In the Castle of the Full Moon, the Progenitor sat in the darkest and deepest inner sanctum. The Progenitor, who had clearly headed to the villa with her beloved, had returned alone for some unknown reason. Faced with Tirkanjaka's terrifying yet sorrowful aura, no one dared ask where her beloved had gone. They merely guessed that he had run away.
Having changed into a different dress for some reason upon her return, the Progenitor Tirkanjaka sat on her throne and swept her expressionless eyes over the Elders.
Elzebuth, Dogo, and Du Lahan. The Elders now standing before her were all those who had plotted or participated in the rebellion. Though they had been suppressed by Baldamir, true to their status as Elders, their bodies had already fully regenerated. Practically no different from defeated soldiers, they awaited their judgment before the Progenitor.
Even in this humiliating moment, Dogo and Elzebuth racked their brains.
They had merely temporarily succumbed to power, but they were Elders. They neither died nor tired. Just now, they had merely been caught off guard by Baldamir and defeated one by one, but gathered together now, if they pooled their strength, they could achieve their unfinished goal...
No, there was. If only it weren't for that ominous shadow rising behind Tirkanjaka.
[Bring him here.]
Elzebuth sensed just how immense a power was packed into that shadow.
The Progenitor Tirkanjaka had poured all the knowledge and power she possessed into it.
The Progenitor, possessing absolute power, had never pondered how to use that strength herself. Instead, the Progenitor had the Elders and the Ains as her limbs. The power and experience that the Elders and Ains had brought back like worker ants. Those techniques and realizations remained intact within the Progenitor. She just couldn't use the realizations gained by her limbs as if they were her own.
Therefore, the Progenitor 'created' a vessel to contain the power and authority accumulated over a thousand years. Instead of her own body, which was difficult to alter arbitrarily, she crammed all her experience and power into a new body crafted from darkness and blood alchemy. As a result, a monster was born, cloaked in darkness, wielding the Progenitor's blood alchemy, and capable of using the power of all the Elders.
[Only the Elder who brings him here shall be forgiven for their sins.]
Elzebuth realized to her very bones. That now, the Elders could not defeat Tirkanjaka. Only Baldamir, who had learned and mastered all the other Elders' powers, could somewhat stand against her... but he had no intention of betraying the Progenitor.
Now that it had come to this, there was only one way to survive. She had to prostrate herself as flat as possible and cater to the Progenitor's whims. Just as Elzebuth was about to obey her command.
"I refuse."
A glove flew towards the Progenitor. It was a glove thrown by Du Lahan. Thrown with tremendous force, the glove abruptly stopped in mid-air before reaching Tirkanjaka. The shadow, having nimbly snatched the glove, nonchalantly tried to put it on.
Boom. The glove could not withstand the shadow's giant hand, nor its immense power. The sturdy leather glove reinforced with iron burst like a balloon. The shadow became dejected looking at the torn shreds.
However, as if the glove's tragedy was none of their concern, Du Lahan and Tirkanjaka glared at each other.
"I have not yet been defeated! If that coward Baldamir hadn't ambushed me, I wouldn't have been defeated so vainly!"
Not claiming he would have won was his last shred of conscience, but it was somewhat true. Even Baldamir had tried to deal with Du Lahan first before joining forces with the other Elders.
Looking at the knight of the past who still refused to admit defeat, Tirkanjaka asked.
[What is your intention?]
"A duel, Progenitor. On behalf of all the knights you have killed, and for myself, who was used by you to slaughter humans for hundreds of years! I challenge you to a duel!"
Du Lahan placed his head back on his neck. Like fitting together a broken statue, Du Lahan twisted his head this way and that.
The headless knight, Du Lahan, used to carry his head around and use it like a mace. If there was an enemy, he fought by directly comparing their strength to his head. People saw it as a symbol of cruelty, but surprisingly, it was Du Lahan's mercy. Du Lahan fought while imposing a restriction on himself where his head would spin round and round.
...However, if there was something even he hadn't expected, it was that this obsession gifted him with a power close to authority. The obsession of swinging his head and his combat sense intertwined, granting Du Lahan a sense of balance that reached the realm of mastery. No matter what bizarre position his head was in, Du Lahan could distinguish up from down and clearly perceive his and his opponent's positions.
His already outstanding strength and skills before death met that sense of balance, ushering Du Lahan into a new realm. If it weren't for Baldamir, he would still be the strongest Elder.
[Is that your intention?]
"Well, yes. I am not afraid of True Death. I'm already a body that has died once, why not twice! But I cannot surrender without even fighting the Progenitor! The reason I couldn't let go of my miserable life even after death was for this very moment!"
Having finally reattached his head, Du Lahan clenched and unclenched his freed hands. Blood energy condensed in his hands and took the shape of large maces.
Just like Baldamir's greatsword. A martial artist wraps their qi around their weapon. Upon reaching the pinnacle, they can feel and use their weapon as if it were their own body. The commonly referred realm of Unification of Sword and Man.
And a martial artist who became a vampire, forges weapons with blood energy that is no different from their own body. Weapons made this way are as powerful as a vampire's flesh.
"You may not be a man... but! If you know honor, accept my challenge!"
Du Lahan had already been defeated once. There was no reason for the Progenitor to accept his challenge. The Progenitor's first sword, Baldamir, could handle it. But Tirkanjaka gestured for Baldamir to step back and looked at Du Lahan.
[I may not know of such things. But I will respect your will. Fulfilling your will must have been the result he desired as well.]
"...Whoever he is, he must be quite a romantic man."
[Not only romantic, but barbaric as well.]
Tirkanjaka smiled faintly while sitting on her throne. Du Lahan clashed his two maces together and pointed them at the Progenitor.
"So. When are you going to stand up? You're not going to accept my challenge while sitting on your throne, are you?"
[That would be fine too.]
"What?"
Tirkanjaka did not move. Instead, the shadow standing behind her stretched forward and abruptly thrust its upper body out. Sensing hostility, the shadow reached out its hand towards Du Lahan as if trying to grab a toy.
Against the shadow's giant hand, Du Lahan swung his mace widely and muttered.
"What a monster! A good partner to warm up with!"
He was a good partner to warm up with.
From the shadow's perspective.
Crunch, crunch.
The shadow was chewing up Du Lahan whole. Broken maces rolled on the floor, and limbs plucked like chicken feathers twitched miserably. The limbs seemed to want to find their torso, but to become one again, they would have to gather inside the shadow's stomach.
Against Tirkanjaka's shadow, Du Lahan fought bravely without stepping back, but the shadow was no longer a being that an Elder could contend with.
The shadow was the aggregate of the vampire race. The monarch of vampires, holding all authority and techniques in one body.
The Progenitor who had scattered her blood and darkness to the vampire race, to the entire nation of the Fog Principality, was no more. Instead of a god, a tyrant sat on the throne and began her cruel reign.
[Why a warning was necessary, I only realized after obtaining the heart. In the end, history repeats itself. Even after becoming vampires, human nature does not change.]
Even while the shadow was devouring Du Lahan, Tirkanjaka sat calmly on her throne.
They say vampires cannot feel emotions, but they do not wish for their existence to be extinguished. Therefore, right now, it was rational not to rashly oppose her like Du Lahan. Dogo and Elzebuth kept their mouths shut for now and followed that rationality.
In other words, the two feared death. Enough to put aside their pride and bow their heads.
[Anyway, one competitor has decreased. This is good news for you.]
And Tirkanjaka had learned how to utilize fear. Just like an ordinary monarch.
[Bring Hugh here. If you wish to flee as you are, I won't specifically stop you, but... for all the time to come, you will have to pray that you never cross paths with me.]
The two surviving Elders abjectly bowed their heads.
***
"Halt. I am the Ain of Sir Du Lahan who guards the gorge, Baron Zenryu. Human, reveal your identity!"
"The Progenitor's beloved."
"!"
Even to Baron Zenryu of the frontier, the news that the Progenitor had taken a beloved had already spread. He looked at my appearance and asked cautiously.
"...Where are you heading?"
"The Military Nation."
"You have a pass, I presume?"
"I don't have such a thing."
Hearing my shameless answer, Baron Zenryu shouted resolutely.
"You cannot pass without the Progenitor's pass! There is no way to prove whether you are the beloved or not, but even if you were, it's the same!"
A principled and natural response. To vampires, humans are livestock. To prevent them from escaping as they please, checkpoints had been set up here and there. Humans cannot leave their designated residences arbitrarily, and if there is an unavoidable reason to travel, they require a vampire's pass.
Tsk. I wanted to slip past secretly, but of course it had to be a vampire. They're guarding it day and night.
The only saving grace is that during the day, when the darkness and fog thin out, a vampire's vision becomes blurred. Just like right now!
"Hilde! Now!"
"Yees~."
Baron Zenryu's neck was severed. Baron Zenryu's head falling to the ground was dyed with sheer horror. No matter how loyal and diligent he was, he hadn't expected a single soldier to suddenly slash his neck from behind.
This too was an ambush only possible because it was broad daylight with the sun shining fiercely. Having brought down Baron Zenryu, Hilde stole his horse, mounted it, and reached out her hand.
"Father! Jump!"
I also kicked off the ground and climbed up behind Hilde. As soon as I got my posture, Hilde spurred the horse on. Unaware that its master had suddenly changed, the horse immediately bolted forward.
If anyone saw this, they might curse us for cutting the throat of an official doing his job and stealing his horse to flee. But that's common sense that only applies when the opponent is a normal person who dies when their head is cut off.
"Catch them!"
Baron Zenryu, cradling his severed head in his arms, began to furiously chase after us.