**Chapter 21: Corrosion②**
**Chapter Three**
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**Chapter 21: Corrosion②**
Vampirism, as a Vampire, holds a meaning that extends far beyond merely drinking blood.
We, the Oni, endowed with monstrous strength and regenerative abilities, and various terrifying supernatural powers such as transformation into wolves, bats, or mist, are referred to as “Vampire” Oni rather than mist Oni or wolf Oni. This is likely because our powers are the most terrifying to ordinary people.
From my experiences as a Vampire, having received Senri’s blood countless times, I have come to understand that Vampirism serves as a means of replenishing energy, a reproductive act that grants intense pleasure to both parties, a method of communication, and even a violation of the soul.
Tales of the wretched souls enchanted by a Vampire’s blood exist throughout the ages, both in the East and West. Through the act of Vampirism, I was able to connect with Senri. When I drank from Albatos, I even felt as if I were reliving that person’s life.
While Senri and Albatos showed almost no visible changes after experiencing Vampirism, this was due to their exceptionally strong wills as humans, which is not a normal reaction.
Of course, it was only natural for Monica to fear my Vampirism. She was intelligent, and she knew that she was not particularly strong against it.
Three bites—that was the number of times it took for me to subdue Monica. While Demons are generally stronger than humans, it seems that this does not apply to the mind. At the first bite, she resisted fiercely. By the second bite, her resistance weakened significantly, and by the third, she succumbed, becoming a pitiful being that merely writhed and begged for mercy.
Monica became a useful subject for me to gauge my power.
I could not keep her with me for long. I was an ally of Senri, and Monica was an enemy of hers. However, even without that consideration, I would not have accepted Monica. It would have been meaningless. She was far too weak. If there was any value in Monica, it was only as prey. Thus, I should have been grateful that she provided me with a reason to treat her as such.
Monica’s skin and flesh were soft, and her blood, as its scent suggested, was incredibly sweet. Senri’s blood was sweet, but Monica’s had a concentrated sweetness that caught in the back of my throat. The viscosity of her blood was no different from that of a human, but its taste reminded me of sweet fruit preserves.
In the dark confines of the coffin, I held Monica’s trembling, voluptuous body tightly, suppressing her resistance with sheer force as I slowly drank her blood. The body of a Demon was hardly different from that of a human. While she was more well-endowed than Senri, that could be attributed to individual differences. The sweet scent that intensified with each lick and sip, the moist skin that quivered with excitement and pleasure—none of it was different. And the flowing blood held no significant differences either.
To embrace her body tightly enough to nearly suffocate her while savoring her blood was the ultimate pleasure. However, it was likely that the ecstasy Monica felt surpassed even what I experienced. Perhaps the pleasure brought by a Vampire is closely tied to death. The fusion of the fear of death and sensuality creates a pleasure that is rarely experienced while alive.
The unique miscalculation was that Monica’s words contained a lie.
“Ha… You’re lying… You’re not cursed at all…”
I whispered to Monica, who was slowly succumbing to the endless, gentle pleasure of having her blood drawn, her body trembling in response.
Monica’s blood was quite delicious, but the “Curse Absorption” did not activate. I hadn’t expected much from it, but the notion of cursed blood was likely just a ruse to avoid being drained by me. In the first place, the curses I could absorb were probably only those placed from the outside. Demons are simply that kind of race; they are not cursed by anyone.
Nevertheless, I was in a good mood from the taste of blood after such a long time. While I couldn’t replenish my strength as much as when I drank from Senri or Albatos, it seemed that I could still recover to some extent from Demon blood. Perhaps appearances had something to do with it.
So, I traced my tongue along Monica’s neck, carefully searching for the next spot to sink my fangs into. Ultimately, I intended to pierce every spot I desired, but since I had no intention of draining Monica completely, my choices were necessary.
“Come now, Monica. It’s wrong to lie. Apologize?”
“—Ah… Ah… I… I’m… so sorry… Please forgive me… I’m sorry… I’m sorry. Please, please, forgive me, Doro-sama… Please, forgive me…”
Breathless, Monica offered her tear-streaked apology. Her clothing, which had completely concealed her body, was torn by my claws, leaving deep gashes all over. I pressed our bodies together without hesitation, binding her further. My intention was to do what Senri could not.
Unfortunately, I was incapable of engaging in what is generally considered sexual intercourse. As a “Lower Rank Vampire,” I lacked that function. While it might have been possible to simulate it, my interest lay solely in drinking blood, and I had no desire to engage in anything that wasn’t enjoyable.
What I needed to do next was gather information. Monica had likely been selective about the information she provided me, adjusting it so as not to disadvantage the Demon King’s forces while observing me. However, now, I needed her to reveal everything. I had to rescue the captive Knight, slay the man-eater, eliminate Lainel, and prevent the invasion of Ronaburuk.
Though it was my first time interrogating someone, I believed I could manage with Monica in her current dazed state. I felt a thrill of excitement. Watching Monica writhe in ecstasy as I drank her blood was a true delight of being a Vampire.
After a moment’s hesitation, I realized that there was no longer any need for Monica to hide her rebellious heart now that I had bitten her. The time limit was closing in. Considering her personality, it wouldn’t be surprising if Senri came looking for me soon. The situation was becoming dire.
Well, if things went south, I could always abandon everything and flee. Emotional baggage would remain, but life is the most important thing. As long as Senri and I survived, that was all that mattered. It was my first time, and even if I failed, there was no need to dwell on it. I would take it easy and enjoy the interrogation.
I sank my fangs into Monica’s neck just a few millimeters deep and whispered directly to her.
“Monica, tell me the weaknesses of the Demon King Lainel from your perspective.”
“Ah… Hah, hah… What…?”
Her convulsions instantly ceased, and a dazed voice escaped her lips. It seemed that Monica’s spirit had not yet fully surrendered.
Good. Very good. It would be unsatisfying otherwise. The night was still long, and even if morning came, as long as I remained in this coffin where light could not reach, I would be invincible.
I just needed to be careful not to die. We would take our time and discuss this.
At that moment, I came up with a rather interesting game. While gently kneading her soft skin, I spoke to Monica, who trembled for reasons beyond pleasure.
“That’s right… I’m not just any Oni. As long as you keep talking, I won’t bite you. It’s a generous offer for someone dragged into the world of Vampires, don’t you think? And I won’t kill you either. You can trust me; I keep my promises.”
§
Monica’s lips were very tight. To extract the information I needed, I had to bite her belly, chest, and thighs with a gentle touch. Ultimately, as she was swept away by intense pleasure and struggled against a fear she had never felt before, Monica began to speak.
The Demon King Lainel. A seasoned warrior, the King of the Lion Dragons.
His being—was a mix of lion beast and dragon blood. There exists a sub-race known as Dragonfolk, renowned for their strongest lineage that carries dragon blood, but Lainel was the beastly version of that. It was almost impossible for a dragon to mate with a beast, making him a miraculous existence.
His enormous body, marked by dragon blood, was formidable. His golden fur surpassed that of a man-eater, and his claws could slice through castle walls like paper. His strength was said to surpass even that of dragonkind, and while he apparently could not use the Breath, one of the dragon’s threats, it was uncertain how much of that was true.
If anyone in the Demon King’s army could injure Lainel, it would only be the “man-eater” known as Naba-2.
If Monica’s words, spoken in a half-conscious state, were true, then unlike Vampires, Lainel had no significant weaknesses. To defeat the Demon King, one would need to either surpass him in pure ability or ensnare him with strategy.
However, what was even more intriguing than Lainel’s strength was the fact that this Demon King was classified as a pure living being rather than a “demonic entity.”
For example, Monica, being a Demon, is classified as “demonic.” She has weaknesses to silver and holy water. Oliver, the Werewolf, is also demonic, and of course, I, as a Vampire, am demonic as well.
“Demonic” refers to beings that belong to the darkness and are weak against silver—a general term for cursed beings.
There may be various definitions, but for now, academic discussions are irrelevant. What matters is that Lynel is merely a living Object, yet he can be armed with Holy Silver against the Deceased. The significance of this cannot be understated—
I, Oliver, and Monica all have an aversion to silver, meaning we cannot wield silver Weapons. What does this imply—?
I kept my promise. After concluding our conversation, I drained Monica’s Blood to the limit, yet no rank Mutation occurred. Had a rank Mutation taken place and I acquired the powers of a Vampire, Lynel might have been able to fight on equal footing. But, well, it can’t be helped. I can only win Negative with the cards I have.
Rising from the coffin, I bask in the fresh air for the first time in a while. It seems I had focused too much on draining Blood, as crimson Light filters through the gaps of the boarded-up window.
Evening… perhaps. It’s a bit early for Vampire time, but it’s not bad.
Inside the coffin, Monica lies as if dead, draped in tattered clothing. Perhaps sensing my awakening, Oliver swiftly approaches and kneels before me, presenting the outfit I chose yesterday with reverent hands.
Could it be that Oliver has been watching over me all this time, just as I instructed?
“G-Good morning. This is your attire, End-sama.”
I accept the clothing with a hint of exasperation. While I don’t mind being treated with respect, it’s clear that Oliver’s reverence is directed not at me, but at the Vampire. I can’t trust that.
Now then, I must take care of what needs to be done before reuniting with Senri.
The first target had already been decided.