Kol Mikaelson-The Wild Original

A/N

So it seems the chapter was not saved when I had it saved here and failed to auto upload I forgot to recheck 

current powerstones 38/100

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As I strolled through the streets of New Orleans, nostalgia wrapped around me like a familiar embrace. The music, the murals, the dance, and the ever-present festive atmosphere—this city pulsed with life in a way few others did. But beneath the vibrant façade, beneath the thin veneer of normalcy humans clung to, there was magic. A raw, untamed force that whispered through the air, just waiting to be acknowledged. It was intoxicating.

This was the freedom I had always loved, and for that, I intended to forge a dagger to punish Klaus.

Though, of course, there were other reasons as well.

As I moved through the city, I felt the unmistakable thrum of magic in the air. Something powerful. Something old. I quickened my pace, following the pull of energy, and soon enough, I could taste it—sacrificial magic.

A slow smirk crept across my face.

"Well, well. What perfect timing."

The realization settled in my mind like a pleasant surprise. The Harvest Ritual. One of the worst decisions ever made by the witches of New Orleans.

I stepped into the woods where the ritual was taking place, and before me was a standoff—Marcel and his loyal little army facing off against the witches. They were already near the end of the ritual, the air thick with power and desperation.

A chuckle escaped my lips.

"Oh my, what a wonderful time to be alive."

As my gaze roamed over the gathered witches, one pair of eyes locked onto mine—hers. The one woman I might have once loved in another life. Her magic brushed against me, testing, recognizing, and my skin tingled in response.

She whispered one word.

"Old One."

Marcel tensed, his shoulders stiff as he took me in, while one of his lackeys sneered, stepping forward with the arrogance of the ignorant.

"Who's this little vampire?" the fool scoffed. "Don't you know the rules?"

I raised an eyebrow, amusement lacing my expression as I replied mockingly, "Oh? And what rules would those be?"

"The rules of Marcel, King of New Orleans. Vampires must pay respect before doing anything here."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, I laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that echoed through the trees.

"Oh, Marcellus," I mused, shaking my head. "You really should have told your little soldiers the truth. The Mikaelsons built this city, and we certainly never crowned the little gremlin my brother adopted as its king."

Marcel's jaw tightened, but I ignored him, turning my attention to the witches.

"And you lot—what madness drove you to commit such a heinous act? Sacrificing your own children?"

The lead witch straightened, a flicker of steel in her gaze.

"It was the only way."

"Is that so?" I drawled. "Do enlighten me."

She inhaled sharply before speaking. "Marcel enforced a rule—no magic can be performed without his permission."

I clicked my tongue in disappointment. "How pathetic. My brother's pet truly has no shame."

Marcel scowled. "I'm not related to you."

I smirked. "Oh, Marcellus, I am truly glad you said that. Now, I won't have to explain why you're dead when your father comes calling."

Fear flickered in his eyes.

I turned to the young witch bound for sacrifice. "Move aside, little one."

"I'm not little," she muttered under her breath.

Amused, I grinned. "Very well. Shall we begin?"

With that, I extended my axe.

The moment my fingers curled around the hilt, the air pulsed with power. My axe, an ancient weapon infused with dark enchantments, hummed in my grasp. The runes along its surface glowed an eerie crimson, reacting to the bloodlust it sensed in me.

Marcel barely had time to command his men before I moved.

I vanished from sight—only to reappear behind the nearest vampire, driving my axe into his back. The enchanted steel sank in deep, and with a mere twist of my wrist, his entire torso split apart like a rotten fruit. His screams turned to gurgles as his body crumbled to ash.

The next vampire lunged for me, fangs bared, but I swung my axe in an upward arc. The blade never even touched him. Instead, a shockwave of raw force erupted from the edge, sending him flying through the air before he crashed into a tree with a sickening crunch. His head lolled at an unnatural angle—his neck snapped clean in two.

The bloodthirst in me sang.

Marcel growled, his eyes darkening with rage. "Kill him!"

His remaining forces obeyed, swarming me in a blur of fangs and claws. I welcomed them.

With a whispered word, the runes on my axe ignited with black fire. I spun in place, dragging the weapon through the air, and a ring of hellish flames erupted around me. The vampires caught in its path didn't just burn—they disintegrated, their bodies reduced to smoldering embers before they could even scream.

A fist came at me from the side. I caught it effortlessly, squeezing until bones shattered under my grip. The vampire shrieked, his arm hanging limp as I yanked him forward—only to drive my axe into his gut.

I leaned in, whispering against his ear. "You should've run."

With a single jerk, I ripped him in half.

The battlefield was painted in gore. Limbs littered the ground, ash swirled through the air, and the stench of burning flesh clung to my senses like a lover's embrace.

Marcel stood frozen, his expression unreadable.

I tilted my head. "Still think you're king?"

His jaw clenched. He knew he had lost.

I sighed, shaking the blood off my axe before turning to the witches. "Let's make a deal, shall we?"

They hesitated but eventually nodded.

I hummed. "I'll spare you all—on one condition. You and the next generation of your covens will swear a blood oath never to participate in any schemes against me or my siblings. No alliances. No betrayals. No foolish vendettas."

The lead witch exhaled shakily. "And what of the girl?"

I turned to Davina. "Ah, yes. The little witchling."

Her wide eyes met mine, filled with both fear and defiance.

"You have a choice, love," I told her. "Continue with their ritual and be slaughtered… or let me finish it another way, one where you don't have to die."

She hesitated only a moment before whispering, "I don't want to die."

I grinned.

"Smart girl."

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