**Chapter Twenty-Six: Thirst for Life**
“!? …You’re still here…”
It was Lord’s voice. If I had the body and composure, I would have laughed at how stubborn he was. The illusion of Holos Carmen stood before me, wearing a frown.
“Could it be that you’ve come to retrieve your body? Sorry, but all that’s left is your head, N/A!”
“Fool. I no longer possess such power. You consumed it, N/A! What remains of me now is merely the dregs of existence.”
“Dregs of existence, you say? Is there even such a thing?”
“End. You will die. If you had relinquished your body to me, this would not have happened.”
But that was akin to being dead anyway. It was no different from now. Whether it was because I lacked power or not, Lord showed no signs of wanting to do anything for me. It would have been nice to receive help, but what could be done with just an illusion?
Still, he was a conversation partner. Even if his form was a mere hallucination and his voice a phantom echo, it was enough.
“Why am I still alive? I don’t even have a heart.”
The weakness of a vampire was supposed to be its heart. To survive like this without it was utterly incomprehensible. Of course, I was grateful… but still…
Lord furrowed his brows, looking at me as if I were a particularly poor student, and answered.
“A vampire dies when its heart is pierced by a wooden stake due to a curse. If it isn’t pierced, it won’t die instantly.”
“Ha… haha, what’s that? Such a strange living object, N/A! It defies the laws of this world, N/A!”
To not die even after losing everything below the neck was utterly absurd. If that were the case, then removing the heart would eliminate one weakness. At my words, Lord snorted.
“However, it is undeniable that the heart is the source of a vampire’s power. Lose your heart, and you lose most of your abilities. This holds true even for you, a ‘Lower Rank’ (レN/Aサー).”
“I never had any power to begin with…”
I had never possessed it. Even after being reborn, I remained an overwhelming weakling. Among those I had interacted with, only Ruu and the non-combatant H/N/Aku were weaker than me. Admittedly, I was far weaker than Ruu or H/N/Aku during my time in bed.
Lord did not respond to my words but continued in a calm tone.
“The Lower Rank (レN/Aサー) is a preparatory stage before becoming a vampire, akin to a pupa. You possess little of a vampire’s abilities, but you also have fewer weaknesses. Therefore, you won’t turn to ash immediately upon exposure to sunlight.”
“Oh, that’s… good to know.”
“However, this means your suffering will be prolonged. Your power is depleted, and regeneration is impossible. You will be eroded by the sunlight, slowly dying. Your abyss is deep, likely much deeper than they think—but surviving long is impossible. You might last an hour from dawn.”
“What should I do…?”
I couldn’t move anything but my mouth. Perhaps even that would soon be impossible. In response to a question from the one who had devoured me, Lord showed no sign of discomfort. He provided an answer in an instant.
“There’s nothing to be done. A Lower Rank (レN/Aサー) vampire with depleted power has no options left.”
So… this is how it ends. Lord’s illusion faded away. His words settled into my mind like a stone.
Then, from here on, it would be a battle of endurance. I would resist the pain. I would maintain my will to live. I would fight against death. It was the same as what I had done in my previous life, lying in bed. The only difference was that now, all I had was my head.
And thus, my final battle began.
§
The dark sky lightened, and a faint glow illuminated the surroundings.
The first sensation I felt was a burning pain, like sunburn. The pain radiated from the crown of my head, engulfing my entire face and turning into a fiery heat.
Immediately after the punishment, I thought I could endure it. I believed it was far better than dying. But soon, I realized that was a misconception. The power of sunlight gradually scorched what remained of my body, searing my thoughts. With only my head, I couldn’t even writhe in agony.
It felt as if I had been exposed to direct sunlight for dozens of hours. The pain slowly, steadily sought to kill me. It aimed to return me to a lifeless state.
I opened my eyes wide, desperately enduring the pain. A rising sense of urgency, akin to the ticking of a clock, assaulted me with a fear stronger than I had felt even before the Order of the Final Knights. Despair washed over me.
My instincts sounded the alarm at the arrival of my natural enemy, the sun. Even though only a little sunlight had emerged, this was the result.
It was a wonder I hadn’t vanished yet. The abyss was filling. Returning to zero. Returning to nothingness. Within me, darkness and light were locked in battle.
I simply endured the pain. The light illuminating the grave grew stronger.
Suddenly, a question arose in my mind.
Lord had said one hour. But an hour was merely a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things. How long could I last? How long could I endure? How long… would I endure?
And—what was the meaning of it all?
Now, I understood why Nebira and the Order of the Final Knights had chosen this as the most torturous death for the undead. Leaving me to my fate was not an oversight. This was torture.
The pain assailing me and the unending punishment of the sun. I could even feel the footsteps of death approaching. The further I was from death as an undead, the more unbearable this punishment became. Because there was no enemy before me, I couldn’t abandon my final hope.
Before my body, my heart was dying. My throat was parched. Tears streamed down my face from the burning pain. I desperately gasped for breath, striving to maintain consciousness.
Accepting death would mean the end. I knew that because I had lived for years afflicted by a strange illness.
In my previous life, as I weakened and endured the pain, clinging to life, the doctors called it a miracle. The initial pity eventually turned to disbelief. Everyone—doctors, family, mages—thought I would die soon. But I survived. Ultimately, I did die, but I never gave up on living until the very end.
I scolded my wavering heart, steeling my resolve. Therefore, this time, I would not give up. I had died once. I had died and miraculously resurrected with my memories intact.
I wouldn’t let myself be defeated by something as trivial as pain or despair.
I moved only my eyes to look up, glaring fiercely at the hated sun. I was a dead person. The vessel of the King of the Dead, as Holos Carmen had envisioned. I would not perish so easily.
I did not scream. While voicing my pain could distract me, it would also drain my strength. That was a technique I had developed in my previous life. Instead, I remained silent, resisting the pain that sought to engulf my consciousness in darkness.
There was no chance of victory. No strategy.
What I sought was—another miracle.
How much time had passed? The sun gradually rose, and the light shining upon me grew stronger. I burned that sight into my eyes.
It was blinding. It hurt. It was terrifying. And—beautiful.
It was impossible; I couldn’t win. The morning I once loved, the sunlight, was trying to expel me from this world.
I would perish. My soul would vanish. It hurt. What on earth was happening to my sunlit face? The light was too strong; I could no longer see. Everything felt as if it were engulfed in the flames of hell.
—I don’t want to die.
I let out a silent scream. Just as my consciousness was about to fade, my head was suddenly lifted.
At first, I thought my soul had ascended to the heavens. But I quickly realized that wasn’t the case. A soul tainted by a necromancer could never reach paradise.
The light filling my vision was subdued, and silver hair entered my sight first. Familiar deep purple eyes, looking dazed, came into view.
I opened my lips. What emerged were fragmented words.
“N/A… Se, n, ri—”
“N/A!! N/A!! N/A!!”
“I can’t hear you…”
My tongue was burning. It was fortunate my eyes were intact. I was at my limit. I was… going to die. The negative energy I possessed was nearly depleted. I could hardly endure even a little sunlight.
In my hazy consciousness, I grasped at the thread of survival.
What should I do? How can I be saved? How can I move Senri, this girl with an uncharacteristic weakness for a Knight of the End? My strength was gone. My options were limited. There was hardly any time to exchange words.
And in that fleeting moment, I released my carefully chosen final words.
“Ah… th…ank… you…”
Senri’s hand, which had been gently lifting my head, trembled for an instant.
I was certain of my success at that reaction and felt a wave of relief.
Senri was emotional, intelligent, and capable of wielding tremendous power with determination. She was stubborn, and as Nebira said, she would be shocked by the death of someone as insignificant as me, a mere passing undead.
They should have destroyed me. They should have annihilated me without mercy, without granting me time for repentance, completely obliterating me.
And so, they would lose. In this world—something precious to them.
The hesitation was momentary. I felt a sensation of weightlessness, and a cool, silky hair brushed against my cheek.
I can no longer see. The world ahead is shrouded in darkness. Yet, the smooth softness pressed against my lips is no mere illusion.
The sweet scent of her skin banishes both pain and despair. My tongue, which should have remained still, extends and savors her flesh. A powerful wave of pleasure surges through my consciousness, a jolt that rekindles a flicker of strength that I thought was long gone.
My vision, once clouded, begins to clear.
“I… will partake,” I murmur.
With a proper greeting to the trembling ears of Senri before me, I sink my fangs into the tender nape of her neck.