Vaid Empire: Conquest

Vaid Empire: Conquest

is a massive fantasy series that aims to mix

erotica

with the quality of a published novel. New chapters and artwork are released every month for free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access on the official Vaid Empire Website. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

The world of Ayphieal is shattered and chaotic, with kingdoms and tribes of six distinctive races vying for territory amongst themselves. It is only when a young human warrior finally pushes back against the chaos that the world begins to shift towards order.

***

9th of Onis, 14 AVE.

Shai Domain, Ishtai.

Varse scowled as he held his hand over the candle, testing the heat of the blue flame. Seated within Vesh's personal study, he didn't flinch at the sound of something heavy slamming against the wall from the hallway outside.

The door opened a moment later as Vesh staggered inside. The old one-eyed Dril wiped a mixture of green and purple blood from his dagger before hauling shut the reinforced door. "There's more of them this time. Nearly lost the rest of my left ear."

"They'll spare no expense to see me dead," Varse replied bitterly as a distant shout rang from somewhere within the circular building. Only Salik's report of the coming assassins had granted them enough time to prepare the new apprentices Vesh had accepted after Salik's departure.

"Ah don't worry, my Potentate. This room is the most secure of the entire building. I'd trust my own mother to sit with us now if I knew where she was," Vesh chuckled as he claimed a seat across from Varse. He eyed the four-pronged needle on the round table between them, allowing his tone to grow serious. "How will you proceed? Retribution is in order."

Varse nearly groaned at the very question that had pained him endlessly. "Retribution? Would you have me order the deaths of my fellow Representatives?"

Something slammed into the roof above as Vesh leaned back. "This won't be the last attack. We were lucky, but luck runs out."

Varse picked up the needle, knowing it would've been his death. Months of digging through old records was required before he discovered the documented reports regarding his predecessor's death. The mention of four tiny punctures in Ysil's neck was the final confirmation Varse needed. He wasn't the first Potentate to be targeted by corrupt Representatives. The peaceful history of The Domain was a lie, and he was merely foolish enough to believe it. "Tell me something. If I were to grant you the order to kill Sinshi and his cabal, would you obey?"

Vesh's expression grew darker than Varse had ever witnessed. "I'd only utilize agents of another species." He nodded. "But yes, I'd obey."

Once more Varse scowled as the needle slipped through his fingers. He heard the tiny clink as it fell.

"That answer doesn't please you?" Vesh watched as Varse picked up a thin slab of wood no larger than his palm. So close to The Domain's border, Ishtai wasn't quite cold enough to reliably sustain their ice writings, requiring the citizens to use other methods. Varse carefully began to etch symbols into the soft wood. "My Potentate?"

"This is an order to do just that." Varse held the thin slab between two fingers as if touching it revolted him. "I could grant it to you this very moment. How simple it would be to join their game."

"If that is your command, I'll see it through," Vesh replied carefully.

Varse's red eyes remained on the written command as he dangled it over the candle. "Is there a point in continuing this, Vesh? Why defend our values when so many readily discard them? I've sought to defend our traditions against this human God Emperor, yet what is their worth when I cling to them alone?"

The chair creaked as Vesh leaned back. "Bending our traditions hardly breaks them. Sinshi commands your death. We're justified in taking his."

"Yet I dreamt that we were better once." Varse dipped the wood into the tiny flame. It caught fire, slowly burning until he was forced to drop it. He stepped on the smoldering remains, grinding the ashes into the floorboards with disgust. A feeling of hopelessness crept into him, for he had held the very solution within his grasp.

Vesh cleared his throat as something thudded against the reinforced door. "Well, it hardly needs to be said, though I think you're making a mistake."

"Undoubtedly," Varse agreed somberly. "I won't kill a Dril, Vesh. Not by my own hand, nor the hand of an agent. Let them come again and again. They can kill me, for at least I held to our values until my end. It was only a dream. A dream that our species could be better than outsiders. That we Dril were equal in all things, incorruptible, rational, free. It was a beautiful dream, and one that shall be wiped away when the human legions come."

"Ever so grim." Vesh attempted to chuckle, though a glance from his Potentate quickly ceased any humor. "I suppose I should recall Salik from Palidri. They'll soon learn of the failure of their attack, and they'll grow cautious."

The Potentate shook his head. "There's hardly any point. In Palidri he may at least provide a chance to learn something of value. Here, he'd only guard a dead man."

"If that is your command, it'll be done."

Varse peered down at the ashes once more. Thoughts of his military expansion proposal crossed his mind. Aside from his initial disregard of these humans, he had been right about nearly every prediction thus far, hadn't he? If they'd only listen, their doom could be prevented.

Would

have been prevented.

He'd never relinquish his values, yet as he closed his eyes with a reluctant breath, he realized an alternative may just exist. "If the man he reports to have seen is the commander of Sinshi's assassins, this...

Jidun...

we must learn what he knows. There's still time. Send word to the boy that I require a list of the men under Sinshi's control.

Without

Jidun's death, for he is a Dril."

"As you wish, my Potentate."

11th of Onis, 14 AVE.

Domani, Capital of The Vaid Empire.

"Then the big oaf completed his duty, did he?" Rosila asked, already knowing the answer. She stood with Vixin as they overlooked the landscape from the royal balcony outside the princess's quarters.

Vixin nodded with pride. Hours had passed after her dalliance with Salduin before it had occurred. She

felt

it, the very moment of conception. It wasn't a mere tingle of her senses, but a physical burst of pleasure that nearly forced her into an orgasm. It was as if her body was rewarding her for reproducing, a feeling that had required the vigorous work of her fingers to satisfy throughout the remainder of the night. A similar sensation had occurred during the conception of her previous sons, though her senses had been far less sharp than they were now.

"Good girl. Your father will be proud to learn of your success." Rosila turned to place her hand upon the princess's belly. It remained flat, of course, for mere days had passed. "He's very sentimental about his 'little flowers', you know. From what little he tells me, it seems he wants to ensure a part of you passes into the next generation of House Vaid."

"It's likely he already knows." Vixin nearly shivered as her mistress rubbed her stomach, both fearing and savoring the touch.

Rosila chuckled. "The odd ways of you Vaids."

Vixin watched her mistress turn towards Fanir. The skinny slave stood silently, pretending not to listen to their conversation as he held a carved wooden platter carrying a drink for them both. He wore no hint of clothing aside from his collar as Rosila retrieved her drink, his chastity cage on display as per Vixin's orders. The humiliating sight of his caged cock brought a deep arousal to her royal loins. It was a cruel requirement, she knew, yet one that she would reward tenfold.

"It's a shame..." Rosila took a sip from the purple liquid before an absent expression overtook her eyes. "I shall miss the feeling of pregnancy."

"Oh? Why stop now?"

"I've granted your father three children. Three is enough to serve my part," Rosila replied, her tone far more distant than ever before. She then waved aside the comment, seeming to return to life. "Ah, but there is business at hand, sweet girl. You've read The God Emperor's latest commands, have you not?"

Vixin nodded. For some time she had wondered what had become of the thief she had sent for her father's assessment. Now, it appeared as though Kunir had been a success. "The God Emperor has deemed it necessary that all future Sage recruits are of his blood."

"Correct. I've already sent word to begin looking for girls whose paternity may be verified. The older members won't appreciate being phased out, though they'll obey without complaint." Rosila replaced her drink. "The Hesian Order shall follow suit, or so I'm told. Perhaps it's only right that you shall lead the Sages. They'll need guidance as their powers emerge, and I am...merely ordinary."

"You speak as though you'll have no place. I'll still require your wisdom, mistress," Vixin replied with a hint of concern.

Rosila smiled. It was an odd thing to see upon her face without an underlying venom. "A kind thought, though nothing more. I've done all I can for you, sweet girl."

Vixin watched the older woman lean against the balcony barrier.

"There's a thing I must tell you. A terrible thing." Rosila sighed as she looked to the distant mountains in the west. "A thing I've prepared to face for many years."

"Tell me, mistress." Vixin swallowed as her mouth suddenly felt dry.

She tapped the stone barrier for a moment as she pondered. "Do you know how old I am, little Vixin? Ah, the specifics aren't important. Still, I remain of breeding age, yet those days are numbered."

"Then you wish to retire from your duties?"

A chuckle escaped her. It was a devious sound, low and full of spite. "Not quite. You see, I've slept with a God, birthed divine daughters, yet I remain mortal. Your father claims his children shall not age, yet what of the rest of us?"

"I don't...understand," Vixin replied carefully.

"No, but then you wouldn't, would you? That's quite alright, sweet girl. Your father's blood shall ensure you remain as gorgeous as you are now until your death. You shall never know what it is to see your beauty slip away no matter how hard you attempt to cling to it," Rosila explained bitterly. "No. I reject such a fate. I shall not wait to watch my body shrivel away. I shall put an end to my aging on my own terms."

"You don't mean to..."

"But I do. Before the next moon...I shall grant the Sages a final goodbye. Then..." Rosila hesitated. "Then I shall retire to my chambers alone with a dagger."

Stunned, Vixin whirled upon her. "What maddeness is this? Surely you can't be serious..."

"Oh, I am. I intend to be remembered as the beauty I am now, not some old crone. The slaves shall see to my burial, as I'd have no one of worth looking upon me in such a state. When I say goodbye,

that

shall be their final memory of me."

Vixin looked away, utterly baffled. "Then what of Yisi? What of your daughters?"

Rosila waved dismissively. "Worry not for them, as I've already arranged their initiation into The Sages. They'll be well cared for, and best of all, they shall never face a similar dilemma. I've done that for them, at least, granting them the divine blood of The God Emperor," she nearly chuckled. "I suppose it's ironic, for I was a single generation short. There will come a time when none know the pain of aging, for all shall be descended from your family. I'm a dying breed, little Vixin, and so be it."

"How carelessly you throw them to our Order." Vixin felt a sudden surge of conviction, only for the feeling of a lump in her throat to reveal its source. "Girls need their mothers."

Rosila caressed the princess's chin. "I'm hardly a mother worth replacing. I've seen your disapproving glances at my handling of them. Harsh as I've been, they'll grow stronger than most. Still..." A rare hint of concern touched her expression. "You'll watch over them, won't you? As I've watched over you?"

Vixin opened her mouth to debate the point, though instead she nodded. "I'll...always do what I can for them. Blood matters, mistress, and I shall not abandon them as you seem committed to do with this folly."

Her relief couldn't be entirely masked, though Rosila attempted to smirk. "Good girl. I did the same for you, you know. I waited until I was absolutely certain you could survive without me. Such was my purpose, and now that you're pregnant with your true heir, I've received the final confirmation that my time has come."

"You're a fool." Vixin blinked, shocked as she felt a dampness in her eyes.

"Oh, don't pout. Do you not see the necessity?" Rosila tried to laugh as she grabbed Vixin's hands, pulling them to grab her breasts. "You'll always remember these as the firm orbs they are, rather than the sagging flesh they might have become."

Vixin fought back a smile, feeling her mistress's perky nipples against her palms. She pulled away when she found her willpower, folding her arms as she sulked.

Rosila didn't cease, instead placing her hands upon Vixin's hips. She traced her feminine curves with her fingers. "At least I may take comfort in knowing this flawless body shall never age. How divine you are...and what a privilege it has been to help you blossom, my sweet girl."

Something in Rosila's tone forced Vixin to clench her jaw. She fought against herself, only to feel tears trickle down her cheeks a moment later.

Pulling her close, Rosila embraced her with a masking smirk. "Don't mourn me quite yet, little Vixin. I'll still have one final lesson for you to endure."

"You're a fool...an utter fool..." Vixin muttered as her control faltered entirely. It mattered little if Fanir was watching, for she sobbed without restraint.

13th of Onis, 14 AVE.

Shai Domain, Between Nelzarshi and Zerdril.

The blizzard raged and Salik squinted with approval. The perfect mask for the coming bloodshed.

The Potentate's orders had reached him just before night claimed the palace. He'd have to act fast, as even though word of the failed assassination attempt hadn't yet arrived, there was no telling how long he'd have. Their caution would increase tenfold, and the very man Salik required access to was already locked beyond his reach.

Snow ripped past him in a flurry as he crouched silently, an unmoving statue peering down from a rooftop. He overlooked the small courtyard protecting the entrance, noting the positions of each guard by the flickering torches they held. They were beacons in the night, a mistake he'd be forced to punish.

Jidun may be locked away inside the protected wing of the palace with Sinshi, yet there were other ways to reach him. The vault, as the wing was called, held no windows nor known vulnerabilities. Salik could slay the guards at the reinforced door, though it'd be a simple thing for the occupants to lock it from inside. Only one true option remained. Salik would have to draw Jidun out.

Salik calmed himself with a breath, accepting a moment of peace that may be his last before moving into action. Sliding down the steep rooftop, he found his way to the ground before dashing towards his first victim. The light of the guard's torch drew him closer through the night blizzard, his dagger ready. It was at the man's throat an instant later, silently flicking a splash of dark purple upon the snow. An Arkos, the guard went limp as his torch fell, and Salik grabbed him by the front of his armor.

Two flickering torches talked in the center of the courtyard, complaining of the cold. Salik dragged the corpse through the snow, a figure approaching through the dark blizzard. Their conversation stopped the instant they spotted him, a masked specter with red eyes. He tossed the body at their feet.

Frozen, the pair of guards broke from their stunned state. One turned and ran, shouting as the other readied his sword. "Intruder! Murderer! Raise the alarm!"

Salik's own blades were in his hands before the guard's thin swords cut through the air. It was a simple thing to duck, swiping the Lanthian's feet from beneath him. The clattering of bells rang out above as he disappeared into the blizzard, watching as guards scurried into the courtyard.

Moving like a shadow through the snow, Salik's blades claimed a guard with a quick slash, then another, each time spilling purple and green blood.

"Over there!" a guard shouted from one side of the courtyard, only to be corrected by another on the opposite side. "No, there! I see h-"

A severed head rolled through the snow, men slashing at shadows in the night. Someone screamed. Another torch was extinguished.

The snow moved as swiftly as Salik. He spun, parrying a lucky blow before removing the arm of an Arkos. The palace seemed to come alive, light filling windows as panic began to spread. Guards poured outside as they sought their unseen attacker, attempting to illuminate the area.

With his advantage slowly fading, Salik dashed towards the courtyard walls. He passed close to several guards, luring them into a chase. He found his way up to the rooftops, hearing men shouting as they struggled to follow.

"Over here! He's up there!"

The slanted rooftop of the highest level of the palace fell away on either side, a slippery drop. Salik stepped onto the flat center beam, balancing as he waited. The guards hesitated, nearly losing their footing as the bravest pressed forward to meet him.

Their numerical advantage fell away, only able to challenge him in either direction. One from behind and one ahead approached, balancing as they walked down the center beam. Their blades came as one, an opponent for each of his own. Salik struck forwards, slashed backwards, parrying and dodging. His challengers were quickly replaced each time one fell, their bodies sliding down the steep roof. It was as if he were balancing upon a fallen log, enemies on either side.

Forward, back, spinning, Salik fought with deadly precision. There was no escape but a hard fall, yet it mattered little. His blades became his world, carving into the flesh of a Tazik, then a Lanthian. An Arkos scurried to meet him, only to slide and plummet to the ground below in a bleeding heap. A second Tazik challenged him, surprised when a simple misstep allowed Salik's blade to open his throat. The Tazik's deep blue blood poured forth before he fell, a contrast to his orange skin that Salik found to be beautiful.

He didn't hate these men. He didn't pity them. Their deaths were necessary to his mission, thus his blades danced with theirs. Archers attempted to fire upon him, only to hesitate when the blizzard proved to be too obscuring. He utilized his limited space to the fullest, rushing forward to drive his sword through the neck of an Arkos, before ducking and sweeping his leg to knock another behind him from his precarious perch.

Finally, he heard the shouts of his target down below. Jidun marched through the entrance, taking command over the catastrophe. No doubt Sinshi had ordered his favored assassin to regain order over the situation, just as Salik had intended.

Salik dropped after sheathing his swords, sliding down the roof to catch its edge. The wood strained beneath his grip as he stopped his fall, vanishing once more into the blizzard as he quickly descended. The guards that were struggling to reach the rooftops left the courtyard dark and minimally defended, and Jidun cried out as Salik rushed towards him through the ragging snow. An Arkos and a Tazik near him were quick to fall to Salik's blades before he sheathed them.