The Seamist County fish market was eerily deserted.
Stewart Atzmon and Dave Gray carefully settled the bundled forms of Ethan Atzmon and Colt McCoy into the borrowed carriage.
I took the reins, inexperienced in driving a horse-drawn carriage, as everyone else was in no shape to do so.
Noa sat beside me, acting as a guide despite her weakness—the medication hadn't fully restored her strength.
The normally obstinate half-vampire horses were uncharacteristically docile, even trembling slightly.
I glanced at the dark stains marring my clothes, a grim reminder of the recent violence. The sea beast's dying words echoed in my mind.
The Leviasaur Empress of the Strait of Georgia.
It was this identity that had emboldened it to defy H.A.R.M. The Leviasaur I killed had a potential lifespan of over fourteen hundred years, but it had only lived for a hundred or so - the equivalent of a ten-year-old human child.
Despite its youth, it already possessed the strength of the early Wave Realm. I had killed a vampire of comparable lineage in Pinewood County, but then I had Rose's influence backing me. Any vengeful foxvamps could take their grievances to the Admiral of Cascadia.
This time, things were different. The weight of this act might be too heavy a burden for Ethan Atzmon to bear.
"..." I lowered my gaze in contemplation.
The Leviasaur was clearly injured, seeking refuge in the fishing village, likely having made grandiose promises to the sea god.
A lion out of its element is easily bullied by hyenas.
If it truly wielded such power, what made it fled home after wounded?
There was no need for undue worry. As long as I continued to use this panel, conflicts with vampires were inevitable, regardless of my caution.
However, vigilance was still necessary. Ultimately, it boiled down to strength.
If I were powerful enough, I would welcome the challenge of vengeful Leviasaurs, even finding amusement in it.
The panel materialized before me.
[Sea Lion Vampire, total lifespan of 1020 years, remaining lifespan of 70 years, absorption complete]
[Remaining Absorbed Lifespan: 1505 years. Mind Shard available.]
The absorbed lifespan I now possessed was staggering.
The sea lion vampire's short remaining lifespan didn't surprise me. Perhaps it was precisely the looming shadow of mortality that drove it to take such a risk.
Despite its limited lifespan, there could be advantages. Older vampires often possess higher realms, and their vampiric cores contain richer essence.
Young vampires, while having longer lifespans, are elusive. Few young ones wander without parental guidance.
A young, high-realm vampire like the Leviasaur usually had powerful connections and could cause significant trouble, not to mention being formidable in its own right.
If the Leviasaur hadn't underestimated me and joined forces with the sea beast to ambush me, four hundred years, let alone forty, might not have been enough to defeat them.
My gaze was drawn to the extra words that had materialized after "lifespan." A jolt of recognition shot through me; this phenomenon only manifested after surpassing the thousand-year threshold. As I focused, a line of text shimmered into existence:
[Exchange a thousand years of lifespan into a Mind Shard.]
[Mind Shard: An object that collects fragmented consciousness and memories from a vampire's life. When used during martial arts practice, it taps into the vampire's memories and intelligence to help deduce and refine techniques. Consuming a Mind Shard extends life and boosts longevity.]
The implications were instantly clear. As an ordinary man with limited talent, I understood the profound value of knowledge and experience. I had poured countless years into studying the "True Explanation of Astral Fortification," yet progress remained agonizingly slow. Even with Wave Realm martial arts at my disposal, those elusive "moments of inspiration" seemed to have abandoned me.
The harsh reality was twofold: I lacked a solid foundation in martial arts, and my mind simply wasn't sharp enough.
Those who could create new techniques and pass down generations were the true prodigies of their era.
For ordinary people, mastering even a fraction of a technique was a triumph, enough to ensure their survival. They dared not dream of anything more.
But the prospect of harnessing a vampire's experience to aid in my deductions... that was a tantalizing possibility, a chance to shatter my limitations.
"It might also be a fruitless endeavor though," I muttered, a bitter taste rising in my throat.
A thousand years. The panel's audacity was staggering.
It was a brilliant concept, marred by an exorbitant price. A flaw it couldn't conceal, no matter how it tried.
With a resolute sigh, I closed the panel.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. The path forward was clear: extract knowledge from H.A.R.M. and rapidly ascend in power. The token of allegiance had been offered; now it was time to see if this so-called top force in Cascadia lived up to Butcher Garcia's grandiose claims.
The carriage lurched to a halt, jolting me from my thoughts.
A sea of faces pressed against the only road leading out of the county. Peddlers, fishermen in their pungent short jackets, and a motley assortment of others lined the roadside, their expressions etched with a collective gloom.
They stood in silent vigil, their eyes following my every move.
A line of police officers, batons at the ready, strained against the crowd, their faces contorted with effort as they pushed back the throng. Sweat beaded on their brows, a testament to the palpable tension in the air.
"Don't look, just go," Noa whispered. She leaned closer, her warmth a stark contrast to the chill ocean wind.
And so, another soul was added to the list of those subjected to the crowd's cold scrutiny.
"Don't look, don't look," Noa Atzmon's forced smile did little to mask her concern, her palms slick with nervous perspiration.
Her concern wasn't for our safety, but for the mob's. She gripped my right hand tightly and reassured me, "Trust me, things will change." Noa remembered the way I stood in front of the gilded statue, fist clenched.
… …
The tailor's ruler she had used earlier wasn't measuring a mere mortal, but a deity in human form.
The villagers, gripped by terror and uncertainty, yearned for a new sanctuary, a beacon of hope in their desolate world.
The image of a young man standing triumphant atop the altar, the fallen sea god at his feet, had seared itself into their collective memory.
And time, Noa knew, was a powerful healer.
A new legend would rise, whispered in hushed tones, passed from storyteller to storyteller, its details morphing and twisting until even Kane himself wouldn't recognize the hero they spoke of.
… …
"What are you doing?" I pushed her hands away, my brow furrowing in genuine confusion.
"Um, aren't you angry?" Noa's eyes widened, her surprise mirroring my own.
I let out a soft chuckle, tightening my grip on the reins.
Back in Pinewood County, the whispers behind my back had been far more venomous, far more cutting.
With over a millennium of absorbed lifespan and the cores of two Wave Realm vampires, such trivial aggrevience were but a faint echo in the grand symphony of my existence.
Why so melodramatic?