eris suffered greatly in her second turning.

As Arad opened his maw, flashing a row of massive and sharp fangs, each at least a foot long, Zia gasped and pissed herself in terror, but she didn’t move a muscle.

Everything else is now up to her luck, willpower, and endurance. She must endure and remain conscious as Arad consumes all of her blood to the last drop, as her bone marrow is sipped and her very being is ripped apart and rebuilt.