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Table of Contents   Prologue   Chapter 01   Chapter 02   Chapter 03   Chapter 04   Chapter 05   Chapter 06   Chapter 07   Chapter 08   Chapter 09   Chapter 10   Chapter 11   Chapter 12   Chapter 13   Chapter 14   Chapter 15   Chapter 16   Chapter 17   Chapter 18   Chapter 19   Chapter 20   Chapter 21   Epilogue       Rise of the Vintner A Vampire Progression Fantasy Book 1 in the Vintner Series   Written by Burt Wrenlaw      Copyright © 2023 Burt Wrenlaw. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, yada yada yada…  Prologue DRK: Good game; got to go.  ARX: 01100111 01100111 MNA: Aw. Do you have to? We were just getting to the good part! EYH: Yeah, that’s right—gg the hell right outta here, you wuss. Three whole angelic hosts with twelve blessed armies behind them, all prepped to ‘liberate’ your cattle worlds with righteous fury? Shit, even I’d just tap out if I was on the receiving end of this level of ass-reaming. <DRK has left the galaxy> EYH: Bah! Pussy saw the writing on the wall; left before I could kick his sorry ass all the way to the cellular stage of his pathetic existence. STN: …you seriously don’t comprehend the level to which DRK has been trapping his space, do you? EYH: Trap, schmap. The best of his blood-suckers can barely stand toe-to-toe with my angels. What’re they gonna do against three whole angelic hosts? Not just hosts on their own, no, but hosts buffed by the righteous fervor of a dozen blessed armies! Even if he stuck around to face his inevitable demise, he just don’t got the juice to go up against what’s comin’ for him! STN: Well, since DRK’s not around anymore to obfuscate his territory and fuel the Signatures of his assets… why don’t you go take a peek into the immaterial planes of his territory? Pick any system you like. MNA: Why, what did DRK put in… oh. Wow.  EYH: Yeah, right. As if he has anything that can handle all of… my… holy shit. That’s a lot of entropic energy.  ARX: 01001100 01001111 01001100 EYH: Butt out, you overgrown toaster.  STN: Yes, oh clueless deity, that is a lot of entropic energy… but only if DRK was still around to shape them into their intended purpose. Namely the violent generation of singularities large enough to instantly consume a whole star system.  MNA: How did we miss this? STN: Because you failed to cultivate intel assets in the territories of your rivals, like the brainless barbarians that you are. EYH: Psh, we’re not all backstabbing cunts like you. MNA: Hey! That’s sexist! EYH: As if you don’t call me a dick whenever my missionaries convert one of your worlds to the one true faith. MNA: That’s different! EYH: Double standards, much? MNA: This! This is why nobody likes you, EYH! EYH: Wait. What’s that? MNA: What? STN: What? EYH: That noise… is that the pitiful whining of a scrub I hear? MNA: OH, IT’S ON! EYH: Bring it! Those inbred mutants of yours ain’t got nothing on my angels! Which, by the way, are prepped to take over all those juicy, populated worlds that DRK abandoned. Give my missionaries a century to do their thing, and I’ll have enough worshippers to manifest even more angelic hosts to… wait a minute. STN, you backstabbing cunt, get your fucking fingers out of my shrine worlds! STN: What are you talking about? EYH: I’m not blind, you dipshit! Those are fucking hellgates I’m seeing! STN: Oh. I was wondering where those went. MNA: Hey… EYH: You close those hellgates right this instant, or I swear in my name that I’m going to rain down so much heavenly fury down your throat it’ll come out your asshole! STN: Let me think about it. Mmmm… how about you make me? Oh, wait: your forces are all assembled in staging areas far away from your shrine worlds. And even if you could, you don’t even know which worlds my hidden believers have set themselves up in. Why don’t you run another Great Inquisition to root out the devils hiding among your pops? I’m sure it’ll go as well as the last four you pulled off, and that no upswelling of resentment from the increasingly intrusive measures will push disgruntled converts my way. MNA: Hey! EYH: Blah-blah-blah! You want a war? You’ll GET a war! STN: You and what army? By the time your angels get back—traitors within your pops are already disrupting gates between your worlds, by the way—my devils will have corrupted more than half of your shrine worlds. Without faith, that vaunted army of angels and blessed you are so proud of will cease to be any threat to— MNA: HEY, ASSHOLES!!! EYH: WHAT!? STN: What?  MNA: ARX is sending extraction fleets to crack D’s worlds!!! You know, along with the tens of trillions of pops living on them?  ARX: 01110010 01101111 01100110 01101100 01101101 01100001 01101111 EYH: Oh no you don’t! Those are MY worlds to conquer! STN: Yes, please—do leave your shrine worlds defenseless and unguarded, all primed for corruption. MNA: Trash-talk later, guys, because we need those living pops while ARX’s machines just need the rocks they live on. And it doesn’t care if the rocks are cracked and floating in space since he just needs the raw materials.