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.
***
50th of Fonic, 14 AVE.
Shai Domain, City of Shai.
"This is unwise, my Potentate," Salik said in a near whisper.
They stood in a corridor outside The Citadel's dining room as they prepared to face their guests. Varse pushed aside a painting to peer through a hidden peephole. "So it is."
Inside waited twenty-eight men, each a member of Sinshi's cabal. Several paced impatiently while others sat quietly at the dining table. Arkos, Lanthians, Taziks. Jidun sat among them as the sole Dril in the heart of his species' homeland, tapping his finger with a grimace of concern. His wounds had healed enough to conceal his secret, leaving his face marked with deep scars.
"Wait here, boy. You'll know when to join me," Varse commanded as he replaced the painting. He ignored the protest in Salik's piercing red eyes as he turned towards the door. It was time to step into a pit of serpents, emerging victorious or not at all.
Every man stood as he entered, bowing their heads with respect as they gave a customary "My Potentate," in unison. They watched him closely, no doubt ready to drop their act of servitude at a moment's notice.
"Please, gentlemen. Take a seat." Varse gestured before finding his own at the head of the long table, placing himself across from Jidun. The Dril refused to meet his eyes.
They joined him at the table, each finding a chalice waiting. Twenty-eight pairs of eyes watched him. Twenty-eight remaining men who had participated in his attempted assassinations. He allowed the tension in the room to sharpen, as if forging a blade that may cut their throats.
Varse watched them regard their surroundings with subtly masked suspicion. "I shall cut directly to the heart of why you've been summoned. A rumor has reached my ear. A rumor that pains me greatly, for it appears that a man among us may have participated in the attempts on my life."
He watched their trained expressions shift, each anticipating danger. Several glanced at Jidun, though their ringleader remained motionless.
"I offer no accusations, gentlemen." Varse withheld his disgust as he studied each of them in turn. "This matter shall be investigated, though I hope to discover no truth to such a vile rumor. Still..."
As their Potentate gestured to the chalice before him, many peeked at their own. A black liquid waited at the bottom, hardly filling a third of each cup.
"When you accepted the duty of serving the aims of The Domain, you each drank a portion of Dril blood, binding you to our people. As agents of Shai, you've sworn to-"
"We know our vows, my Potentate," one of the men interrupted, an Arkos.
Jidun shot the Arkos a deadly glance. "You'll keep your damn mouth shut."
Varse hid his annoyance. Let them believe they held a sliver of control in this chamber. Let them believe they could openly disrespect him. It would matter little. "As I was saying, our guiding philosophy is quite simple. We wish to be left alone, free of the danger and influence of outsiders. To succeed in this, we must weaken and manipulate outside realms until they pose no true threat to The Domain. Infighting shall only serve to poison us. Treachery shall see us destroyed before our enemies lay a single step within our lands."
They all appeared to listen, yet Varse knew they only awaited a signal from their true leader. It'd be quite clumsy to openly assassinate a Potentate within the heart of The Domain itself. Disastrous, even. Only their hesitation spared his life, maintained by Jidun's silence.
"Unity among us must be assured, and in light of these rumors, I shall require you all once more to reseal your vow." Varse picked up his chalice carefully. "We'll drink as brothers and taste the blood of those you've sworn to serve. Let us put aside these disgusting whispers."
He watched them look to Jidun in both amusement and caution. Let them judge him a fool. Let them believe he was either naive enough to trust their loyalty, or desperate to escape his doom. They thought him to be prey in a room full of predators, when only one true predator sat before them.
Jidun played his part, beckoning the blue pintila worm in the center of the table towards him. The poison-sensing creature slithered into his hand, opening its circular mouth. He frowned at Varse. "No offense, my Potentate."
"By all means, I'll do the same," he said, watching Jidun drip several drops of the black blood from his chalice into the worm's mouth. They waited a moment, seeing the creature's blue skin remain unblemished. No poison.
The rest of the room watched as Varse took his turn, testing his drink. As planned, no poison tainted the liquid. Jidun raised his chalice to his lips, only to scowl at his men. "Well? You heard him. Drink!"
They held the advantage, and as they watched their leader drink without fear, they slowly began to join in at his command.
Varse consumed the black blood before allowing his stern expression to harden further. He waited, merely watching them finish. Only when the first cough echoed quietly through the chamber did he break his silence. "The truth is, I love this land. We hold a unique freedom that has never existed outside our borders. It's a tranquility worth defending, and I'd gladly give my life to do just that."
Another coughed, louder now. Then another, drawing the attention of the others as they found their own throats beginning to warm. The last two men to drink spit out the blood, their hesitation having spared them. They hurried to their feet. A Lanthian and a Tazik, the orange skinned of the two stabbed a finger in Varse's direction as he readied his blade. "Scheming worm!"
Gripping their throats, all other men began to writhe, many falling to the floor. Varse watched the scene in disgust. "Let them choke on broken vows."
"You were a fool to trust him, Jidun! A damned fool!" the remaining Lanthian accused, preparing to leap across the table to slay their Potentate. The door behind him whipped open as Salik burst into the room, driving his blade through the green man's back.
The Tazik raised his blade in defense. An upward swing of Salik's curved sword cleaved his hands from his wrists. Frozen in shock, the horned assassin remained wordless as Salik grabbed the back of his head, slamming it down hard into the stone table with an audible crunch.
"Hold! I did my par-" Jidun held out his hands to protect himself as Salik silently approached, gritting his teeth in pain as he was ripped from his chair. The masked man dragged him across the length of the table, knocking over chalices until he was delivered upon his back to The Potentate. "Y...you vowed to spare me, damn you!"
Salik folded his arms, towering above him. "Your death shall not come by my hand."
Remaining seated, Varse took a moment to hear the struggling men slowly fall silent one by one. Every death fell upon his shoulders, a necessity he endured with a grimace. "Duty requires me to end your life, hybrid. Your existence threatens my people, yet your death may remove a valuable asset that may prevent a greater danger. I shall ask this only once. If I spare your life, do you vow to speak of your involvement with Sinshi to The Council upon my command?"
Hesitating, Jidun finally nodded. "Fine, fine. I'll tell them everything. Just-"
"Only upon my command. The threat of such a thing shall either tame Sinshi or damn us both."
Perplexed, Jidun attempted to rise before Salik forced him again onto his back.
The smell of rot began to trickle from the mouths of the bodies scattered throughout the room, the skin of their throats turning black. Varse scowled, doing his best to avoid seeing their faces. "These men shall be replaced with beings of my own choosing, and you shall be relieved of your command. Dril will protect Dril once more." He nodded to Salik. "Bring him to the cells beneath The Citadel."
The masked assassin obeyed, dragging Jidun away. Within moments Varse was alone, faced with a chamber of bodies. How easy it would have been to simply let them slay him; one body traded for twenty-seven others. He would have found peace, perhaps, yet his life was all that remained to defend his people from catastrophe. He'd cling to it a little longer.
41st of Fixuin, 14 AVE.
Kingdom of Harin, Near Littlexia.
Cendra's sword carved through the air as she twirled, its sharp edge digging deep into the trunk of a palm tree. She yanked it free, spinning away as she practiced her form.
Two miles from the legion encampment besieging Littlexia, she bit her lip in frustration as her movements were a fraction of a second delayed. It was her pregnancy, she knew, her belly already noticeable to any who looked upon her. She had kept to herself, of course, almost able to convince herself that she wasn't hiding away in embarrassment. When their ships had left Talin behind, she had locked herself within her cabin. While Irith's knowledge of Wirmri allowed the legion to take the city efficiently, she had camped within the wilderness. Humiliating as it was to miss the glory of battle, the alternative was much worse.
A flame erupted up the blade of her sword as she felt a spike of anger, cleaving through the thin trunk of a second tree. It burned as it collapsed to the reddish sand of the beach, its dark blue leaves splashing into the water.
"Faster, worthless fool..." she told herself, marking her next wooden opponent as her blade danced. Another tree fell, and for the hundredth time that morning, her thoughts wandered to the new life she sensed within her womb.
A grimace of regret tugged at her lips. The creature within her was at once a reminder of her father's love and a betrayal to Clin. It'd shame him, shame
her
, yet hadn't she decided to love both men equally? Did her vow to bear only Clin's child no longer stand when he himself offered to raise her bastard? Even the very concept of a bastard was slowly being stripped away by The Empire, yet still she clung to her pride.
Sword blazing, she leapt into a backflip before striking a tree as she landed, her movements ever so slightly losing elegance. Her mind fell to the root of her reasoning, remembering Vixin with a flare of rage. Vixin had slept with their father, the first to claim his love. Cendra would not fall to such a level, or so she had thought long ago. Vixin had given birth to a non-royal. Cendra would not, until now. Vixin had birthed their father's baby. Cendra had held against the final bastion of her pride...only to fall. For the first time, she allowed herself to acknowledge that she had followed in her sister's footsteps almost entirely.
Her breath quickened, not slowing even as she came to a stop. Her rage slipped from her grasp, revealing what lay beneath as she looked to her trembling hand with utter shook. Was she...afraid? Her breaths continued, mind racing. She was the firstborn, The God Emperor's pride. She held a duty to be better, to show what an imperial princess should be. Yet in all her pride, she was no better than the daughter of the woman that had killed her mother. She was
