A bat cloud. Richter von Franzrit sat on the port side of the ship, gazing at the dark night sky untouched by moonlight.
The Blood Pouches whispered in fear, a vulgar expression. The origin of this sacred spell, which even the sun, moon, and any celestial light could not penetrate, lay even higher.
Pathetic creatures. Richter’s red eyes glowed in the darkness. His pale, curly hair fluttered in the night sea breeze. Richter chuckled as he stood up.
-Kyaaaaah!!!!
-Shaaaaah!!!
In response to his movement, his kin, now half-beasts, howled. They were monsters, as if the most evil parts of bats and giants had been combined.
They shook their heads at Richter’s gesture. The hunger and savagery of his kin resonated through Richter’s veins. He grinned wryly.
“Have they come?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good. How are the preparations?”
“Aildern, that old Elf, has handled things quite neatly. Guimerin’s slaves are now trapped in the port, struggling.”
“And the crows? What are they up to?”
The young man who had appeared behind Richter hesitated for a moment. As the answer stalled, Richter’s gaze brushed the young man’s neck. The young man trembled and bowed his head.
“Contact with the Runraven Academy has been lost.”
As Richter frowned, the young man hurriedly continued.
“B-but it’s not a failure! L-look at this earthquake and this magic… this presence, Your Grace. The plan to revive the Dragon must have succeeded. As planned, the vanguard has infiltrated the port thanks to the earthquake.”
“So, where is the Dragon? Guimerin, that old fool’s flagship, can only be damaged by the Dragon’s Breath.”
As the young man hesitated, Richter placed a hand on his shoulder. The young man was startled but dared not shake him off.
“Dawn is near. Son. How much time do we have left? It’s been over an hour since the first earthquake.”
“I-I will… I will personally board the old fool’s flagship. G-give me a chance, Your Grace.”
“Haha, a chance. Son. Son. I’ve always given you chances…”
Richter gripped the young man’s chin and lifted him. The young man’s body hung in the air like a sheet of paper.
“G-gah!!”
“Are you afraid of me?”
Richter’s red eyes filled the young man’s vision. Despite the Vampire’s night vision, darkness obscured his sight, leaving only Richter’s blood-red pupils glowing.
-Kyaaaaah!!!!
The distant howls of the half-beasts faded. The Vampire’s acute hearing could only hear Richter’s voice now.
“Y-your Grace. Your Grace…”
“Yes. Son. If you’re afraid of me. If you fear me.”
“Gah!!!”
-Thud.
Richter’s grip loosened, and the young man rolled on the floor. He lay curled up, gasping for breath. As he barely lifted his head, he saw Richter’s smiling face in the darkness.
“Don’t be afraid of those weaker Blood Pouches. Go. Show the discipline of Franzrit. Kurt von Franzrit.”
“Y-yes, Your Grace!”
-Swish.
The young man nodded hastily and disappeared into the darkness. Richter chuckled as he watched. Soon, he turned his head and whispered toward the sea.
“Go and help him. Board Guimerin’s flagship. I’ll allow seventy-three.”
-Rumble.
-Splash!
From the black ships silently floating on the night sea, corpses and Vampires leaped down. Richter flicked his fingers.
“Zigismund, do you think he’ll succeed?”
“Even a Ghoul wouldn’t think so, Father.”
“Hahaha, right. He’s just bait.”
“Will the Dragon really help us? Do you trust the Runravens that much?”
“Me? I trust no one. Son. If the Dragon doesn’t help us? Will the Elves help? Will the humans? No matter how it rampages, as long as it happens in that port. Everything will go according to my plan.”
-Boom.
From the mast, a giant clad in full armor leaped down. Inside the thick helmet, red eyes resembling Richter’s glowed.
“Even if the port burns to the ground, as long as we can eliminate the Elves, it’s our victory. In this sea, aside from the Elves, there’s no force that can stop my fleet. The Blood Pouches will now fear every sea.”
“Everything will go according to the Grand Duke’s will.”
Richter looked at Zigismund, who bowed respectfully. His eyes twisted with a sadistic gleam.
“Bring Iolande. She deserves it too. The right to watch her husband burn to death.”
“Hehe, she’ll be pleased too.”
Richter chuckled. Watching the burning port with the Elf woman’s wails as background music would be quite an entertaining spectacle.
Her loyalty to the Elven King, even after becoming a Franzrit, was laughable. Richter sneered at Iolande. That woman had remained loyal to the Elven King even after becoming a Franzrit. Ridiculous.
-Rumble…
Far away, beyond the port. A massive earthquake struck. Waves swept across the sea. Richter’s white curls fluttered in the sea breeze. He watched the pillar of fire rising from the port.
-Kwaaaaah!!!!
The pillar of fire momentarily split the night sky in half. Intense flames lit up the entire sea as if it were daytime. The Franzrit fleet…
