**Chapter 3: Noble Blood③**
“Everywhere I go, the stench of DeathPersons lingers… I never thought such a time would come…”
As OLIVER-ALBOR walked through the desolate streets, he let out a small sigh. Despite the sun still shining in the sky, there were hardly any souls wandering about.
Once, the daytime was the realm of the living, a time when the activities of high-ranking AdeNADoro were greatly restricted. But everything had changed.
With the retreat of the Order of the Final Knights, the natural enemies of the AdeNADoro, the balance of power had shifted dramatically. For humans, who lacked the ability to wield Blessings, even low-ranking AdeNADoro posed a sufficient threat during the daytime. If help wasn’t forthcoming, the danger was all the more pronounced.
Moreover, sensing the decline in defensive capabilities, even the previously docile youkai and AdeNADoro, who had not aligned themselves with the demon king, began to stir.
OLIVER, too, was originally more aligned with that side. When he worked as a member of the Rainer army, he had taken delight in slaying humans—not for sustenance, but to satisfy the primal instincts instilled in him as a Werewolf.
Even now, that instinct had not vanished.
“…Hmph.”
OLIVER snorted softly. The physical bodies of humans were utterly inconvenient compared to those of Werewolves. Thanks to the cursed shadow, he was relatively strong even in human form, but it was nothing compared to his transformed state.
The curse of the Werewolf came with its drawbacks. While it instilled a primal nature, prolonged transformation could lead to being consumed by that very instinct, reducing one to nothing more than a beast. However, for OLIVER, who had been cursed by a Familiar of Third Rank, these drawbacks were manageable with caution.
During his time in the Rainer army, he had often taken on the form of a Werewolf, nearly to the limit. But now, he spent most of his time in human form.
Perhaps it was because he was lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed he was surrounded. Three figures behind him, three in front. They were humans armed with poorly made swords and armor. From their footfalls and the way they concealed their presence, it was clear they had some combat experience.
In other words… they were nothing more than fodder. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t even qualify as mercenaries. At best, they were mere thieves.
He raised his gaze and locked eyes with one of the men approaching from the front.
The man was a head taller than OLIVER in his human form. Despite being in the middle of town, he wore a well-used, oversized curved sword at his waist—his mouth twisted into a grotesque smile.
The man stopped a few meters ahead, and OLIVER matched his pace, aware of the others silently flanking him.
The chaos had not only invigorated the AdeNADoro.
With that movement, OLIVER thought to himself.
Indeed, they were thieves. With the demon kings becoming more active, most towns had fallen into a state of weakened defense. The fact that they seemed unconcerned about the emergency suggested that humans might be exceedingly foolish.
The men were all clad in dark-colored attire.
“Hey, old man. What are you doing alone? This place is dangerous; you must know that. The ‘King of Heads’ controls this area.”
“The King of Heads…”
At OLIVER’s murmur, the man raised an eyebrow in suspicion but quickly nodded vigorously. The two men flanking him spread out to the sides with a practiced motion.
“Yes, that’s right. The King of Heads. Most of the soldiers who once protected this town are dead. Of course, the King has no interest in a desolate place like this—but there are those who do.”
The man dramatically gripped his curved sword and assumed a stance, its dull gleam reflecting the sunlight. His companions also drew their weapons.
Pathetic. Utterly pathetic. In the past, such scum wouldn’t have dared to attack even outside the town. Of course, that was partly because OLIVER had been the one doing the attacking…
“The King told us to do as we please. This black attire is proof! The more heads we collect, the more status the King grants us!”
Such foolish thinking. The dead despise the living. No matter the reason, showing mercy to mere humans was inconceivable. Especially if they were petty criminals.
OLIVER shifted his stance, glancing around at the men encircling him, and sighed.
“The King of Heads.”
There were more kings he had never heard of. It was undoubtedly a disadvantage for humans, but the demon kings were not a monolith either.
The power dynamics had been rewritten too frequently. Until the Order of the Final Knights disappeared, where on earth had this ‘King of Heads’ been hiding?
Could it be that there were even humans siding with the demon kings—though it hadn’t been zero in the past, the recent numbers were far too high.
End-BaLNA lamented the decline of the vampire quality, but it seemed that the decline was not limited to vampires alone.
To decide on a raid based solely on the opponent’s physique, their armaments, and their numbers…
“…You’re just being used. The AdeNADoro can’t exert power under the sun, unlike me—”
And then—OLIVER transformed.
While low-ranking Werewolves required the moon to change, OLIVER, of Third Rank, did not. It had been ages since the Beast King was vanquished. Almost no Werewolves remained who could transform without the moon.
In an instant, OLIVER grew larger, and the expressions of the men, who had just moments ago been twisted with cruel anticipation of a new hunt, turned to shock.
They stood frozen, neither swinging their swords, screaming, nor fleeing. It was an enormous gap before a monster.
“I won’t receive a reward, but if I don’t take heads, I’ll be killed.”
The primal nature of the Werewolf was driven by one thing: Fear.
Wolves form packs. Werewolves were created to be dominated.
As long as the pack’s leader desired it, attacking humans was forbidden.
The blossoms of blood bloomed. With a single swing of his arm, three men were torn apart and fell. Only then did one of the men let out a scream that was neither a cry of despair nor anger.
“I never thought such a day would come…”
The man raised his curved sword and charged recklessly. OLIVER let out another small sigh before pouncing like the monster he was.
—
It was not going well.
In a mansion abandoned after an invasion by the Demon Race, I sighed in the basement, where sunlight was completely blocked by curtains and wooden debris.
I settled onto a sofa that had been brought in, shaking my head to dispel an inexplicable sense of urgency.
There were no enemies nearby anymore. I had killed Rainer and defeated the King of VoidShadow. Now, the only ones who could kill me were demon kings or vampires of the same kind, and perhaps the Order of the Final Knights. Maybe the vampire hunters could be strong enemies, but unless they made considerable mistakes, I didn’t think they could fight me.
However, the situation had not changed at all.
I had saved multiple towns and laid to rest countless Darkness Familiars. Mireille was gradually learning to harness the powers of a vampire through experience.
But there was a lack of information. The Darkness Familiars were overflowing. Among those I had slain, some claimed to be kings, but their power was far inferior to that of Rainer and his companions. It seemed that the demon kings, who were cornering the Order of the Final Knights, were too busy to attack mere human towns.
Whether it was deliberate or coincidental, there were far too many annoying individuals. The destruction of communication networks between towns made information transmission difficult as well.
I still had no idea where the Order of the Final Knights was fighting. All I knew was that they were apparently resisting around Senri. As expected of Senri, their information concealment was perfect. It was quite troublesome.
After all, I was just a slightly stronger vampire.
The fact that I could only go outside at night was undoubtedly a problem as well. Bats were convenient for reconnaissance, but if I could only operate while the sun was down, my movement range was severely limited. The continent was far too vast.
And if the Order of the Final Knights was holed up somewhere, it would likely be near water. At worst, it could be an isolated island surrounded by water.
For now, my allies were OLIVER, Monica, and Mireille. OLIVER was a useless dog, and while Monica could fly, she wasn’t very strong. The Death Soul Disease scouting operation was hardly going smoothly. The number of people was already low, and now we were in the midst of a war. Was Mireille’s quick discovery merely luck?
In the first place, the Familiarization of vampires involved the transfer of power. Since it was a transfer, creating a Familiar would diminish the original’s power. I couldn’t create too many Familiars.
At this rate, when would I be able to reunite with Senri? If things continued like this, Senri might forget me—no, she wouldn’t!
I felt like scattering flyers from the sky proclaiming that End was alive. But I couldn’t do that, as Monica would get shot down.
Mireille, on the other hand…
“Brother! Look at this!”
At that moment, from the darkness, my only Familiar, Mireille, burst into the room with a beaming smile.
Mireille was completely unclothed. When she transformed into a wolf, her clothes would tear apart.
The only ability I inherited was “Curse Absorption,” so I couldn’t manipulate blood to create clothing. It reminded me of a fairy tale, “Once upon a time.”
Mireille was cradling a large wooden box. She lifted it up and proudly displayed it.
“I made a coffin by hand! It’s my masterpiece!”
“Mireille, have some modesty.”
Just moments before becoming a vampire, she had a serious expression, yet now she seemed considerably cheerful. It was already morning; it was time to sleep. Honestly, her carefree attitude was hard to believe for someone who was supposed to be a natural enemy of humanity.
Carefree and a nudist. Who on earth did she take after?
Mireille quickly ducked behind the coffin, peeking her head out shyly.
“But, Brother-sama, there are no clothes left in this mansion. All my nice outfits are torn.”
It’s not that they’re torn; you ripped them, didn’t you?
“You should just stay in your puppy form.”
“Eh? Brother-sama, I turn into a wolf.”
Mireille’s eyes widened as she spoke, her expression filled with curiosity.
N/A… A wolf is way cooler than a dog! But, right now, I can turn into a wolf too. A long-haired, fluffy white wolf! Why is that!?
With no other choice, I bit off my right thumb. Manipulating the flowing blood, I wrapped it around Mireille’s body, forming a garment of blood.
The “Curse of Blood” I possessed was weak. Perhaps it was because I couldn’t draw from the main source, but it wouldn’t hold its shape for long if I detached it from my hand.
I needed to let Mireille feed on a vampire with the “Curse of Blood” soon… I wonder if all vampires outside of the “King of Stakes” are nudists?
“Yay! Thank you, Brother-sama!”
Mireille, now adorned in blood, squealed with delight as she leaped toward me. I had no memory of raising such an impudent child.
She must be starving for human interaction after being bedridden for so long. In my case, I didn’t feel much due to Lord’s situation, but if Senri were a vampire and had helped me in a similar way, I can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted the same.
Mireille placed her handmade coffin on the floor, grabbed my arm, and pushed me down with surprising strength for someone so slender.
Wait, stop—this coffin doesn’t have any bedding! I appreciate the handmade effort, but a plain wooden coffin is no good! Plus, the nails are sticking out and poking me!
We tumbled together, her delicate bones colliding with my own. Soft flesh brushed against me, and her long hair tickled my cheek. Mireille pressed her ear against my chest as if listening to my heartbeat, then immediately offered her neck, speaking in a sweet voice.
“My beloved Brother-sama, as a thank you, I present you with the coffin and myself! Please, take my blood!”
What on earth did she inherit from? I have no memory of raising such an impudent child! I am devoted to Senri. I won’t cheat.
Mireille squirmed, rubbing against me, her voice laced with embarrassment.
“Brother-sama, that’s naughty!”
“!? That’s a false accusation! Who do you think dressed you?”
I want her to remain the dignified Mireille I know from battle. If this continues… I might be overwhelmed. No, this isn’t right. No matter how much of a vampire she is, this is unacceptable.
…Senri should take a page from Mireille! A handmade coffin and myself as a present? That’s an extraordinary gift.
“Welcome back, End-sama.”
At that moment, Monica returned from her reconnaissance mission, perfectly timed.
Able to fly during the day and use her charm powers, albeit weaker, Monica was far more useful than Oliver, who could only fight and sniff out scents (I could do that too).
Upon seeing Monica return, Mireille’s expression visibly soured. It seemed she didn’t particularly like Monica.
Wrapping my arms around the tightly clinging Mireille, I turned to face Monica.
Having flown in from day and night, Monica looked ragged. While demons have endurance that far exceeds humans, they are clearly inferior to vampires. Dark circles under her eyes and messy hair showed her fatigue. I resolved not to scold her for any lack of achievements.
Clearing my throat, I asked for her report.
“Well done on your return, Monica. Did you find anything?”
“…End-sama. It’s a waste to try to cover it up now.”
Monica pressed her hand to her head as if to stave off a headache, beginning her report in a weary voice.