Chapter 68

"Humans!" Anmar spluttered in shock. Strickler, who had been a human far more recently wasn't as surprised; he had noticed the fondness his lord applied to the fragile mortals and how he spent significant time and effort to create a home for them here.

"They're fragile, short-lived things – delicious as a snack but hardly worthy of all this." Anmar indicated the grandeur they stood in, the wealth of the Chaos Dwarfs now theirs was in full display in the inner sanctums.

Anmar's disdainful tone echoed in the vast chamber, reverberating off the walls adorned with the spoils of countless battles. Gleaming weapons and ornate armour, plundered from fallen foes, adorned every surface, a testament to the might and ruthlessness of those who had come before.

"And yet," Strickler countered, his gaze sweeping over the amassed treasures with a hint of appreciation, "they possess a certain... resourcefulness. Their fleeting lives may seem inconsequential to the long-lived, but they are capable of surprising feats." He had trained as a mage of the Empire, seen some of the mightiest magic wielders, strongest grand knights and even the creations of engineers that seemed to progress every year.

Atlas nodded his head slightly as he agreed with Strickler. Humanity had carved out its own territory in a world filled with monsters – how? The combined might of a civilisation that could adapt and grow, combined with their ability to populate areas quickly gave them advantages that Atlas wanted.

Atlas was no fool. He knew much of what was in store for this world, Tides of Chaos, vermin, orc hordes and much, much more. He needed to create a kingdom to stand strong against all of these in centuries – not millennia. Humans were his best hope. 

Not responding to her outrage, Atlas calmly asked a question for the pair. "What is the source of our power?"

"Magic." Strickler responded quickly, knowing that even vampirism was a result of great spells and elixirs by demi-gods such as the first necromancer – Nagash, and Neferata whose efforts to recreate the immortality elixir resulted in the first vampires.

"Time." Anmar took longer to answer, however her response didn't surprise or impress Atlas. Vampires may not age like mortal races, nevertheless, age was a cruel mistress to all. The oldest vampires often showed signs of madness while others degraded into little more than wild beasts. Time was an enemy they all must face, and one only Gods could conquer.

 "Blood." Atlas gave them the answer. "It fuels our magic, our strength." Locking eyes with Strickler then Anmar. "Blood grants our immortality. Blood is life." His motto resonated with both, feeling the energy radiating from Atlas.

The battles and conflicts had spilt much blood that now was refined into elixirs that fed his power. Despite growing stronger, feeling his magic expand with his cultivation; he had made little progress in finding the threshold for Duke (the next stage of cultivation).

Atlas's next words were quiet, however the two vampires could still hear him clearly. "However blood is also our shackle. We are forever limited and reliant on harvesting blood from mortal races." Seeing questions in her eyes, Atlas continued. "A kingdom of mortals may not be what you had in mind, but blood will be at the core of its ideals."

"A Blood tax?" Strickler proposed, remembering reading about the practice in some dusty library in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Indeed. One not as ruthless as Sylviana, but where the citizens freely hand over blood regularly without adverse effects to their health. A perfect system if you will."

In Atlas mind, with the assistance of the AI chip, he had it all worked out. Cities and outposts would have a central building with an artefact not dissimilar to the Blood Caldron that would collect and store blood which could periodically be transported to Blood Throne to be transformed into the delectable blood wine or blood elixir.

He had already implemented it among many of the humans starting the new lives, grateful for the freedom, even at the price of a little blood deposited each week. Even the followers from the Empire, mercenaries and skilled craftsmen convinced by Atlas coin, were pleased, knowing that the more blood they gave, the less gold they would have to surrender in tax.

"So you have made the mortals your blood farm." Her voice was still not satisfied. "You think vampires from around the world don't have blood slaves?"

"You're missing the bigger picture." Atlas sighed. Perhaps it was best to show some of his cards, his Alliance with the Sisterhood needed to be maintained, at least for now. "The volume of blood will quickly exceed what we could consume, therefore I have found another use for it."

Reaching into robes, he pulled out a fresh parchment he had penned just that morning. With a majority human population, he had quickly realised that a mortal army would be needed. While he didn't have the logistics to field a living host at this time, he knew that it would take time to train one worthy of serving him.

The first step, trainers was solved by inducting the mercenaries that followed him to teach basic skills in weaponry and tactics. The next issue was cultivation, while enlisted soldiers often were only given the worst methods, preserving powerful legacies for the rich and noble elite who would quickly rise through the ranks.

Atlas had a different plan – merit over influence. He had the AI chip to synthesise the hundreds of cultivation methods he had collected, to create different paths that all from his kingdom could learn. The stronger his people, the stronger he was. His voice betrayed the excitement of his creation, as he explained the process to his two strongest generals.

Atlas had designed six distinct paths that were each accompanied by a brand new cultivation method that was specialised and optimised by the powerhouse – the AI Chip. How Atlas system would work, is that all can select the first two levels of the method for free, which would place them at a similar level as a beginner knight. However future levels would have to be accessed through merit or service.

The first was the paths, and the one which the majority of his army would use was that of the Blood Guard. They would be protectors, with cultivation supporting their combat ability and affinity for weapons. Additionally, they would be able to draw strength from other Blood Guards in battle formations that would make them lethal to enemies.

The second path was that of the Blood mage. Mages capable of wielding a variety of magic, however Atlas had managed to leverage blood to allow this order of mages to use magic previously restricted to vampires. While the gift was rare, Atlas already had plans to make sure all humans in his domain were screened for the spark of magic to cultivate their unique talents.

The final two combat paths were Hunters, skilled at ranged combat and agile to navigate difficult terrain, and Adventures. Adventures were different from other paths as their method was less specialised in terms of strength and agility, however instead increased their perception. There were many secrets, relics and treasures lost to bygone ages that those born with a thirst for discovery could uncover across the known world. In addition, as adventures would inevitably have to travel across many lands, they would form a significant network of intelligence.

While combat and the ability to slay his enemies were at the heart of many of his created paths, he also needed paths for those that supported the army in different ways.

Next was Harvester, which was surprisingly the hardest to synthesise, as it went against his nature, making him rely on many of the runes he had recorded on the ever-growing elf-artefact that he had used to send out continuous life-giving magic across his territory. Harvesters, who were attuned to the rhythms of nature, could harness the energies of Earth and Life to grow crops and other rarer resources.

The final path was an Artisan, who would with each level of progression be able to produce greater quality products. He foresaw many blacksmiths taking this up, but also others whose role wasn't combat-originated, such as cooks, scribes, merchants or even healers.

While Atlas knew he could have created regular paths for all of these professions, the element of blood would be lacking. Therefore, he managed to incorporate a new mechanism into the methods, one that would make their users more than mortals, while not quite taking them all the way to undead or vampirism. Instead, the blood that would be taken as a tax by all his subjects would be refined and used as a supplement to their training – using blood to accelerate their cultivation just as vampires did.

Furthermore, using runes, he was confident that the AI chip could design an enchantment that could ease the harvesting of blood, which when applied to his army's weapons would encourage them to go yonder in search of blood. A circle of power where each turn would make his army stronger, which would make their blood donations stronger, which would make Atlas stronger.

Taking time to digest these shocking revelations, the group watched the sunset past the horizon and plunge the Darklands into a blackness. Their shock was understandable, Atlas thought that such a clear and systematic system had never been used for cultivation. There were limits however; Atlas had scanned many methods and runes that were used to create the early stages of each path but it wasn't enough. The limitation was on his own knowledge, he would need to broaden his horizons if he ever wanted to develop later stages, which would be necessary to develop champions of his own.

Finally accepting Atlas's vision for the kingdom, Anmar nodded and gave a small curtsy in apology for the previous disrespect. Taking a look at the different cultivation methods recorded on the scroll, both vampires were in awe.

"What you have created is something that will shape this kingdom… perhaps even the effect will ripple out to all the known world." Giving his thanks for the compliment, Anmar continued. "However I am still concerned about the orcs."

She gestured towards a display case, where the gleaming axe of Gorbad Ironclaw rested, its blade still stained with the blood of countless victims. "Take this, for example," Anmar continued, her voice tinged with reverence. "The legendary weapon of Gorbad himself, a trophy of our victory over the Greenskins. Its power is undeniable, however uncountable more Greenskins live southward that will raid, pillage and stop your grand plans."

Atlas regarded the axe with a sceptical eye, his expression unreadable. Finally chipping in, Stickler interrupted "And what of our lord's plans for it?" he asked, his tone guarded, trying to conceal the desire to wield such a weapon himself.

Atlas stepped forward, his presence commanding attention as he joined them in front of the display case. His eyes flashed with a calculating gleam in their depths as his long pale fingers wrapped around the axe feeling its weight but also the enchantments that even resisted a Gods flames.

"It will remain with me," he declared, his voice low and resonant. "A symbol of our conquest, and a reminder of the strength we wield. With this weapon by my side, I shall lead our kingdom to even greater glory." While he preferred swords, it was large enough to be used as both a shield and a fierce weapon.

As he spoke, Atlas reached out to touch the axe, his fingers tracing the intricate runes carved into its surface. At that moment, the weight of its significance seemed to settle upon him, fueling his determination to carve out a legacy that would endure for ages to come.

"As you wish," Anmar tried to return the conversation back on track. "The threat of Greenskins remains, both those who look to our prosperity with greedy eyes, but also from within. We lured many tribes in, however in the vacuum left by the Dwarves, they will set roots down becoming a pest to all we do."

Strickler nodded. "Our army will be able to handle to remnants remaining inside the borders of the Darklands, however more will enter."

"So we just need a solution to keep them out." Thinking out loud to himself as he moved over to the strategy table where a map of the Darklands was carved out of stone, and they could show positions of armies with sculpted miniatures. "A wall would take too long to build, not to mention having to transport all that stone." Using his fingers to estimate the distance between the World Edge Mountains on the Western border and the fiery mountains that made up the Darklands Eastern Border.

Atlas went through several ideas, from traps to carnivorous forests, however all had unacceptable downsides. He needed a solution that his masses of skeletons could handle that would restrict or limit the passage of Greenskins.

As Strickler and Anmar watched silently, Atlas remained alone with his thoughts as he considered every option. With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility settled upon his shoulders, driving him to action. For in the Darklands, where power and peril walked hand in hand, there could be no room for hesitation.

"Perhaps…"