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Ichor: Blood Magic Sovereign

🇫🇷RavenCorella
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Synopsis
A primordial vampire wreaks havoc across modern day Asia. Beset by the catastrophe, Muchen has to sacrifice himself to save his family. In an attempt to reincarnate, the magus ends up lost in time, his soul stranded all the way back in 1410, amidst the brightest pyres of the Inquisition. (read more...) ~ A slumbering immortal awakes deep in the Himalayas, sowing lethal nightmares across the mortal realms. Millions perish throughout India and China in mere hours, even as national armies struggle fruitlessly to contain its hunger. Ancient paragons of magic descend from isolation, and shapeshifter beasts rise up to defend their tribal courts, all in vain. Werewolves and vampires put their eternal conflicts aside and unite, not in an effort to win — but to live. Muchen Feng is an old mage caught up in an aftershock of the creature’s awakening. Despite his best efforts, he fails to hold on to what he cherishes most. Unwilling to resign to his fate, Muchen seeks a path to the past, and tries to reincarnate. Born anew, he shall rewrite all wrongs and erase his regret at the source. Alas, his plan goes awry and the ritual is interrupted just as success is within reach. His soul is nearly torn asunder, and he forfeits control over his own fate. Adrift in time and on the brink of collapse, he finds refuge in the Dream realms, but that shelter is far from flawless. Unable to halt his soul’s decay, he resigns himself to chance. Centuries earlier, in the savage Maltese Archipelago, a sickly infant is abandoned at the Valetta port. Taking pity on the dying boy, a kind soul takes him to a monastery. That pity however is misplaced, for within that frail body linger the last embers of a drifter from the future.
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Chapter 1 - Nightmares in Tibet (Prologue)

« The Himalayas; India »

« Anno Domini 1999 »

— ☯ —

An unusual plane hovered steadily thousands of meters above an enclosed mountain valley. The craft didn't bear the emblem of any air force, but boasted an unmatched level of sophistication that would leave first-world governments in awe.

Even as it flew over Sikkim, and almost transgressed on the Chinese airspace by nearing the Nepal and Tibet borders, nothing detected it. One could easily confound this marvel with an otherwordly UFO, but there were no aliens on board — only mortal technomancers.

Thanks to its auxiliary set of vertical spell-tech engines, it could move in an instant in any direction. Furthermore, an advanced seal kept it entirely silent under the barrier of sound. As such, this plane could easily preserve the secrecy of the Red Dragon's clandestine work. Even now, their approach to the target had been entirely stealthy.

Although the area seeming barren and devoid of life, the restless men in the hull went through several breathing exercises to prepare themselves. Not for the jump, but for what they expected to find on the ground.

A green light flickered continuously in the bay, signaling their arrival at the drop-zone. The paratroopers stood at attention with solemn looks. After meticulously checking their backpacks, they approached the bay door with hesitation.

Despite being one of the very best special forces units in the world, fear took over their instincts and rooted them in place. A soft blue shield of light parted when it was time, letting in a surge of cold air that sobered them up. Forced to ignore the silent pleas in the back of their head to turn back, they finally leapt out into an insane nosedive.

Surprisingly, even as their altitude dropped below a hundred meters, no parachutes opened to stagnate their fall. It was only when they neared the ground that flames burst from underneath their arms and feet, exposing small propellers that slowed their momentum. The descent of the iron men was both silent and swift, despite their prior display of weakness.

Just as the men touched the ground, they frantically opened their bags and hurriedly assembled an odd rectangular device. It barely took them a few dozen seconds to do so, yet even that brief delay seemed nerve wracking to the unit.

"Portal assembly confirmed."

As soon as the words echoed in their radios, the men breathed in relief and formed a defensive circle around the device. One of them, the captain of the unit, fired an emerald flare from a quirky tube launcher.

As the vibrant flame soared into the skies, it seemed to touch upon a previously invisible barrier. A small spatial distortion was triggered, akin to a ripple in a lake. Then, the horizon was all but torn asunder.

Whereas previously the valley showed itself bare and uninhabited, now a towering castle manifested right before their eyes. Ripped out of prehistoric time, it was dilapidated and worn, clearly aged by millennia of isolated decay.

The men were prepared for this and were mostly unfazed. The state of the castle did not alleviate their concerns, however. They maintained a spike formation and waited tensely. It was torturous, and before long beads of sweat accumulated on their brows even with the temperature being well below -20 degrees.

At last, as if a cruel denial to their prayers, they heard something. From the shadows of the castle, soft thuds hammered the earth as a colossal mutant rampaged its way over. Dozens of meters high, the creature seemed to be a hybrid of a mammoth and a turtle.

Its horrifying scale aside, it boasted vicious weapons in the form of blood-caked tusks, seven meters long. Gleaming bone spurs emerged from underneath its solid carapace, setting up a forest of defensive quills.

With a mindset to purge the trespassers, the beast reached the defensive line with misleadingly quick steps. The horrid abomination was so paradoxical in nature, that for a moment the men refused to even acknowledge it being real.

"The horror is a distraction. Look out for the unseen targets."

The captain warned his men solemnly and broke them from their stupor, then fired the dispel launcher again. Yet, the flare didn't dissipate the prehistoric elephant as they thought, for it was not an illusion to begin with.

A costly mistake, because nary a moment later, the creature's stomp flattened a man to the ground, leaving only a small puddle of blood in its passing. That exposition of gore was only the beginning of its lunge.

"Fire! Fire at will!" The man exclaimed in horror and carelessly dropped the expensive launcher in favor for his gun. Thankfully, much like the rest of their gear, their weapons weren't mere assault rifles. As soon as they lined up their aim, bursts of violet plasma submerged the chimera in a flood of radiation.

The chimera trumpeted its pain and anger as the lasers melted holes across its shell. Unable to get close, it responded with a volley of quills which shot out like spears from its back. Despite the scattered accuracy, its attack pierced through several men who banked on their luck or couldn't dodge in time.

In an instant, their numbers were halved, and the monster advanced! This was merely the prelude of its slaughter. With their resistance diminishing, it started to tear into them unimpeded, warming the cold mountain with their entrails.

Thankfully, before the agents gave in to despair, the portal device lit up behind them, and a clunky metallic leg stepped out.

What followed was a continuous stream of bland silver robots with the designation "Mark V". Yet, that ugly three-legged machine brought immense joy and hope to the squad, who hurriedly backed up behind the fodder.

The robots promptly surrounded the creature and quelled its aggression with uninterrupted rounds of fire. Despite using explosive rounds, it still took a dozen seconds for the beast to fall to its injuries.

But, no one cheered.

"Something is wrong. We were expecting a standard elder's refuge. What is this? The scans show no other targets."

Watching the silent castle, the captain observed his scanning device solemnly. No one in particular answered his mumbling, so he could only sigh his worries away and signal the men to continue.

The portal soon closed, and the man regained some confidence as he surrounded himself with a legion of robots. Their squad was down to 7 men out of 18, a catastrophic outcome that would surely taint his stellar record.

The castle was ransacked with uncanny efficiency, but other than a dense layer of dust, they found nothing. Even now, they didn't know what the mutated elephant fed on. And, assuming it was a guardian — what was it a guardian of?

"Whatever. Call in the landing squad," the man ordered his adjutant, who promptly mounted up a dish satellite communicator. "Tell them there are good antiques here at least. Tear the place apart and sell it… not that it will redeem eleven lives."

A few hours passed and the sun set, shrouding the valley in complete darkness. A boisterous clamor surrounded the captain as he smoked his cigar in silence. Hundreds of men in unmarked uniforms were retrieving anything and everything of value from the palace.

Unbeknownst to the beehive of activity above — a creature stirred from its sleep deep beneath them. Hundreds of meters below, within the core of a mountain, a stone sarcophagus creaked open.

A pool of murky blood struggled to reflect the rising creature as it woke from centuries of slumber. 'It' wasn't by any means monstrous, and merely resembled an elderly man suffering from malnutrition.

Compared to its dead guardian, this monster seemed small and frail, almost a non-threat. That assumption only held true if one didn't account for its gluttony. Luckily for it, its appetizer was already here.

"I hunger," it protested in a soft whisper.

Its displeasure was soft-spoken like a silent plea, but it shook the cave and a path opened up before it. The monster then calmly began its ascent up the stairs. There were thousands of steps chiseled in the mountain, but its speed made it seem like each footstep carried it dozens of meters.

Before the agents could react to their scans, the castle's floor burst open, and it emerged before them. Its crimson eyes shone in the moonlight for the first time in centuries, and with it — nightmares flooded reality.

"I hunger." The whisper repeated, and screams followed in a cacophony of death.

The creature stood unmoving and didn't bother to act, because its words were enough. Its powerful intent dwarfed common sense and rewrote reality itself, plunging the mortals into their worst nightmares.

The men clawed their own flesh out as their pupils widened in sheer horror. Each of them trapped in a nightmare of their own, they succumbed to the best tool humanity had — imagination. This time, their God-given gift was a lethal weapon that became their undoing.

Only the robots lay still, as if the creature or its death symphony was not played in their midst. Their advanced programming and recognition software streamed continuous errors as they sat motionless. Were they conscious, they too would come to intimately know horror.

The captain was the last to fall, his eyes briefly shimmering back to reality after he 'won' against his opponent. Yet, he found himself with his entrails laid bare, the bloodied knife in his left hand just recently lodged in his own heart. Lamenting weakly that he woke up too soon, he wished he could have died with honor in his dreams.

He watched the viscous liquid levitate from his wounds, submerging the creature in a crimson flood. Hundreds of men soon found themselves emptied, their husks dropping like lifeless flies in winter.

"I hunger still," were the last words the captain heard.

Though it was the end for him, it was merely the prelude of the catastrophe for the rest of the world. Now awakened, the creature would not return into slumber so easily.