Speaking of which, this burial ground has long been a thorn in the side of the Castanin family. Before it was excavated, the endless stream of graves within their domain provided the family with a steady supply of soldiers. This ensured the Castanins' strength and allowed them to firmly hold their seat as the foremost noble house in Sylvania.
Yet, as the saying goes, when water fills to the brim, it overflows; when the moon is full, it begins to wane. When the vast majority of these burial grounds were exhausted, the Castane family's troubles began. The depleted graveyards were unsuitable for cultivation and could no longer yield anything. Thus, sufficient food could not be supplied. Without enough food, there could be no sufficient population; without sufficient population, there could be no sufficient corpses; without sufficient corpses, there could be no sufficient undead soldiers... This made the Castane family's development extremely difficult, and their fortunes gradually declined.
Consequently, the Counts of Castanein in recent generations have all prioritized managing the burial grounds within their domain as the family's foremost duty. After centuries of governance, filling graves and reclaiming farmland, the Castanein family's situation improved slightly. Yet compared to the other three top vampire clans, they still appeared somewhat weaker.
Here, we must also acknowledge the friendly solidarity within the vampire community. Had this been human society, the fate of such a declining house would be all too predictable. They would surely face a wall of hostility, with everyone kicking them while they're down, piling on with every possible hardship, and showering them with scorn and ridicule. Especially now, with Vared's father having died young, leaving behind a widow and orphan. Bullying them seemed all too easy. In human society, so-called relatives and clan members would undoubtedly swarm upon them, devouring them until not a single bone was left.
But not in Sylvania. Other clans treated the Castanien family as they always had—with continued friendship and respect. Even the Castanien family's collateral branches remained loyal to the main line at Dekkenhof Castle. There were no disrespectful old fools spouting nonsense like, "I'm doing this for the family's prosperity," " to seize control of the family, installing their sons or grandsons as Count Castanin in place of Valed.
Everyone—Castanin family members and other vampires alike—gazed at Valed with gentle, encouraging eyes. They offered him heartfelt blessings, hoping he would grow up strong and healthy.
The thought of living among such a pure and kind race moved Varad to tears. Of course, this didn't make him complacent. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, hoping to repay the expectations of his kin and clan. To become a worthy vampire count. Even if he couldn't lead the family or the vampire race to conquer the world, this family legacy, this nation, he would absolutely protect.
"But those matters still feel distant to me," Valed murmured to himself as he floated through the air, advancing steadily toward the heart of the burial grounds. "For now, strengthening my power and accelerating my studies are paramount. After all, protecting both nation and inheritance demands true strength."
The group—sixteen undead and one vampire—ventured deeper into the southern wasteland's graveyard. The tomb guardians at the front parted the tall weeds with the blunt ends of their halberds, while the skeletal hounds strained to discern the path. The ghoul cast a compass spell to confirm their direction. Thus, the group trudged through waist-high grass, passing one plundered tomb after another as they pressed southward.
After nearly an hour of travel, Varred extended a hand. The Magic Wind released a signal, halting the undead procession. The group immediately turned direction, advancing several dozen paces more. They passed through a small grove and arrived at the entrance of a hidden cavern.
Varred manipulated the Magic Wind, commanding the undead to lower their weapons. They cleared away the withered grass and loose soil concealing the cave entrance. Gradually, the traces of artificial excavation emerged, revealing a dark passageway lined with black square bricks before their eyes.
The procession resumed its advance, delving deeper into the tunnel. Brass lamp holders lining both sides of the passage had once held magic crystal lamps that emitted a glowing light. The tunnel also contained numerous traps and mechanisms. Centuries earlier, however, after this tomb was discovered, the precious magic crystals had been removed. All the traps and mechanisms had been dismantled.
The tunnel, devoid of any lighting, was pitch black. Only the faint phosphorescent glow in the eyes of the undead creatures and the blood-red eyes of Valed, flashing with light that carried no heat, allowed them to see as if in normal conditions, even in complete darkness.
After traversing a passageway over thirty meters long, Valed and his undead guards entered the tomb's main hall. Following another winding, maze-like stretch, they reached their target: the burial chamber. Within stood a total of two hundred and thirty-two human skeletons, arranged in perfect order.
This was the culmination of Valed's two-year endeavor. All two hundred and thirty-two of these most basic undead soldiers had been painstakingly unearthed by him, like a petty thief, piece by piece from the mass graves. They were scraps that most families wouldn't even glance at. Valed had granted them the ability to move using the most rudimentary magic—barely even undead sorcery, but pure magical power. Yet their combat effectiveness was truly nothing to boast about.
Equally pitiful was the skeleton soldiers' equipment. Each held a sharpened wooden spear in one hand and a crude shield bound with hemp rope in the other. They wore no armor whatsoever—not even clothing. Their pale, unsettling skeletal bodies were completely exposed. Even in the barren lands of Silvania, skeleton soldiers with such meager gear could only be considered cannon fodder among cannon fodder.
Yet their posture defied their crude gear. They stood in a perfectly aligned, chiseled-square formation, immovable—capable of holding this stance until the end of time... or until the last thread of magic sustaining them was spent.
This was beyond the capability of any living army. The undisciplined greenskins, the savage northern barbarians—needless to say. Even the Dark Elves, renowned for iron discipline; the Dwarves, celebrated for their tenacity; or the Sigmarite Human Empire, famed for their unwavering faith—none could achieve it.
Only the undead can. Absolute loyalty, absolute obedience, absolute order, absolute precision. They are the finest troops to be found anywhere in the known world. This is one reason why the barren, small realm of Sylvania is still regarded as a major power on the continent.
Yet compared to Sylvania's regular army—that vast force of hundreds of thousands, equipped with every manner of powerful undead—the so-called "army" Valed had assembled seemed laughably inadequate. So crude, so rudimentary, so lacking in variety. Even the bastard offspring of a distant branch of an ordinary vampire house would command far superior troops when sent to war.
"This is merely the beginning," Valed reminded himself. The path to his sixteenth birthday—the coming-of-age ceremony for a vampire noble—stretched far ahead. Ample time lay before him to accomplish much. Tonight, after repeated calculations, assessments, and experiments, Valed would undertake his next endeavor.
Two years of painstaking search had seen Valed comb through dozens of hills in the Haunted Graveyard. Persistence paid off. He struck gold. On a remote cliff edge, he discovered a tomb—suspended high above the precipice, its entrance obscured by layers of dust and grime over the ages. Had Valed not once rushed his approach, using levitation magic to descend directly from the cliff's edge, he might never have found this place.
This discovery thrilled Valed immensely. A tomb, seemingly untouched—an invisible barrier formed by potent magic confirmed the noble status of its occupant. Within, burial goods and sacrificial attendants would surely abound—a fortune awaited!
There was just one slight problem: the outer layer of the tomb—or more accurately, the massive magical barrier enveloping the entire structure. This was the tomb owner's first line of defense against grave robbers like Valed.
Of course, no matter how formidable the tomb's defenses, they could only deter petty thieves. When faced with the full might of a state apparatus conducting overt tomb raiding—or rather, outright tomb plundering—even the most meticulous defenses proved futile. The vampires of Sylvania had long perfected the optimal method for neutralizing such barriers. Their approach was utterly safe, leaving the tomb completely undamaged.
Vampires typically gather as many mages as possible. They then use the gentlest magic available to gradually neutralize the magical barrier. This process might take weeks, even months. But such time is insignificant to the long-lived vampires.
Vared, however, lacked such luxury. If he were just a bit older—not much older. Once he reached twelve, he could make this discovery public. At that age, he would barely qualify as a minor adult, and the Citizens' Assembly would grant him basic civic rights. The tomb he found would then belong to him. No one could dispute it.
He could also leverage the power of the Castane family. He might even apply for funding from the Citizens' Assembly or reach out to relatives and friends to hire mages. Slowly, he could work to neutralize the magical barrier.
But he was only six years old now. If he revealed this discovery, all he'd get would be a pat on the head and a "Good job." Hmm... maybe a handful of candy?
After that, he'd face consequences for leaving the castle without permission and playing in such a dangerous place. His stepmom would surely sob into her handkerchief, blaming herself for failing as a mother and dishonoring his dead stepdad. His stepsister would be furious, complaining he didn't bring her along... She ranked top in her year at the academy, could beat even senior students, and would've handled it perfectly... What a pain in the ass.