Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 339: Vampiric Toxin I

Chapter 339: Vampiric Toxin I

"How can you be so sure about that?" Atticus demanded, pulling himself to full height to loom over Nathaniel intimidatingly. "Vampirism hasn’t been seen in over decades, and that is even if the records of them are even true; how would you recognize this toxin?"

Instead of cowering like before, Prince Nathaniel stared evenly back at Atticus without flinching. When it came to healing and dubious substances, he had knowledge like none other royal.

A lifetime of stunted magical growth meant that he was always searching for a possible solution, and his status as Crown Prince meant that he could acquire all sorts of rare materials for his experiments.

"Because I created something like this before, when I was a child," Nathaniel said, much to the shock of everyone in the room.

"Were you trying to create an army of vampires?" Atticus asked, feeling reluctantly impressed. "I suppose that might help you invade other countries. I suggest you start with Reaweth. Get rid of all of her annoying siblings."

"Why do you sound so pleased? This is a disaster!" Sirona exclaimed, jabbing at her own king in the ribs. Atticus huffed petulantly in response. "Do you want us to be invaded by a vampire army?"

"It’s not like they would win. I bet I could defeat them easily. Come on, do you have so little faith in me?" Atticus complained.

Not to mention part of him did want the chance to fight an interesting opponent for once. Dragons were all well and good, but everyone knew they existed, no matter how rare they were.

Vampires, on the other hand, were more folklore and fiction, a convenient bedtime story to scare naughty children into behaving. There was nothing more terrifying than a soulless, mindless creature out for your blood.

"You’ve never even seen one, how can you be so sure?" Sirona retorted, this close to smacking Atticus in the face.

Now that Daphne was awake, it seemed that all the nonsense he had repressed in the past three days was finally flowing out.

"Maybe you’ll be squashed flat and they’ll suck you dry the same way these infernal bugs have been biting Jonah."

"Hey! Don’t drag me into this!" Jonah protested when both of them turned to look at him. He pointed at Prince Nathaniel. "Prince Nathaniel, explain yourself further!"

"You can’t tell me what to do," Nathaniel retorted peevishly, bristling at the order.

It was bad enough that Atticus treated Nathaniel like an unwilling extension of him, forced to exact his will. But Nathaniel would be damned if he let himself be ordered by what was, in the grand scheme of things, a tyrant king’s babysitter.

"Well I’m telling you to explain yourself," Atticus interjected warningly. "Or this strange concoction is going up your―"

A weak wheezing sound distracted them. They looked― it turns out that Daphne was laughing so hard she nearly bowed over.

"All of you are ridiculous. Can you let Prince Nathaniel finish speaking for once? What is this... vampirism to begin with? I don’t understand." Daphne shook her head, her long blonde hair glinting under the candlelight.

Atticus felt his heart ache at the sight.

To think he could have lost this for good, if not for that equally blond prince. Nathaniel had managed to diagnose the cause of magical backlash experienced by Daphne’s body, and create a cure to stabilize it. Technically, Atticus owed him a huge debt.

Of course, he would never let Nathaniel know. Luckily for him, Nathaniel was so torn up with guilt over his involvement in Daphne’s kidnapping that he never even mentioned any hint of repayment.

Atticus supposed he might as well let Nathaniel live with only minimal mocking.

He paused, considering. Nah, that was too difficult. He’d settle for occasional mocking.

"Sunshine, vampires are one of the darkest creatures to walk the land. They are more folklore than fact, but the stories claim that they drain the blood of their victims and they devour their flesh until bones are left. They are apparently very hard to kill."

"...How delightful," Daphne said faintly. "I’m sure Prince Nathaniel wouldn’t do this... right?"

This wasn’t his style of doing things. Jean Nott on the other hand...

"Thank you, Queen Daphne," Prince Nathaniel gave Daphne a reverent look, before giving Atticus a disparaging glance. "At least someone here has a modicum of sense."

Were Vramidians all dropped on their heads at birth as a ritual? There had to be something responsible for their collective idiocy.

Queen Daphne was a perfectly normal person, despite marrying the most unhinged royal of them all.

No one made a comment regarding the sudden change in title. Prince Nathaniel had always referred to Daphne as a princess, only ever a queen on the occasion. Perhaps he finally understood the difference in their status.

Atticus’s eyebrow still twitched. On second thought, relentless mocking was back on the menu. Before he could argue, Nathaniel continued.

"And of course I wasn’t building a vampire army." Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "You’ve heard the stories. Feeding them would be a logistical nightmare and would send my kingdom into the dark ages. Can you imagine finding enough flesh and blood to feed such creatures? It’s not as though they’d be satisfied with animals, and I won’t be sacrificing my citizens."

He scoffed and said, "Not to mention, how would I possibly control them? They might just feed on me instead. If I wanted an army, I’d simply introduce conscription."

"That sounds exactly like what someone who was trying to build a vampire army would say." Atticus crossed his arms. "If not, what were you doing with this?"

"I wasn’t― I created it by accident, you insufferable man," Prince Nathaniel seethed. "For heaven’s sake, if I was aiming to create a vampire army, I wouldn’t still be sitting here talking to you, would I?"

Nathaniel continued.

"I was trying to find a way to boost inherent magical potential, and there are fascinating theories about how liquid metals and cinnabar could strengthen magic by improving the body and mind’s sensitivity to magic―"

"Get to the point," Atticus barked out.

"Fine." Nathaniel took a deep breath to calm himself down. These people had no appreciation for the fine arts of medicine. It felt like he was preaching to a drove of pigs― not including Daphne, of course.

Nathaniel continued, "Long story short, I came up with a formula that included cinnabar and tree sap from the Temporal Elderwood tree, along with a variety of several crushed crystal fragments. I tested my formulas with barn mice, hoping that they would show some magical promise."

"What were you expecting them to do? Tap dance? Chase cats in return?" Atticus asked incredulously.

"What happened to them?" Daphne was the one that asked, but all four of them were listening with baited breath.

Nathaniel’s lips curled into a wan smile. If only the mice had done something as harmless as tap-dancing.

"Initially, nothing happened, so I left the mice alone in their container. However, after a day, half of them went rabid. Their eyes turned bloodshot, and they began to devour each other without any mercy. These mice, who have been raised together as a family, eagerly killed each other without mercy. Their food was untouched, the entire enclosure was soaked in blood."

A stunned silence met with his pronouncement.

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