AO 6 Ch 13

King Martin was in his cellar, surrounded by the delightful scent of blood. It wrapped around him like a familiar blanket and filled him with strength. Unfortunately, not everyone enjoyed it as much as he did.

The man before him had his mouth open as if to scream, but his throat had run dry long ago. Instead, he thrashed on the table playfully, as if that would help his cause, but he was bound by three stone straps that held him fast.

Martin's hand was melded with the man's body at the flesh level while he exerted his life magic, altering the man on the table. It was far easier to work on a subject when you were a part of it.

"I'm going to have to take a break," Martin spoke to himself.

His hand slowly inched out as he pulled the flesh back together, remaking his hand where he had joined their flesh together.

Just a moment ago, three of the puppets that were lucky enough to have fragments of his soul stuffed inside their meager minds had gone dark. He blinked and reached out to them, trying to connect and see what had happened, only for the connection to dull into darkness. He couldn't actually see what was going on, nor feel it. The link was completely insensate, which only caused him to frown further because the connection was still there. 

"Well, that needs to be checked out," he muttered to himself, his hand now fully reconstructed and completely free of blood. He glanced over at the woman trying to make herself seem small in the corner. "Are they still convened in the war room?" he asked.

She nodded quickly, eager to answer him.

He liked eagerness. Those who were happy to do as he asked always seemed to work out better for him. Those that liked to push back and inject their own opinion, well, he glanced down at the table towards his last assistant. 

He had been toying with their body, trying to see if he couldn't make a serpent sphere mage. Somehow he seemed to be quickly running out of serpent sphere mages, which was going to be a problem. All these nobles fucked like rabbits, but couldn’t make enough for him. He needed to grow stronger, and that required devouring more mages.

Two new sharp teeth in his mouth, pricked his tongue and he tasted his own blood as a reminder of what had changed recently. His transformation had been complete now for some time, but he was still relishing in the change that had come over him every time his body reminded him of it.

But for now, he needed to figure out what had happened to three of his chancellors. They should not be outside his control unless they were dead in which case he should be able to feel it.

Martin stormed through the palace. The simple humans that occupied and kept it operating stood as still as stone as he marched through.

Martin had the strength and speed that went beyond even most anchors, not to mention access to the full suite of magic in a body now built to grow far beyond the confines of his previous mortal shell. When he reached the war room, he pushed the doors open, only for them to slam against the wall. He glanced at the doors, now cracked.

Someone would have to fix them, and perhaps they would need to make doors built for him rather than humans. 

He strode into the room to a group of nobles, all looking up at him with wide eyes. Oran was the undisputed leader of these remaining five noble houses. House Tolvian had served King Martin well. 

"Sir," he said, while others did a double take. 

"King Martin?" one asked, blinking.

"Do I look different?" Martin raised an eyebrow. The man was shorter than he remembered.

The noble paused, unsure what answer would be best.

"I made a few adjustments to make my outward appearance match my power and esteem.” King Martin replied with a smile, enjoying their reactions.

“Ah, your hair," Oran said quickly. "It makes you look quite different, does it now?" 

Martin ran his fingers through his now full head of hair, before running his thumb along his now chiseled jawline. "Well, I'm sorry if the change startled you. However I did not come here to present myself to you. What happened to the chancellors?" 

With those words, several stopped looking in his direction and quickly were fixated on the table in front of them.

“I am waiting. What happened to them?" He pressed.

“This same individual that killed your bride-to-be…” Oran struggled around a lump in his throat to speak.

"You were going to drive him into the Badlands, yes? That seemed like a suitable, aggressive approach." King Martin grew testy, waiting for his answer. He still stood in the doorway, with the remaining houses’ leadership all collected around a U-shaped desk.

"Well, you have to understand. He was chased into the Badlands, so we then set up a net to catch him if he escaped. The net triggered effectively, but we were unable to catch him before he fled back into the Badlands.” Oran hesitated, and a few of them looked back and forth.

King Martin tapped his foot, waiving for Oran to continue with his hand.

“Sir, we don't know.” Oran answered, unable to meet his eyes. “They followed the target back into the Badlands, and then all contact stopped." 

King Martin’s lips drop into a scowl. "Ah, I understand. You threw them away. How will you compensate me for the loss of those three chancellors? Not to mention, I assume there were multiple other mages involved in that net?" 

Oran swallowed. "Eight were mages, sir." 

King Martin closed his eyes and thought about the soul power he had just lost. He would need to speed up some of his other projects to regain that power when it came time to recover for the next harvest. He let out a heavy breath, the room flinching with the exhale.

"So you've lost more. Oran, we cannot continue these losses. You understand there will be payment required." King Martin smiled, showing off his fangs.

"Sir, there's no more noble houses to give you. You've wiped out the last of the mages. You've wiped out all of the lesser houses we've... We've even fed you our cadet houses." Oran paused, swallowing hard. "There's none left." 

King Martin's gaze swept over the crowd in front of him. "I see five whole and healthy noble houses before me. What do you mean there's nothing left? Do you intend to lie to me now?" 

Oran's eyes went wide with fear. "But sir, you can't. We've helped you this entire way." 

“Yes, and?” King Martin replied, annoyed that they would even consider themselves near his level.

Another spoke up. "We've helped you. We have... You can't do this to us," he stuttered. 

"I can, and I will. It should be expected. First, you came and you helped me find all of the unaffiliated, unattached anchors. And together, we raided their noble houses for all they were worth. I took the people, and you took their wealth. And I believe you have enjoyed that immensely up until now." He explained patiently.

“Yes, and we continue to support you." The man argued, shock showing on his face. 

King Martin cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Do you not believe in my goals? Do you not see the bigger vision?” King Martin sighed. “Of course you don’t. This is why you are failing, and I will have to take matters into my own hands. The small noble houses and medium-sized noble houses were not able to satisfy me. You can now lend your own power in order to contribute to a greater good.”

When the room remained silent, King Martin frowned. They were quite stupid. He never had any intention of stopping. The line would continue to move, and he would continue to grow. 

"You all fail to understand that it is your honor to join me, to let your souls become part of something better. I am no longer human. Do you understand? I will be eternal. You would all die anyway as frail humans. You may as well contribute to my power.” King Martin looked around the room, trying to decide where he would start.

"We won't stand for this," one of the others stood up.

Oran, however, shook his head quickly, as if trying to dissuade them.

King Martin took note of the action. Perhaps Oran deserved to live a little longer. But the one who had stood up had met the end of the line.

In a flash, Martin was on him, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the wall.

"It seems House Mauve has volunteered to be tribute," Martin glanced around the room again. "Are any of you going to stand up for him?"

"Please help," the man pleaded with everyone in the room.

But none of them moved, the heads of the most powerful noble houses bowed their heads and looked anywhere but here.

King Martin smiled at him. "Who's left to stand up for you?" King Martin looked around the room, glancing at the other four noble houses. "Will you?"

Oran shook his head. "He has made his bed, my lord. It is only fitting that he lies in it." The other three nodded.

"Good. Then House Mauve will be no more. Catch and deliver all of their mages for me. Oran, you've been a fantastic servant through all this. Don't worry, I will remember your loyalty." King Martin smiled.

Perhaps Oran could have a shrine when he had finished his purpose. Smaller than the statues of Martin, of course, because Oran would be nothing without his guidance.

The noble that King Martin had pinned against the wall squealed like a pig. "You will all be next." The man said, all eyes moving away from him.

King Martin glanced over at all of them ducking their heads and trying not to be seen. "There's no one left to help you. You've betrayed each and every person along the way. And did you think that once they were all gone, I would stop at you?" King Martin shook his head at the man's stupidity.

"My desire for more was not quenched with your cadet houses. It was not quenched with the peasants who happened to have a touch of magic. It was not quenched when each of you led unknowing chancellors straight into my grasp. So why would it be quenched before your time came?" Martin stared into the man’s eyes, the windows to the soul and only saw more sustenance for his metamorphosis and growth. Yes, enough and he’d become a god.

The man shivered and once again looked over everyone else, trying to find camaraderie where there was none.

"Do not fret," King Martin patted his cheek. "You may have blinded yourself to fear. But soon you will become something so much better. House Mauve has a decent number of serpent mages, doesn't it?" King Martin asked, licking his lips. "Yes, yes. I think that is just what I need to finish my latest experiments. Oran, when you finish collecting them, bring them to me. The basement, please."

Meanwhile, King Martin clenched his fist tighter around the head of House Mauve and dragged him off the wall. Even as the man tried to struggle, not even his anchor moved to save him as King Martin dragged him across the floor.

King Martin paused at the doorway.

"Oh, and this problem you are having that lost me three chancellors?" He glanced back at the room. "I expect it to be solved by the next time I visit this room." There was nothing more that needed to be said, they all understood.

"Of course, King," The men all quickly nodded in unison.

"Good. I'm glad we all understand each other. Now, don't disturb me. I have new experiments to conduct." They all froze with their heads down, while King Martin's newest experiment squirmed in his hands, gurgling as he failed to scream.

King Martin turned back to the man, holding him up as he walked. "Do not fret. Your sacrifice will be for a cause bigger than yourself."

"You're mad," he gasped.

King Martin could only shrug. "Just because your pathetic human mind cannot understand my goal does not make it unworthy. I expect you to change your tune soon."

While they were busy conducting war, King Martin was determined to perfect his experiments. His endgame was not merely to be a king of mortal men any longer. Perhaps that had been the start, but the more he learned the more he realized that the sky was ever high.

His ambitions soared higher with that realization. He intended to bend goddesses to his will. The mere noble houses had no right to obstruct him. In fact, no one did. 

One day, the masses would forget the noble houses. All that would remain in the history books would be King Martin's reign and his accomplishments. There might come a time when they would be harshly criticized, but in the end, as long as he held the power to shape his destiny, there was no need for nobles or others to govern his kingdom. He would simply wield the power and manage it with those who were left. 

To him, they were merely tools, stepping stones to reach the next level. Martin had observed the gods and their abilities. They made these noble mages look like children playing with sticks. Once Martin acquired the ability to feast on gods, he could travel anywhere he desired and declare himself the lord of all he surveyed. 

And so it would be. 

King Martin grinned at the thought, savoring it as he dragged the man kicking and screaming down to his cellar.

***

"I hope you understand that it was just part of building something. Young man, you put a hand on the new patriarch of the Mauve family, of the Mauve house. Your father, unfortunately, violated the law, but we won't let that stop us," King Martin said passionately.

"Instead, I would like the Mauve House, and particularly the talented men of the family," he gave the young, impressionable man a long, meaningful gaze, "to help with a problem we are suffering from. Not enough mages and anchors are being born in Garrish. This war is going to tear that small, yet essential, part of our society apart. What I need most from the Mauve family is more mages. This might help you gather more under your banner and will reward you all for the work that your father has done. Your task will be to restock the population."

Martin needed more serpent mages and decided at least a small portion for the Mauve house needed to be domesticated for breeding more.

The young man blinked incredulously, his gaze flitting back to King Martin. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

King Martin sighed, tired of having to be everybody’s brain. “Do I need to spell it out for you? As you know, as of how tight our war efforts have become, we've been using testing stones to sift through the population. I would like what remains of the Mauve household to help us sift through and find as many magically inclined anchors or mages within as possible. You should be able to figure it out from there?"

The young man had a smile flash across his face before he squashed the smile. "Of course, for you, King, there is nothing we wouldn't do for our King," he said, gaining his wit about him.

"Good," King Martin squeezed his shoulder and smiled as they walked atop the wall within the city that separated the royal quarters from the rest. As soon as they stepped out, there was a cacophony of noise beyond the wall. King Martin couldn't help but smile.

After this was all done, he would need more cattle to feed him.

"What are all these people?" The new Mauve patriarch asked, staring out over the crowd.

Peasants filled the street, shouting angrily, jeering each other on.

"They are those who still need guidance," King Martin gestured behind the new patriarch, where several men were carrying up crates of foodstuff courtesy of House Mauve's new reduced size.

"Numbers may be low, but there's always a way to win loyalty, even when they are so angry and so desperate.” King Martin gestured out at the crowd, not yet stepping up to the edge of the wall. "Would you like to see?"

The new patriarch swallowed but nodded vigorously. King Martin stepped up to the wall and opened his arms magnanimously. His eyes gazed down to a few select individuals amongst the crowd, ones that he recognized.

They immediately threw off their guise of being part of the protest only to start cheering for King Martin. They were still part of the rabble, even a cripple was amongst them, though he hadn’t been one before.

"All hail King Martin! All hail King Martin!" They tried to start up a cheer, only for others to boo them and try to drown them out.

King Martin ignored the jabs, taking one of the bags of seeds from the crate and tossing it down to one of those cheering. The effect was instantaneous. Those who had been booing him hesitated.

In that hesitation, a teenage boy, old enough to start to matter to the world at least in the near future, but not old enough to really understand the implication of his choice, joined the crowd cheering for King Martin.

His cheer was weak, unsure, but the King grinned down at him and picked up a loaf of bread to encourage him. The boy swallowed and more loudly cheered, "All hail King Martin!"

That was enough. King Martin threw the young man a loaf of bread.

What happened next was akin to water breaking from a dike. More swarmed forward, seeking their own reward, beginning to cheer for him, and even casting off their parents and friends who were trying to stop them. As they cheered, King Martin threw them more and more food until the hungry stomachs of everyone watching threatened to rebel.

Even those who had just moments ago tried to hold the first wave back stepped forward. They began speaking to those who had already received their share, seeming confused that the food had stopped. 

"'Rejoice! Those of you who believed in me have been rewarded. Those of you who only seek rewards will have to wait!'" King Martin declared. He smiled, not because he derived any joy from watching his people go hungry, but because he could see the internal struggle within the adults. They were torn between the need for food for themselves and their families, their moral principles, and their opposition to him. 

Ultimately, it was a losing battle. Humans would always choose survival and that meant the path of least resistance. Meanwhile, the younger generation looked up at him with hope. The few that did not have empty stomachs were the only ones who were able to hold onto their morals.

But ultimately, the cracks had already formed among them, which was all he needed. Eventually the war of his making would plunge everyone into desperation until they eagerly chanted his name for another loaf of bread.

A young boy spoke, his voice not quite loud enough to break through the crowd that was now cheering "Long live King Martin!" at the top of their lungs, hoping he would throw them more. 

"Do you see?" He turned back to the new patriarch. "At the end of the day, masses of humans are incredibly simple. In fact, they are far simpler than an individual. They follow rather rigid rules. As a patriarch, you need to understand this. You need to understand that we are working on that scale rather than any of your own personal goals. That is where your predecessor made his mistake. Now, your task will be to continue your family line with as much magic in it as possible. There may be individuals who stand against what you're trying to do. But know this, in the grand picture, you will go down as the patriarch who changed your family for the better." 

King Martin smiled, staring into the young man’s eyes. "Now don't disappoint me. There is still so much for me to do today, and I unfortunately cannot accompany you all day." 

"Of course, my King. You must have too many things to handle. I am sorry for what my grandfather did. I will take my leave and get started." The Mauve Patriarch replied a greedy smile on his face.

King Martin smiled, seeing the trace of hesitation as the boy said those words. But it didn't matter. He would comply, or he would be dealt with swiftly and another would find the same opportunity.

Eventually, everything would fall into place. It would just take time, and with his new immortality, King Martin had all the time in the world to calmly cultivate the best case scenario.