**Chapter Eight: Demonkind**
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Vampirism is one of the abilities akin to Shiki’s (Ghoul) Sharp Claw and Sharp Fang.
Although a Lower Rank Vampire, known as a N/A Vampire, lacks the powers that make a Vampire truly formidable, Vampirism is one of the few abilities that even a Lower Rank can wield.
A scent wafts through the air—sweet and cloying to the point of being overwhelming.
Vampires feed on blood, but not just any human blood will suffice. They can discern the quality of blood, which is likely another aspect of their abilities. Perhaps, with enough experience, they could even gauge a person’s health status. In fact, I have developed such keen senses that I can intuitively grasp the emotions of others through their scent. It’s a plausible notion.
The situation is dire. Because of Oliver, I’ve been forced to leave the Caravan. However, it is far from the worst-case scenario.
The worst would be being abandoned by Senri and having to fight against him. For now, my life hangs by a thread.
Oliver’s capitulation was entirely unexpected. Despite being a girl, Alba had relentlessly pursued me, so why would Oliver, a much older adult, surrender merely upon showing his face?
Because of that, I have become an enemy of the Caravan.
I knew the backstory of Werewolves, but perhaps the significance of it is heavier than I imagined. Additionally, my impression of Vampires might have been overly simplistic.
The monster that can shred mercenaries like paper surely fears only—greater monsters.
Oliver was completely cowering. His wiry fur and massive frame shrank down, ears twitching as he watched my every move. In his current state, I could easily kill him.
Before me stood a Demon—a female Demon. Clad in a black outfit that concealed only her most intimate areas, she bore large wings sprouting from her back and twisted horns adorning her head. Compared to Senri, her body was voluptuous, her skin exposed in a way that was undeniably provocative, and her features were striking enough that had I been merely human, I would have been left speechless.
But I was not here to admire her beauty; I was here for blood. The companion Oliver had summoned—a Demon named Monica-Ultzvia—emitted an overpowering sweet scent reminiscent of rotting fruit. When she had disguised herself as a human, I hadn’t sensed it, but it seems that her scent changes when she assumes a different form.
Monica’s reaction upon seeing me was similar to Oliver’s. And when she heard from Oliver that I was an “Ancestor,” her expression twisted further in shock.
Throughout this journey, I had heard tales of the N/A Dendor from Senri, but it seems those accounts were tinged with Senri’s subjective views. The Order of the Final Knights, which pursues Vampires and Ancestors, likely has a perspective that diverges significantly from the norm.
“An Ancestor!? Impossible… Why are you here of all places—”
“I thought the same. I never expected someone would interfere with me in a place like this.”
“Impossible—”
Demons are monsters that frequently appear in myths and fairy tales. Unlike Vampires, they are the arch-enemies of gods, known for corrupting and inciting humans. Generally, they are stronger than humans, wielding various evil magics, and their shadows loom over great wars and horrific events.
I was unfamiliar with their combat capabilities. Of course, this was my first encounter. However, if Monica relied on magical attacks, I believed I could gain the upper hand. While her expression did not reflect the same level of fear as Oliver’s, a strong sense of dread was evident.
In general, I was likely stronger.
Monica was battered and bruised. Yet, having survived her skirmish with Senri, it was a testament to her skill.
Should I kill her? It was a no-brainer; she must die. Monica and Oliver may not be my enemies, but they are foes of Senri. And being an enemy of Senri equates to being my enemy.
The Caravan had departed, but I had minimized the chances of suspicion falling on Senri. Considering Senri’s nature, the likelihood of him pursuing me was almost nonexistent, yet reuniting would not be so simple.
I still harbored resentment towards the mercenaries who had given me beef jerky. Now, I could kill them. I would strangle Monica and rip out the heart of Oliver, who was too traumatized to unleash his original power.
Perhaps sensing the turmoil in my heart, Monica took a step back. Oliver trembled pitifully.
Yet, at the same time, I pondered—what would come of that?
I am a monster. I have no intention of betraying Senri, but the N/A Dendor is originally more aligned with Oliver’s side.
And while I possess otherworldly powers… I am incredibly weak to sunlight.
A base is necessary. There are no means left to enter the N/A Rubluk. It’s the front lines against the Demon King; the strategy against Vampires must be flawless. In my puppy form, I could have infiltrated, but news of a Vampire capable of transforming into an adorable, fluffy white puppy would spread quickly.
I must decide. Before dawn breaks. If I am to kill, I will kill; if I am to spare, I will use them. Of course, even if I spare them, I will eventually have to kill them, but if I am to survive, which path should I take?
The cloak I had taken from the appropriate items upon exiting was ill-fitting. I had no weapon.
Monica knelt before me, adopting a posture reminiscent of a knight bowing to a king. She folded her wings and, though her voice trembled slightly, she spoke with dignity.
“Your Majesty, I apologize. I never expected to find you mingling with the Caravan… Please allow me to apologize. Furthermore… beyond this point—past the N/A Rubluk lies the territory of our master, Rainer-sama. Originally, it is a place that does not permit anyone to pass, but—allow me to extend an invitation as a form of apology.”
“Huh? You’re inviting me? Even though I’m still a Lower Rank? Is that alright?”
I was indeed curious about the N/A Rubluk, but Rainer, known as the Demon King, is a formidable presence. To survive, it would be best not to oppose him.
Though I felt anxious about being away from Senri for too long, I trust him. He will surely trust me in return.
“Though we are at war, our victory is already assured. There are no night kings among our allies; Rainer-sama will surely be pleased.”
“…Will you provide blood as well?”
“Of course! Whether it be a hundred or two hundred, we will prepare! There are prisoners in abundance! We will accommodate anything for the King!”
At my inquiry, Oliver sprang up, drooling as he approached. His hot breath carried a potent scent of beast. His mouth, wide open as if to crush my skull, revealed a tongue like fire.
I don’t need a hundred or two hundred.
“I’m a gourmet, Oliver. I was hoping to obtain some exquisite blood. The price will be steep.”
“…I will do my utmost to meet your expectations.”
But they’re prisoners, right? Generally, prisoners have a terrible reputation. First off, malnutrition is a no-go. Stress is also a no-go. They must be girls, or it’s a no-go. They must be pure, or it’s a no-go. They must be young, or it’s a no-go. If they’re End Knight, that would be even better. I doubt they possess blood of the same high quality as Senri.
I licked my lips. It had only been a few days since I had received blood from Senri.
“Let’s start with Monica’s blood. I’ve never tasted Demon blood before.”
“N-No!?”
At my words, Monica, who had been kneeling, widened her eyes and let out a small scream, trembling.
Monica’s scent was overwhelmingly sweet. It smelled like overripe, rotting fruit, a hundred times more potent than Senri’s blood. However, I could probably manage to drink it. After all, I am a Vampire, and I doubt it would upset my stomach, regardless of the taste.
Monica answered in a quavering voice.
“W-Well, I must humbly say… that is impossible… I am not human. I am a Demon. The blood within me is cursed in a way that differs from the King’s.”
It seems that it’s quite impossible for a Vampire to drink Demon blood. Perhaps that’s the reason for the rotten scent. But I narrowed my eyes.
“Cursed…? That sounds delightful. My power as an Ancestor is… inclined toward that aspect, so being a cursed being is no problem. It’s not like there’s garlic mixed in the blood, right?”
“N-No… Please, have mercy.”
Monica bowed her head until it nearly touched the ground. It seems she finds the idea repugnant. Well, normal Vampires are said to drain their victims dry, so her reaction is understandable.
There’s no helping it; Senri had mentioned that the effects of multiple curses are unpredictable, so I’ll let this one slide.
This is a rather risky choice. However, it seems that neither Monica nor Oliver suspects that I might genuinely be Senri’s pet. If I play my cards right, I should be able to navigate this situation.
I consciously nodded, mimicking the demeanor of a king.
“Very well. I have no desire to oppose the Demon King. Guide me before dawn breaks.”