Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Chapter 424

As the Progenitor’s consort, I had become something of a celebrity.

Every vampire knew me instantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Even among humans walking the streets, a good third of them recognized me on sight, and half of those didn’t hesitate to come up and talk to me directly.

"Excuse me, could you be…!"

Being the Progenitor’s consort wasn’t something I needed to keep secret. Not that I could, anyway—Tyrkanzyaka was far too prominent a figure in the duchy.

So rather than hide, I declared it outright.

"Yes. I am the Progenitor’s consort. That’s me."

A chorus of astonished gasps followed.

"Ooooh… Somehow, I knew it!"
"You have the face of a consort!"
"I can’t say I believe it, but you wouldn’t scam the Progenitor, so it must be true!"

What the hell is a "consort’s face"? And scamming?

Anyone hearing this would think I was some sleazy bastard who drained women dry and abandoned them.

I don’t look that much like a scumbag, do I?

"Pardon me, but… how old are you?"

"Shhh. That’s a secret. I made a deal never to count my age in Tyrkanzyaka’s presence… Don’t ask why. It’s punishable as blasphemy."

"Where did you first meet the Progenitor?"

"I was searching for treasure in the deepest, coldest underground abyss when I found her. Or maybe it was fate? After all, the Progenitor was a treasure in her own right."

"What’s the secret to the Progenitor’s irresistible taste in blood?"

"That’s not just a privacy issue—it’s a state secret. I think I’ll keep that one to myself."

As I walked, more and more people gathered.

Their curiosity burned too strongly to be ignored.

Rather than avoid their gazes, I basked in them, strolling casually through the streets.

The crowd swelled, drawing in even those who had been minding their own business.

Before I knew it, a procession had formed, packing the streets.

In a land like the Mist Duchy, where little ever changed, humans craved interesting news.

And the Progenitor’s handpicked consort?

Now that was a topic worth chewing on.

A romance between a mere human and the ruler who stood higher than the heavens.

"What do you think is the cutest thing about the Progen—"

"Enough."

Step. Step.

The once-lively crowd fell silent as the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the street.

People hesitated, then instinctively turned toward the voice—

And immediately lowered their heads in submission.

"E-Erthe Count…!"

An Ain.

A vampire thrall, inheriting the power and authority of an Elder.

Their age and strength varied depending on when they were turned,

But one thing was certain—

They were more powerful than almost any human.

"You ignorant livestock," the vampire’s voice rang.

"Do not obstruct the path of the Progenitor’s consort."

And unlike vampires, Ains were constantly replaced.

Only the strongest survived.

Count Erthe was proof of that.

Blood slithered along the ground, creeping up human ankles like living tendrils.

Thin, crimson veins spread across their skin, tightening around them.

And then, in perfect synchrony—

Every single human in the vicinity was yanked away, as if pulled by invisible strings.

It was a technique derived from Kabilla’s bloodcraft, refined to move dozens of bodies in an instant.

Not overwhelming in raw power, but requiring an extraordinary level of precision—

A mastery of hemocraft.

The humans, oddly accustomed to such treatment, only let out mild cries of protest.

Not that it made it any less unpleasant.

Grumbling complaints lingered in the air.

But Erthe Count, Vladimir’s loyal retainer and the administrator of Full Moon Castle, didn’t seem to care.

She parted the crowd and approached me, dressed in an elegant suit, her hat tilted at the perfect angle.

Then, with a graceful bow—

"Consort, why do you walk the streets without an escort?"

"Wait, is my official title actually ‘consort’? Why are you calling me that?"

"As you are the Progenitor’s consort, I address you accordingly."

"Then what does that make you, bowing to a consort?"

"Ain are the thralls of Elders. Compared to the Progenitor’s consort, I am of lower rank."

…To her, that was simply common sense.

Even though, realistically, I wouldn’t stand a chance against this Ain in a fight.

But because I was Tyrkanzyaka’s chosen consort, even an Ain deferred to me.

"Where are you headed? I, Erthe von Blood, a loyal servant of Vladimir, shall escort you."

"I was planning to go to Full Moon Castle, but I also wanted to explore the streets for a bit."

"Then I shall escort you. Enjoy your outing to your heart’s content."

Tch.

I just wanted to browse at my own pace, but now a vampire escort was tagging along?

Runken already did this, and now an Ain too?

If even Yeilings were the same, then I guess I’d never get to walk around freely in this land.

"Do I really need an escort?"

"An escort is not merely for your protection. It is a sign of vampiric reverence toward the Progenitor, and a symbol of your authority."

"So… you’re not saying that I’m not in danger?"

"…I will guide you."

Somewhere, two Yeilings emerged from the shadows and started herding the remaining people aside.

The gathered crowd, as if this was a routine occurrence, followed their instructions.

In an instant, the streets became quiet again.

And so, my boring sightseeing tour began, under Erthe Count’s watchful eye.

I had expected this, but…

As long as I was Tyrkanzyaka’s consort, I couldn’t even pretend to be ordinary.

With nothing else to do, I cast a glance at Erthe Count, following just half a step behind me—

And suddenly, something clicked.

Erthe Count.

I’d heard that name before.

Where was it?

Ah.

"Oh, right. There was a Yeiling named Finlay who ended up in Tantalos."

Erthe Count froze mid-step.

Was she startled by the sudden mention of her subordinate?

No.

Vampires weren’t sentimental like that.

She had immediately reached a grim conclusion the moment I said Finlay’s name.

Finlay had gone to Tantalos, searching for the Progenitor.

Now, he was gone.

Somewhere between Tantalos and the Mist Duchy, something unexpected had happened to Finlay.

And whatever it was—

It could have only occurred under the Progenitor’s will or her tacit approval.

Because under the Progenitor’s power—

A vampire could not die.

"I cannot begin to fathom what offense my lacking Yeiling may have committed."

"Finlay was intent on starting a war. He wanted Tyrkanzyaka to return to the duchy as soon as possible. In the process… he overstepped his bounds."

"Ah. That fool actually went and—"

Erthe Count looked utterly humiliated.

Not because she feared being held accountable.

But because a Yeiling—an extension of her own will—had committed such a disgraceful act.

"Dare I ask what exactly he did?"

"Tyrkanzyaka was conducting experiments on her heart. At some point, she entrusted Finlay with making it beat in her stead while she rested. And while she was asleep—"

"That imbecile…!"

The sheer audacity of his actions was beyond imagination.

It was a crime so severe that an entire bloodline could be eradicated for it.

It wasn’t just betrayal—it was treason.

Erthe Count clutched her chest as if she were suffocating from the gravity of it.

"…For such a crime, I will personally present myself and take my own life."

"Is that really necessary? Tyrkanzyaka has already buried the memory somewhere deep in her mind. Bringing it up now might only upset her needlessly."

"Then, I shall inform Vladimir and ask him to take my life instead!"

"Why are you being so dramatic? Vladimir would rather just have his subordinate shut up and pretend this never happened. Wouldn’t that be better for both Tyrkanzyaka and Vladimir?"

I was outright suggesting she cover up the truth.

It was an act of sheer disloyalty, but also the solution that produced the least trouble.

Erthe Count, overwhelmed with disgrace, hesitated for a moment at my words.

And in that brief opening, I took the chance to ask something that had been on my mind.

"By the way, I have a question. Do thralls ever act on their own, without their master’s command?"

"…There are rare cases where they misinterpret orders and lose control."

Her response sounded defensive, but she soon elaborated.

"However, as you have pointed out—Finlay’s will is an extension of my own. He received my blood, followed my blood’s instincts, and resonated with my blood’s desires."

A Yeiling wasn’t exactly the same as an Ain—but it was hard to say they were completely different, either.

A Yeiling who drank an Ain’s blood shared in their emotions.

When an Ain was enraged, so was their Yeiling.

When an Ain felt sorrow, their Yeiling wept alongside them.

The blood that flowed within them dictated their feelings.

And over time, through repeated reinforcement, the thrall’s thoughts, values, and even personality would align with their master’s.

After all, emotions were ultimately just physiological responses.

There was a reason thralls were often referred to as "extensions of the body."

"Finlay desired war. So then—what does that mean?"

"The struggle against the Celestials is the duchy’s destiny."

"And?"

"…However, the duchy has been at peace for too long. Power means nothing if it goes unused. Meanwhile, the Holy Crown Church has been weakened by repeated misfortunes. They failed in their grand conversion campaign in the Savage Lands, and their attempts to mediate the conflict between the Empire and the Arcane Federation have left them abandoned by both sides. If we are to act, now is the opportunity."

She wasn’t wrong.

It was an ideal time for war.

But that didn’t mean war was necessary.

I decided to take a look inside her thoughts.

"Power means nothing if it goes unused. With an Elder dead, we must act before the Mist Duchy falls behind—"

In a hurry, are we?

How unusual.

People grow impatient when they feel pressured.

But vampires were different.

Having lived for a thousand years, death was a distant concern.

With eternity ahead of them, vampires had no reason to rush.

And yet… Erthe Count was an Ain.

She was a vampire, and death should have been just as distant for her.

Then why this sense of urgency?

I spoke, testing my theory.

"You said thralls don’t normally act without their master’s command, right?"

"That is correct."

"That must apply to you as well, then. Not as a master, but as a thrall."

As soon as the words left my mouth—

Erthe Count stiffened.

As though she had just received divine revelation.

Her eyes filled with reverence, and she gazed at the empty air before her—

Then turned to glance at me, just briefly, before stepping ahead.

"Follow me."

Without another word, I followed Erthe Count.

The streets surrounding Full Moon Castle were shrouded in darkness.

Even as the duchy’s capital, shadowed alleys were far more common than sunlit streets.

Erthe Count knew these alleys well.

And among them, there were places that only vampires could enter.

Guided by some unseen force, she parted the veil of darkness and stepped through.

Beyond it lay a modest but practical office.

And inside—

"You’ve been running around quite a bit, consort. Almost as much as me."

There, amidst his endless duties, Vladimir the Crimson Duke was waiting for me.