A lady was enjoying the cool night on a terrace bathed in moonlight.
She indulged herself in the pleasant warmth of the summer night breeze, seated gracefully in an elegant garden chair as she waited for the crescent moon to reach its fullness, savoring its splendor.
She was a woman who seemed to be the embodiment of moonlight falling upon the earth, exuding elegance.
Her slender yet harmonious figure possessed an indefinable balance: not too tall and not leaving anything to be desired, symbolizing motherhood in perfect accord with her overall form.
Her delicate neck supported a face of gentle features, adorned by dove-blood-colored eyes. The melancholic hue in her lashes added an indescribable beauty. Her beautiful hair, said to be woven from the night itself, was loosely braided and flowed gracefully in front of her body. Combined with the deep azure gown she was wearing, she resembled the waning third-day crescent moon, a vision of feminine perfection.
She disregarded the goblet of wine set beside her and instead gazed intently at her own hands—a sight resembling the tranquil expanse of virgin snow. More precisely, her gaze rested on the ruby-encrusted ring adorning her ring finger.
The ring was mysterious. While the exquisite filigree of divine silver in its base was remarkable, the large gemstone set within it would defy identification even by the most accomplished gem merchant.
The elliptical gem, with its delicate yet bold cut, held a color deeper than blood yet not quite black—an indescribable shade of red. It wasn’t the vivid red of a fine ruby nor the dark red of a garnet.
If anything, it was closest to a red spinel, yet mysteriously, the gem glimmered at regular intervals. And strangely, this happened without any inclination from its holder or any change in the lighting provided by the moon or stars. Its glow persisted without interruption, in a rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat.
As the lady gazed at the continuously glowing gem, she let out a soft sigh of rapture.
For how long had she been entranced by the gem when suddenly its frequency of gleaming increased.
Her once melancholic gaze now sparkled with joy, and a breath of delight escaped her lips.
Just as she was about to voice her joy, it arrived.
One bat. No bigger than a palm, its face somewhat cute yet unmistakably that of a flying creature not of birds. One emerged from the night, followed by another and then more until a vast number of them silently gathered before the woman.
In the blink of an eye, the bats swirled chaotically like a storm before converging into a singular point and vanishing.
There, where the storm of bats that were darker than the night had dispersed, stood a shadow—a figure akin to death walking on two legs.
Clad impeccably in a high-collared black garment, with a sinister long black sword and a plain one-handed sword at his waist, his appearance, including his grand overcoat, was similar to that of the castle’s guardsmen. Yet, his presence was deeply ominous.
His pale face, devoid of color, possessed a touch of innocence yet emitted an eerie air of death. From the corners of his mouth protruded fangs, which, rather than being concealed, were proudly displayed, exuding the unmistakable scent of blood.
Fear not, for there before a weeping child stands the “vampire,” the monster whispered about in folklore to educate the masses—there it was.
With hair as pale as the moon, matching the seated lady’s in style, the man approached her in a leisurely manner and knelt with a sweeping motion of his cloak.
“I appear to fulfill your command, my liege.”
The voice that infiltrated the serene night was akin to the night breeze itself, carrying a soft tenderness that made the woman smile as she gently placed her hand on his bowed head.
“Your efforts have been great, my servant. How did the mission unfold?”
Without raising his head, the man reached into his bosom and offered a piece of fabric. It unwrapped to reveal two rings and a bundle of differently colored hair.
“This belongs to the king you commanded me to invite and his royal prince.”
The rings were signet rings, symbols guaranteeing the authority and legitimacy of their owners, granted long ago by the Threefold Empire. And the hair bundled alongside quietly confirmed the identity of the owners.
The implications of these items being here together left no need for further explanation.
“So, thank you for your efforts. Let us welcome His Majesty and His Highness to my empire. Please make yourselves at home.”
She gently rewrapped the bundle and placed it on the table, maintaining her smile as her gaze shifted to her servant.
“Truly, your efforts have been great, Erich. You may rise now?”
“What an honor.”
Upon being granted permission, Erich von Wolf, knight of the Threefold Empire, stood and returned a smile to his master, Empress of Compassion Constanze I.
“And how did this mission pan out?”
“Not much, really. The dragon ship assault had a significant effect. If I were to travel with subordinates whose vitalization is quicker, we could topple a mid-sized fortress in less than half a turn. I recommend increased production and training. It’s quite painful without practice, and fire is always difficult to handle.”
“Yes, I’d say the tactics seem a little harsh, but if they’re effective, that’s all that matters. Let’s take this up as a formal agenda in the council next time.”
While announcing this as if her underlings hearing it would turn ashen and beg her to reconsider, Cecilia nodded in a fashion indicating she didn’t quite understand.
“Will this resolve things?”
“Probably not.”
Cutting through his mistress’ worried words, the vampire glanced up at the crescent moon and sighed.
“Judging by the supplies we’ve gathered in the castle and the information we’ve heard from ‘them,’ several contingencies must have been set in place. This battle is no small matter.”
“Hmm…”
If someone had been there to hear the Empress’s sorrowful muttering, they might have sacrificed everything to drive her sadness away. Though doubtful such a melancholic countenance deserves praise, one couldn’t deny she bore her melancholy with exceptional grace—possibly unmatched in the empire.
“…I was hoping that things would proceed smoothly so I could finally abdicate and transfer the headship. But, alas.”
“All our plans have come to nothing. The world works in strange ways.”
For some time, the empress had been engaged in political maneuvering behind the scenes. She intended to retire gracefully, transfer the imperial throne to promising members of the Baden lineage, and—though considerable resistance was anticipated—hand over the headship to a talented family member before entering the clergy. However, all her plans had unraveled.
For as long as she had been on the throne, she had gained immense popularity among the people. Moreover, she had an uncanny knack for motivating others. Her charisma was so strong that numerous courtiers were willing to die for her with absolute loyalty. Because of this, political diplomacy had gone well up until the point of abdication, but giving up her headship proved too challenging. When a hundred families knelt and pleaded for the Empress to maintain the tranquility of her reign after the great hardship, she was cornered.
Cecilia was not as detached as her father had been in many ways.
And now, with everything ruined, she had sent her cherished servant into battle to expedite the resolution—but the will of a great nation proved too formidable. A single victory was insufficient against such power.
Their opponent was an ancient power that had jostled with the Threefold Empire for centuries through satellite states. They had devised strategies that could adjust for initial setbacks.
It was only logical. If one strategy’s collapse could dismantle the entire plan, war should never even be attempted.
In diplomacy, the moment to draw swords arrives only when the outcome of killing is assured.
“Will this drag on?”
“…Forgive me for causing such trouble with my inefficiency. All of this is due to my own inadequacy”.
“No need for such formalities, Erich. I wasn’t counting on you to single-handedly turn the tide of this battle.”
This was not the Age of the God nor was there a single hero capable of altering the course of war. Putting this servant into action would bring about tactical victories.
But it wouldn’t lead to direct victories. Even if excellent pieces, like dragon riders, knights, could control parts of the battlefield, they couldn’t disrupt the entirety of the war’s structure any more than pieces on a chessboard.
“…However, you seem to have overdone things. That stench is overwhelming”.
“Ah… Well, His Majesty requested a spearhead, and I guess I got too carried away”.
Yet, she knowingly moved the piece. A powerful, irreplaceable piece. No matter how carefully cherished, a piece has no meaning unless placed on the board, despite the inherent risk of losing it.
Still, this piece had gone too far. The blood’s aroma, so intense that even a vampire’s sensitive nose detected it, was unusual.
Ordinarily, vampires within the Threefold Empire rarely indulged in blood-drinking for the sake of propriety and etiquette.
But this man unabashedly justified his actions with “it’s more efficient this way” and sipped blood with his fangs—revitalizing himself with the gained strength through advanced techniques that disregarded life in essence, hammering irrationality into the enemy.
His combat style—reckless to the point of accepting mutual destruction with the enemy—relied on the undead’s revival mechanism to achieve the impossible. The more evenly matched the opponent, the more ruthless this approach became. In cases where the opponent was of equal undead status, it provided even greater advantage because of Erich’s disregard of appearances when replenishing blood.
Thus, the master lamented why vampires became such notorious subjects of folk tales designed to terrify children.
“…Lift your neck”.
At the somewhat weary command, the servant rose with a joyful expression and began unbuttoning the collar of his high-collared shirt.
The pale, death-like skin gleamed under the moonlight. The strong smell of blood, detectable only by vampires, stirred Cecilia’s saliva as she exposed her fangs.
Blood-sucking amongst vampires was unconventional. However, between a servant and their master, such occurrences were exceptionally permitted.
There was more to vampire blood-sucking than merely quenching the thirst imposed by the Sun God’s curse. It involved assimilating souls via the blood, converting them into power. Consequently, the master’s blood given initially could dilute over time.
Eventually, the servant would no longer be bound as such but evolve into a different kind of vampire.
There were two ways to prevent this. The master could either offer more blood or extract it.
To ensure a created servant never strayed, it was a known technique for the master to draw blood. Yet, in an empire where vampires had become ashamed of blood-sucking, this practice had nearly vanished. After all, the culture now valued ensuring their servants remained dependent, devoid of any sentiment about their independence.
But the servant willingly offered his neck, and the master accepted it.
Since the terrace was commanded to be off-limits to others, Empress of Compassion hesitated not in unleashing the instincts of her hidden vampire nature. She bared her fangs and, without hesitation, allowed her pearl-like weapons to pierce her servant’s shoulder.
Great joy danced within her mouth. The servant’s blood, brimming with immense magical power, flowed willingly, even eagerly, into its master. The servant’s trembling in gratitude showed he didn’t mind his stored strength being drained, reveling in the act of being drained by his master.
Such profound unity existed nowhere else. Sharing life, and in return, receiving life divided. Thus, their bond was strengthened, endlessly reinforcing each other.
Erich realized something upon becoming stronger as a vampire. Perhaps one day, the relationship between a servant and a sovereign might fade.
And he made his decision. Persuading his master, he committed to serving her as his sole sovereign, forever.
After an earnest but somewhat impatient negotiation, this intimate scene quietly became a recurring ritual.
It seemed that whether master or servant, both were susceptible to human weaknesses.
The joy of offering blood shook this relatively young vampire. Witnessing his master’s inability to endure the pleasure of blood sucking—pleasure that flowed both ways—clouded the distinction between who the true master was.
This was supposedly done for tactical reasons alone, yet he had even frozen his own heart with magic, presenting it as a divine sacrifice.
“…Erich, aren’t you just pretending to make me suck blood because you want me to?”
“Far from it. To trouble my emperor with my own pleasure is too audacious”.
“Indeed, you’re very convincing… I’ll have a little more”.
“Of course. Please indulge to your heart’s content”.
The servant bowed respectfully once the master paused. Understanding the teasing, he grinned like a young girl pouting at her jest and watched the gem-like heart in her bosom glow softly… …
【TIPS】 True destruction for vampires comes from divine blessings that annihilate the undead, fatal death under the sun, and the destruction of their hearts by silver weapons.
Who the hell let this lord-servant relationship spiral so out of control?!
This little interlude came about because of the structure of the story and some issues in my personal life, responding to the critique asking why Cecilia and Erich weren’t being more affectionate last time.
I’ve been trying to push ahead into a more mature direction, so after writing and deleting multiple drafts, I missed my usual weekly update goal and decided to push this one out.
With the industry’s busy season approaching, I don’t know how things will turn out from here…
I humbly request your patience and indulgence for now.
