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Ichor: Blood Magic Sovereign

A primordial vampire wreaks havoc across modern day Asia. Beset by the catastrophe, Muchen has to sacrifice himself to save his family. In an attempt to reincarnate, the magus ends up lost in time, his soul stranded all the way back in 1410, amidst the brightest pyres of the Inquisition. (read more...) ~ A slumbering immortal awakes deep in the Himalayas, sowing lethal nightmares across the mortal realms. Millions perish throughout India and China in mere hours, even as national armies struggle fruitlessly to contain its hunger. Ancient paragons of magic descend from isolation, and shapeshifter beasts rise up to defend their tribal courts, all in vain. Werewolves and vampires put their eternal conflicts aside and unite, not in an effort to win — but to live. Muchen Feng is an old mage caught up in an aftershock of the creature’s awakening. Despite his best efforts, he fails to hold on to what he cherishes most. Unwilling to resign to his fate, Muchen seeks a path to the past, and tries to reincarnate. Born anew, he shall rewrite all wrongs and erase his regret at the source. Alas, his plan goes awry and the ritual is interrupted just as success is within reach. His soul is nearly torn asunder, and he forfeits control over his own fate. Adrift in time and on the brink of collapse, he finds refuge in the Dream realms, but that shelter is far from flawless. Unable to halt his soul’s decay, he resigns himself to chance. Centuries earlier, in the savage Maltese Archipelago, a sickly infant is abandoned at the Valetta port. Taking pity on the dying boy, a kind soul takes him to a monastery. That pity however is misplaced, for within that frail body linger the last embers of a drifter from the future.

RavenCorella · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
74 Chs

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As he was in the midst of his meditation, the door was opened and his first mate came in, staring oddly at the cross-legged teen.

Opening his eyes, Leonardo frowned.

"I told you to knock when you enter."

"AH, yes, yes… anyway, we're approaching Nantes. What do we do about the cargo? They'll ask to inspect it when we dock."

"Someone is expecting us at the docks, don't worry."

Continuing to frown at the man's disregard, he watched him leave but didn't reproach him further. It would take time to earn their loyalty, but he couldn't be bothered with it right now.

The cargo they were carrying was a crucial stockpile of Ichor Serum. Several crates of vials, amounting just over 2000 doses. It used up all of the Ichor he could find in Malta. He went after the riskiest of targets and let no vampires free, save for the one he captured. She 'donated' her share over the weeks too, though.

The vials contained 5ml of viscous red liquid, with streaks of golden flakes intertwining like a spiral around it. Frankly, it looked quite magical.

It was in fact magical. He used all of his medical expertise and alchemy to synthesize it. Using Ichor as the main ingredient, he combined it with a counteracting toxin plant he'd found on Malta, which he empowered with Vita spells, weakening the curse as a result.

Paired with the minimal dosage, he ensured targets would no longer turn into thralls. The temporary immortality properties were erased, as was the physical enhancement. What little Ichor lingered within was only enough to thwart the plague's curse and improve the immune system of a victim, ridding them of more common diseases.

In essence, the Ichor Serum was an all-cure miracle drug and he was off to peddle it like a traveling snake oil salesman. Only difference being that he'd probably hang if caught doing this openly and on a wide scale, and so he had to be discrete.

Not only was the church a potential risk, but so were the vampires. If they learned of a herb capable of weakening their blood and turning their curse into a cure, they'd go to the ends of the earth to destroy it. The last thing they needed was to be treated as a valuable resource by the nobles in the know.

In order to disguise the primary ingredients as best he could, he employed Acacia Farnesiana, a natural sweetener that would also eliminate the blood odor to a degree. Foxtail amaranth was added in to boost the immune system and give it enough nourishment. Lastly, a small amount of essence from crowned poppy served as the means to combat the addictive properties of Ichor.

The victims would remain mortal, and the Blood Geas wouldn't kick in, not that it mattered since the source was dead. It was as perfect as it could be. Only when he made significant improvements in his understanding of life and curses would he be able to improve upon it, but at that point it would be redundant. He could directly erase the plague himself on a wider scale, at most using alchemy as a means to trick the kismet.

After the ship crossed the strait, strangely dressed men would periodically disembark through the small boat. Donning black robes and plague doctor masks, they melded into the night. These people were naturally the Manus Umbra, the only ones Leonardo could trust.

As they crossed another fishing town, the ships slowed down again. Most of the crew was asleep, leaving only the essential sailors on board. They shot curious glances at Sana, who reminded the men in hushed voices as the boat descended.

"There's 32 patients in the town. Have them take the cure at dawn at the same time. Then, move on to the castle North of here. There's another 47 victims there. Once done, move further North and you'll reach a city inland. There should be 324 quarantined there.

"The nobles might have missed someone, so ask around if not everyone is accounted for. Make sure to act at dawn and try to coordinate the efforts as best you can."

The instructions were a mouthful, as most orphans never left Malta for the broader world. That said, their training was the best and they were taught critical thinking. Even if things went awry, they should be able to salvage their own lives at least.

The duke facilitated the cooperation of local nobles and administrators, so things should go without issue. Groups of 2 or 3 would deliver the cures, one vial per confirmed victim.

The cure was to be ingested at specific points in time, notably at dusk or dawn when the cure was weakest. In case their intervention drew the ire of the sorcerer, they had to spread out their efforts and muddy the waters as best they could.

Leonardo suspected it wasn't that easy to project his senses and trigger the plague from afar, otherwise everyone would have been dead already. Leo still broke in a cold sweat sometimes when he thought of the vicious presence he felt that night.

That said, perhaps it was this fear that made him irrationally bold. Having harbored a grudge for being burned, he dove into the fire with bravery and sought to save others, disregarding the ire of the sorcerer who's plans he would thwart.

As she returned to the ship, Sana looked on the other ship and nodded at Leonardo who observed the proceedings from afar. His voice was projected in her ear a moment later.

"This was the last target. Next, we dock in Naples. The duke of Citra assured us they gathered everyone showing symptoms. Prepare all of the remaining vials."

Coordination with the the local nobility was critical to their plan. Leonardo didn't have the manpower to scour for the victims, but he also didn't want to hand over the cure to strangers.

They'd surely try to reverse engineer it once they discovered its potency. It's precisely for that reason he had to downplay it, weakening its potency as much as he could while also bringing just enough doses to tend to critical patients. The fewer people knew of his heretic alchemy, the better.

That said, the nobles' reach wasn't perfect, either. Leonardo expected they would miss some people, so he used an ingenious ritual to find the victims. Since the plague worked on the basis of a curse, he used Fortuna to cast a wide net across Naples, pinpointing the rough location and number of infected.

He himself was afflicted with the curse at one point, so he was very familiar with its echo. It took him but a few hours to gain detailed information on each city and town across the shore.

As he suspected, most afflicted were the high class and children of the wealthy. Peasants had no business eating exotic imports, so they were spared. There were just over two thousand survivors, but they were critical to the country. Each one was a cog in the machine, and if too many gears broke, it would make them very vulnerable for attacks.

The Portuguese hatched a vicious plan, indeed. Decapitate the snake, then swoop in and take over a disgruntled peasant population, who would meet their saviors with cheers and applause.

The Duke realized the risks as well, and its precisely for that reason he lowered himself to coordinate with a mere merchant like Leonardo.