Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



They left the inn not long after but Damien had said the magical words to the mugged hero. "You're not the chosen one, Calen. You never were. You may have the power of a thousand suns but that doesn't mean anything when you are fighting the real chosen one. Remember, you are nothing compared to the power I possess. You came from nothing and you are nothing." He had said those words knowing full well the hero was conscious even though he was bleeding and gasping.

Damien and Luther galloped through the tough terrains of the Autumn Kingdom. the red leaves that danced with the rhythm of the winds, the early rising star that spread its light like hot butter being neatly spread across a perfect tost. He loved the vibe. The way the wind whispered through the trees and the scent of autumn filled the air. Damien couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as he rode alongside Luther, the horse's hooves thundering against the earth.

"The Autumn Kingdom, Luther," Damien exclaimed, a twinkle in his eyes. "Such a beautiful place, don't you think?"

Luther nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Indeed, sir. The vibrant colors and the crispness of the air, it's truly a sight to behold."

As they continued their journey, Damien's mind wandered back to the encounter with Calen. He knew his words had struck a nerve, and deep down, he hoped they would inspire a change in the mugged hero's perspective.

"You know, Luther," Damien mused, "sometimes, people need a reality check. They need to be reminded of their true place in the grand scheme of things. Calen may have had power, but he was blinded by his own arrogance. He needed to hear the truth."

Luther glanced at Damien, his brow furrowing with concern. "But sir, isn't it better to uplift others instead of tearing them down?"

Damien chuckled, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. "Oh, Luther, my dear friend, sometimes a little tough love can be the catalyst for growth. Calen needed to realize that power alone doesn't make him the chosen one. It's how he uses that power and treats others that truly matters."

They rode on, the wind tousling their hair and the scenery transforming with each passing mile.

They rode on; the wind tousling their hair and the scenery transforming with each passing mile.

"Ah, sir," Luther asked, his voice filled with excitement, "where are we going?"

Damien looked at his companion and smiled. "I want to see my father. We will travel to the tournament from there since it's only four days from today."

Luther's face lit up. "That's good. But you know, young master, why wouldn't you participate in the tournament?"

Damien laughed. "There are so many reasons, Luther, but the biggest reason is that I have better things to do. I don't have time to get embroiled in a competition. For what? Fame? Who wants that? Money? Why would I need more money? My life is already pretty luxurious."

"Glory!" Luther said, watching his young master with revered eyes. "Glory sir. Something that makes the people recognize you as a threat as well as a hero. You have the power to defeat Daemon, the rage without even trying. You outsmarted the young hero of the Autumn Kingdom. Some people who had the highest potential to win the tournament."

Damien smirked, relishing Luther's admiration. "Glory, you say? Ah, Luther, my dear friend, glory is an ephemeral thing. It fades as quickly as it comes. What use is being recognized as a threat or a hero when there are far more important matters at hand?"

He raised a finger, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. "And as for defeating Daemon, well, that was merely child's play. Outsmarting the young hero of the Autumn Kingdom? Please, Luther, it was like taking candy from a baby."

Luther's eyes widened in awe. "But sir, they were considered the strongest contenders!"

Damien waved off Luther's concern, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Strength and potential can only take you so far, my friend. The true power lies in strategy and intellect. And I happen to possess an abundance of both."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You see, Luther, participating in the tournament would be a waste of my genius. I have grander plans, secrets waiting to be unraveled, and a destiny that stretches far beyond the confines of a mere competition."

Luther nodded, his admiration undeterred. "I understand, sir. You have a greater purpose, a path yet to be revealed. I believe in your brilliance."

Damien patted Luther's shoulder, a playful glint in his eyes. "Ah, Luther, my loyal companion, you truly grasp the essence of my being. Together, we shall unravel mysteries, outwit our adversaries, and leave a lasting legacy that surpasses any tournament victory."

Bullshits. Such bullshits were spewing from the pervert's mouth without any shame or honor. But it was working. It was working the way it needed to work.

He glanced at Luther, his face was of pride. Pride that he's following someone with such vision and moral character. Damien had always been a charismatic and charming person. That was how he courted all those ladies out there. It was easy for him to convince others to do what he wanted, and even easier for him to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. And the real him was going to exploit that quality to his heart's content.

Luther looked at him innocently and smiled.

What a little fool he is. He's going to use him just like he's going to use all the others around him. He would make them do his bid and court all the ladies he wants to court but not at the cost of war.

Damien smiled back at his loyal companion and galloped forward. It was time to meet his father. It was time to court any other ladies there before going to the tournament.

***

They reached the borders of the Autumn Kingdom. Even though he can reach the island by going through the naval base of this kingdom, it would take time to be there. But by crossing through the Spring Kingdom and using its naval base, the time would be considerably less but if he were traveling in a wagon then, without any doubt, he would've visited the Autumn Kingdom's naval base. 

The same knights were there to greet them but this time they were all polite and had a friendly smile. Damien's lips curled up as he smiled back.

"Good day, sir," said a knight as he bowed to Damien. "How was your stay at the Kingdom?"

Damien shrugged. "It was a rather short visit but we had a pleasant time."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir."

Damien gave a quick nod and glanced at the carriage which looked strange and out of place among the rest of the carriages. "What is that?" His eyes trained on the wagon, trying to remember anything bizarre like this from the novel.

The knight gulped and warily looked at the wagon.

Then it hits him, everything apart from the knights was silent. There wasn't even the chirping of birds or crying of frogs, just plain silence like this was war roared ground.

The wagon looked like it was entirely made a few centuries ago. It wasn't iron or steel, it was made up of ancient wood. The color was a light brown with patches of green Moses sprouting here and there. The wheel was dirty and covered with mud. There were even some small grass patches sprouting from the back of the wagon. It was hella ugly.

And the horse, goddammit. It was pitifully old. High and mighty for an ancient one. Patches of dark and light adorned his skin. It was slow like a snail, enough to garner the attention of all the people around it.

The wagon smells like herbs and potions. It has been a long time since he had smelled something like that.

"That's the high lord from the forgotten lands. Don't you have heard about him, young master." The knight leaned in and whispered to him. His eyes were never on the wagon, it danced around the ground or the sky but never on the wagon.

"The last of the Vampire?" Damien asked with the same tone as the knight.

The knight nodded and gulped. "Only gods know what he's up to at this part of the kingdom?" he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Damien could feel Luther gulping, it was so silent that he can just hear it in the air. He could also feel something else and it was coming from the wagon. Like something was watching him. Someone powerful or something.

He doesn't like it, the feeling of being watched by someone he can't see. His breathing quickened and he quickly averted his eyes from the wagon like it was the most logical thing to do.

'What the fuck? Was the old man this powerful?'

He had heard about him from the stories. But the novel, at that point, never explored the forgotten lands. This man, Vladimir something was said to be the last Vampire lord of the forgotten lands. The most powerful and vile creatures live there. The cursed ones, the exiled ones, the dark ones, the murderers, molesters, and many others from different races and different kingdoms.

He was intrigued to see the old man but his sanity blocked him from even glancing at the wagon. something tells him the man could end him just with his eyes.