Martial Arts Vs Magic - Chapter 146

Chapter 146: Blood Ties and Treaty Lies

The gothic garden behind the Obsidian mansion would have been beautiful if it hadn't been so deliberately morbid. 

Black roses with thorns that gleamed like freshly forged daggers lined paths of polished obsidian. Statues of anguished victims frozen mid-scream dotted the landscape. Yet somehow, with Nebula's hand in mine, even this monument to vampiric aesthetics felt oddly peaceful.

"Reminds me of our first walk," I said, brushing my thumb across her knuckles. "Back in the Romani garden, when you kept trying to pretend you weren't interested in me."

Nebula scoffed, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "I wasn't pretending. I genuinely thought you were insufferable."

"And now?"

"Now I know you're insufferable." She leaned against me, her silver-white hair catching the moonlight. "But apparently that's my type. I’m a girl with mental problems."

After Nebula’s mother invited us in, she asked for a bit of time from us, saying she had work to do. I had a guess at what that work was. She must be talking some sense into her younger brother before he could make any bad decisions later on. I didn’t mind delaying the political talk for later.

Vyrn suddenly materialized from my pendant, circling above us with obvious interest. The spectral owl hooted excitedly, diving toward a cluster of pale, ethereal bats that fluttered between the twisted trees.

"Look at him go," I mused. "Making friends already."

Solara, who’d been following behind us while humming, stopped suddenly. Her crimson wings retracted but still glowed faintly beneath her skin. She waved at us. "I'm going to follow that silly bird before he gets eaten by something." Her emerald eyes flickered meaningfully between Nebula and me. "Take your time. We've got council stuff to discuss later."

As she darted away, Nebula gave me a knowing look. "She's being subtle."

"For Solara? That was practically invisible."

“You know, I haven’t had a proper talk with her about you but… maybe she’s not that bad. She’s cute.” Nebula said. 

The tension that had been coiled between us since our reunion finally unwound. We found a stone bench beneath a weeping willow whose leaves looked questioningly like strands of silver hair. I couldn't tell if it was natural or some vampiric enchantment. Probably best not to ask.

"You look like you’ve adjusted here," I said, studying her. The Nebula I'd left in Merasca had been strong but uncertain, still struggling with her nature. This woman carried herself with the confidence of someone who'd finally made peace with her blood.

"Getting your nature revealed in front of a whole city full of people, followed by three months in the heart of vampire society? Yes, it will do that." She shifted to face me, one leg tucked beneath her. "Mother was... surprisingly patient with me. When I first arrived, I wanted nothing to do with any of this." She gestured at the mansion behind us. "But she didn't push. She just waited. It reminded me that although this woman was ruthless, even though she was someone who’d hidden her vampiric nature from me since childhood, she was still the same woman who’d cared for me when I was a toddler."

"The predator's patience."

"Yes, but not how you think." Nebula's fingers traced abstract patterns on the stone between us. "She taught me things without any schemes, Iskandaar. Blood magic techniques reserved for true Obsidians. Family history that goes back millennia. She's... not what I expected."

"How so?"

"She's ruthless, yes, but there's more." Nebula's voice softened. "She still mourns separating from my father, though she'd never admit it. Some nights I hear her talking to his portrait when she thinks no one's listening."

I raised an eyebrow. "Your terrifying vampire queen mother has a sentimental streak?"

"Don't let her hear you say that. She'd drain you dry just to prove you wrong." Nebula's attempt at humor didn't quite mask the emotion in her voice. "Iskandaar... when I heard about Aethelgard's destruction... when word reached us that you'd challenged an Arcane King..."

Her voice cracked, and I reached for her hand.

"I thought you were dead." The admission seemed torn from her. "Hah. Merasca was one thing, you somehow defeated that Outer God by teaming up with those powerhouses, but this? Challenging Sahrazzakhan himself? I didn't know if I should hate you for leaving me behind or thank you for sparing me from whatever happened there. Sometimes I regret having not drunk your blood dry the first time I did it."

"Nebula…"

"Stay quiet." She pulled her hand away, composing herself. "Every day, I'd ask Mother's spies for news. Every day, nothing. Just whispers that the Golden City had fallen, that the Dragon King hunted for the boy who stole his daughter." Her eyes, usually so controlled, shimmered with unshed tears. "Do you have any idea what that was like?"

I hadn't considered it too deeply. I'd been so focused on building Nevaramis, on finding the remaining pieces of my cult, that I'd pushed thoughts of Nebula to the back of my mind. Not because I didn't care, but because caring too much would have paralyzed me.

"I'm sorry," I said, the words inadequate but necessary. "Truly. Things were so cloudy back then. After Merasca, everything happened so fast. I’d lost my powers, Solara was injured, and we needed to hide. Amelia sacrificed everything to help me. She returned to her people, who wanted her to marry a Silver Dragon Prince. I couldn’t just sit still. So ultimately, when Nevaramis brought me solutions and I healed thanks to the android’s help, I immediately left to get Amelia and Solara back from Sahrazzakhan’s clutches."

"The floating city." Nebula's expression softened slightly. "The one we fought for."

"It's different now." I couldn't keep the pride from my voice. "It's more than a hideout, Nebula. It's a sanctuary. A place where bloodlines and ancient hatreds mean nothing. Where Amelia, a Gold Dragon, sits beside Lailah, a Leviathan, at the same council table."

Her eyes widened. "So you finally are building your cult."

"Something more than that." I took her hands again, and this time she didn't pull away. "But I need you by my side to figure out what exactly… Won't you come? Take your place on the council?"

There was no hesitation in her smile. "Of course, my baby," she agreed, leaning in to brush her lips against mine. We tumbled back onto the grass, surrounded by dark flowers that seemed to sigh as we disturbed them. "Although I'm not sure if Mother will let me leave just yet."

"Speaking of your mother..." I began, but Nebula pressed a finger to my lips.

"Be careful, Iskandaar," she warned, suddenly serious. "Mother has been calculating since your arrival. She views you as both threat and opportunity. You killed her father, but you saved her daughter. Her thoughts toward you are complicated." Her eyes searched mine. "She plays a longer game than you might think."

I held back a smirk. Long games were becoming my specialty.

Our moment was interrupted by a servant materializing from the shadows, his movements so fluid he seemed to glide rather than walk. "Sorry to interrupt, Lady Nebula. The Matriarch requests both of your presence in the Blood Council chamber," he announced, bowing low.

As we rose to follow, Nebula's grip on my hand tightened. "Remember what I said."

I squeezed back reassuringly. "Everything will be alright." The game was about to begin. Unlike what Nebula thought, her mother wasn’t the one playing Chess here.

****

The Blood Council chamber lived up to its name in the most literal sense. The walls weren't just painted red, they were coated in what could only be actual blood, preserved through some vampiric magic to remain eternally fresh. The effect was both disturbing and impressive, which seemed to be the Obsidian aesthetic in a nutshell.

A massive table of polished black stone dominated the room, its surface so reflective I could see my face staring back at me. Blue-flamed chandeliers cast an eerie light that danced across the gathering of pale faces.

Munera sat at the head of the table, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. Val loomed behind her like a shadow given form, his hand resting on the back of her chair in a gesture that seemed both protective and possessive.

Several other vampires filled the remaining seats, their status markers floating above their heads identifying them as Obsidians, though their auras suggested they weren't true-blooded. Probably lesser vampires forcibly adopted into the clan, as had been Munera’s plan for the last two years. They weren’t weak, though. 7th Ascension.

Solara had already taken up position against a wall, arms crossed, wings retracted but clearly ready. Her eyes met mine, and she gave a subtle nod. All clear, for now.

"I still suffer from disbelief that my son-in-law is the Sovereign of the Nevaramis, the city of legends." Munera's voice carried the weight of centuries, cold unlike her warm smile. "You've done us the courtesy of a personal visit. I assume this is more than a reunion with my daughter."

I took the seat directly opposite her, matching her formality. "Indeed. I come with a proposition that benefits us both."

"How fascinating." Her smile didn't reach her eyes now. "Do elaborate."

"First, allow me to talk about my city. Nevaramis isn't just that, it's not a floating city, it's a concept." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. "A sanctuary for powerful, marginalized groups. A fortress beyond the reach of empires and holy knights."

"And who, precisely, comprises this... sanctuary?" Munera's question was casual, but her eyes were sharp.

"Currently? The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult forms its core. The Leviathan Cult has pledged their allegiance. Yes, as has its leader, Zarielle Leviathan." I paused, watching her reaction carefully. "And soon, the Wolves of the Red Moon will join us as well."

The reaction was immediate. Val's face contorted with rage, and several of the lesser vampires hissed in shock. Munera's expression remained unchanged, but I caught the slight tightening of her fingers on the armrest.

"The Lunewolves… Forgive me if I’m reading the room wrong, but you are saying all this to invite us to Nevaramis, correct? How bold.” Munera muttered.

“Unacceptable! You would bring our ancient enemies to your city and then invite us to join them?" Val snarled, taking a step forward.

Munera silenced him with a look so cold it could have frozen blood in veins. She turned back to me, studying my face as if searching for the lie.

"A bold strategy," she said finally. "As well as a foolish one."

"Neither. It's pragmatic." I gestured around the room. "Look at what remains of the Obsidian Clan. Look at what remains of the Lunewolves. Ancient feuds make for a satisfying tradition, but they have poor survival rates. Lady Zarielle has a daughter, Lailah Leviathan, who’s her cult’s Saintess. The last true blood leviathan, as well as the only Devil in this mortal plane, to my knowledge. Would you be surprised to hear that Amelia Duskleaf, the Princess of the Gold Dragons, shares a close friendship with her?"

A short silence passed as Munera and Val exchanged glances. A moment later, she turned back to me. "Putting aside ancient feuds which you shouldn’t worry about, it's hilarious that you’re giving us such an invitation. During your brief stay here, do you think our current city is not sufficiently defensive?”

“It’s not too bad.”

“And it’ll be better as months grow into years. On the other hand, you've made powerful enemies, Sovereign," Munera countered, deflecting my point. "The Arcane Kings do not forgive, and the Church of Light has declared you anathema. For how long do you think Nevaramis will be under your control? What protection can you truly offer?"

"The same protection that allowed me to walk away from Aethelgard's destruction," I replied calmly, eyes locked with her. "The same power that let me banish an Outer God. And…” I knew I was crazy for saying this, but I couldn’t hold back. "The same strength that allowed me to slay the Vampiric Father.”

Blood aura exploded from both Munera and Val, and if glares could kill, I’d already be dead a dozen times over. Solara’s Yang Qi exploded from the side, radiating like a sun as she walked to stand behind me. I gently picked up the cup of blood-tea resting before me, taking a sip. Nebule sighed beside me, face palming. 

No fight broke out.

Everyone retracted their aura, even as Val continued glaring at me, as a heavy silence fell over the room. I'd reminded them, not subtly but effectively, who I truly was and what sort of danger I posed to them if I was challenged.

In this entire world, who else but me could provide my Nebula protection? Her family should be glad and happy I was considering them too as an extension of her.

"I don't see any point in this conversation, sister," Val finally exploded, his composure shattering. "We should drain him dry for what he did to our kin! Even daring to insult us…! Why are we negotiating like merchants?!"

Munera's patience visibly snapped. She slammed her palm on the table, the impact cracking the stone surface. "Enough, Val! Do not test my patience.”

“....”

“You've given the seat of Matriarch to me, so let me decide these things." Her voice was low but carried the weight of command. "Your grief blinds you to reality. Our clan teeters on extinction's edge. Three purebloods remain, where once we numbered in the hundreds. We need allies, not more enemies." She then added, “And is he wrong? He did kill our father. He banished an Outer God, and then he humiliated Sahrazzakhan. Can the two of us combined do any of those feats?

Her praising words hung in the air, as well as the deeper reality. Three purebloods. That's all that remained of the once-mighty Obsidian Clan. Munera, Val, and Velora. Among them, the one with the most potential, Nebula, was a half-breed. No wonder they were desperate enough to entertain my proposal.

Munera's gaze swept the room, lingering on each vampire in turn. "Leave us," she commanded. "All but family."

The lesser vampires filed out silently, their reluctance obvious but their obedience absolute. When the doors closed behind them, only five of us remained: Munera, Val, Nebula, Solara, and myself.

"Now," Munera said, her voice softer but no less dangerous, "let us speak plainly."

****

I wasn’t used to this. Hours passed as we circled each other with words, probing for weaknesses, testing boundaries. The lesser vampires had long since been dismissed, allowing for more candid discussion. Val remained, despite his outburst, though he'd retreated to a corner where he watched with barely contained hostility.

Finally, Munera addressed what I'd been waiting for.

"The Lunewolf Tribe," she said, her fingers steepled before her. "You truly intend to bring them to Nevaramis?"

"Vargathrian has pledged her support," I confirmed. "It's only a matter of time before they arrive."

"And yet they haven't," Munera observed, her eyes gleaming with sudden understanding. "Which creates an... interesting situation."

I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a confidential tone. "It presents an opportunity for the Obsidian Clan, I agree." I outlined my proposal with careful precision. "Arrive first, establish yourselves before your rivals. Secure the most advantageous position, the most favorable terms."

"Territory selection," Munera mused. "Council representation."

"Priority in both," I agreed. "First come, first served, as they say."

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Do you truly love my daughter more than that wolf maid of yours? I feel flattered."

The question caught me off guard, but I recovered quickly. "This isn't about personal preference. It's about balance of power."

"Is it?" She tilted her head, studying me. "Fair, I suppose. This is because you know we need this more than they do. The Lunewolves have a demigod protecting them. What do we have but our wits and our pride?"

Damn, she was perceptive. It wasn't that I favored Nebula over Lilian; Amelia was right about her words that either of these two girls might murder me in my sleep if shown too much favoritism to the other. I loved them both differently but equally. 

Munera was right that the power imbalance concerned me. 

The Lunewolves, with Vargathrian at their head, would dominate any conflict with the weakened Obsidians. That wasn't the balanced sanctuary I envisioned. And I didn’t want Nebula to hate Lilian if Vargathrian bullied these vampires.

"On that topic, I face a challenge," I said, redirecting the conversation. "Finding the Lunewolves has proven difficult so far. They've gone into hiding since Lockdarn, and although I’ve met Vargathrian before, it was far from their current base, if they even have any."

Munera's eyes narrowed with sudden understanding. "And you believe we might know where they are."

"Who better?" I smiled. "You've hunted them for centuries. You've tracked their movements, studied their patterns."

"You want us to help you bring our enemies to your door?" Val's incredulous voice broke the silence. "Are you mad or merely stupid?"

"Neither, Uncle-in-law," I replied. "I'm pragmatic. The Lunewolves will come to Nevaramis eventually. That is inevitable. But if you help facilitate this, if you are instrumental in forging this alliance, it reframes everything." I gestured expansively. "You're no longer ancient enemies; you're pragmatic neighbors who chose cooperation over continued bloodshed."

"A pretty story," Val scoffed. "But centuries of hatred don't vanish with a handshake."

"They don't have to," I countered. "They just have to be set aside long enough for both your people to remember what it's like not to live in constant fear of extinction."

Munera had gone silent, her expression contemplative as she followed the elegant trap I'd constructed. If she refused, the Lunewolves would still come to Nevaramis, but the Obsidians would lose their chance for prime position. If she agreed, she gained not only territorial advantage but a degree of control over how her enemies integrated into this new power structure.

Wasn’t the choice simple?

"I believe I can reach Ralian Lunewolf," she said finally. My mother-in-law did not disappoint my faith in her. "We have... channels that remain open thanks to our short alliance back in Merasca."

Val's face contorted with fresh outrage. "Sister, you cannot seriously be considering this!"

"The old ways brought us to the brink of extinction, brother," Munera cut him off. "Perhaps it's time for new strategies."

They shared a glare. Something passed between them, a telepathic conversation, perhaps, or simply the silent communication of siblings who'd shared centuries. After a moment, Val closed his eyes and sighed before walking out of the chamber without another word.

"You sure everything will be alright?" I asked. "What if your brother regrets making you matriarch?"

"He won't." Munera's voice softened slightly. "But please try to understand. He lost his son to you. If I'd lost Nebula in the same way, I too would have been consumed by vengeance."

She rose, her movement so fluid it was like watching water flow uphill. "The Obsidian Clan will join your Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, Sovereign Romani. And yes, I will help you bring the wolves to your door, on the condition that we establish our territory first."

I stood as well, extending my hand across the table. "Then we have an agreement."

Her hand, cold as winter midnight, clasped mine. "We do, Heavenly Demon."

I was loving the recent development. At this speed, I might be able to replicate the true Heavenly Demon Cult’s power from the Murim in a few more years. 

As we left the chamber, Solara fell into step beside me, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Won't this make Lilian mad? You’re giving Nebula’s people the first bite of the cake."

I watched Munera's retreating form, Nebula at her side, their silver hair nearly identical in the blue light. "Not all of it. This works for all of us. Lilian has her 9th Ascension grandma; Nebula doesn't have her 9th Ascension grandpa. The least I can do to even things out is to give the Obsidians the first choice."

My eyes lingered on Nebula, the way she carried herself with newfound confidence, the unmistakable resemblance to her mother in her grace and poise. "Plus, I knew my dear mother-in-law would choose survival over vengeance."

"Family has a way of changing priorities," I mused, remembering my own grandfather's defense of me against Sahrazzakhan. "Even for immortals."

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