EP.52 The Blood Lord and Vassal
It seemed the intruder hadn't properly worn a parachute. The glimmering light was still approaching, but before that, a heavy crash—thud—rang out. Blood splattered a few steps away and touched my feet.
However, neither I nor the vampire was worried. If the opponent was what I thought it was, this level of injury wouldn't even count as an injury.
The opponent was a vampire. Even if spilled water can't be gathered back, spilled blood can be returned—an immortal existence.
A cracked head and flowing blood would quickly be restored, and he would stand up... I waited for him to rise, but.
"Huh? Why isn't he getting up? He can't seem to come to his senses."
"Ah. I forgot for a moment."
The vampire waved her hand. Then the blood that had been creeping toward the vampire was pushed back toward the intruder.
The difference in dominance over blood was overwhelming, so the vampire's pull on the blood was stronger than the intruder's survival instinct. The vampire took the opportunity to push all the blood back inside and even sealed the wound.
Thanks to reclaiming his blood, the intruder regained consciousness, and then—
"This pull of blood, this is definitely!"
With a noisy clamor, the intruder raised his head. Beyond the darkness, a red—but slightly duller than the vampire's—light flashed.
Ecstasy, awe, worship, rapture.
Fierce emotions surged like waves. The intruder glared wide-eyed, then ran as if crawling across the ground and prostrated himself before the vampire.
"Progenitor!"
The vampire showed not a hint of agitation, as if a stranger approaching and suddenly kneeling was quite familiar. While she stared steadily, the intruder sobbed.
"Progenitor! This unworthy Finlay has come to see you. Please, forgive me for disturbing you in your seclusion!"
Thud—the intruder smashed his head. Blood flowing from his torn skin headed toward the vampire, but when she cast a slight glance, it scurried back to its owner as if startled.
The vampire commanded the prostrate intruder with cold eyes.
"Finlay. Explain yourself."
Higher blood.
Stronger authority.
Before the Progenitor, a vampire who is not the Progenitor is truly nothing. Their power to dominate blood all originates from the Progenitor.
Moving blood, speaking, living—all of it occurs under the Progenitor's implicit permission. If the Progenitor merely gestures, in that moment, they would lose all control over their own blood and become a single meal.
Therefore, the Progenitor was something beyond gods to vampires.
What was a lightly tossed remark from the Progenitor was received as a royal decree—no, a revelation—by the intruder. The intruder immediately raised his voice.
"Yes. The one who made me his vassal is Count Erte, and he is a direct descendant of Blood Duke Baldamir. While gathering intelligence on the Principality's orders, I heard news from someone and came, having a request to make of the Progenitor."
Blood Duke Baldamir.
The Archduke of the Mist Principality, and the only vampire whose identity and location have both been revealed. The Holy Empire Church's arch-enemy. And the most noble Elder.
He was such a colossal figure that his name was used as a synonym for vampire, but—
"Baldamir. That child. It's been a long time since I heard that echo."
The Progenitor, who referred to such a being as one would call a child, looked off into the distance and asked.
"So. Is that child doing well? Is he still intoxicated with playing king?"
To some, he was a king, an absolute monarch, a ruler.
But to the Progenitor who had watched him when he was a youth full of dreams, he remained exactly as he was in that moment.
The intruder momentarily faltered, unable to accept that gap.
"The, Blood Duke Baldamir, as 'that child'..."
'No, the Progenitor is the one who personally made the Blood Duke her vassal. I am facing a legend right now, a myth. Get a grip, Finlay! I can't show a confused figure in this glorious place!'
The intruder, having whipped himself, gathered his wits and bowed his head again.
"Yes! He is well. Blood Duke Baldamir, the de facto king of the Principality, stands in an unprecedented position compared to any other time!"
"He must have worked hard. The Holy Empire Church wouldn't have just watched."
Who could dismiss the achievements of the Blood Duke, who declared he would build his own nation in this world and accomplished it through heroic endeavors, as simply 'hard work'? If an ordinary person said so, they would be reproached for irreverence.
However, only the Progenitor, who had experienced the same war, lived through the same years, and once dreamed the same dream, could evaluate him.
Newly realizing this, the intruder moistened his dry lips.
'Right. This one is the absolute being. The one who created us, fulfilled our aspirations, and would gather us as one to lead us to glory! I am standing before such a one right now! So, I cannot let this opportunity slip by!'
As if trying to swallow saliva, the intruder's Adam's apple bobbed. Though he produced no saliva, the habit from when he was human remained.
That much was the intruder, thoroughly tense and expectant, opening his mouth.
"Progenitor! Recently, the Holy Empire Church's momentum is not what it used to be."
Finally, the main point. The reason this intruder had endured all hardships to fall into this place.
The intruder looked at the ground and shouted loudly.
"Mysticism has shed its veil, and divinity has faded. The Holy Empire Church is wrapped in dogma and making enemies on all sides—it is as if the celestial gods have abandoned them. Or perhaps, such false gods never existed from the start."
Unpackaged hatred bared its fangs.
The intruder, though the target of hatred was on the other side, realized he had been too emotional before the Progenitor and quickly adjusted his expression.
"Regardless, they have stirred up too many matters on all sides, and now it's time to bear the karma they've accumulated. Naturally, it would be proper for us nobles of the night to shoulder that axis. For the coming day, we must prepare to exact blood debts, prepare to wage a blood war."
"War."
A brief thought crossed by. Sorrow, reluctance, unease, loathing.
In stark contrast to the elated intruder, a sunken and gloomy emotion.
The temperature difference between these two seemed, on the surface, to be the difference between the post-war generation and the war generation in how they viewed war.
The vampire slightly parted her lips.
"Is that, the will of all the children? Do they all desire war?"
For a very brief moment, the intruder conflicted. It wasn't a lie, but whether to speak with a little self-interest, or to tell it exactly as it was.
However, the hierarchy between vampires was that of king and monarch, and more. A vampire cannot resist a vampire of higher rank. The gap that determines life and death was perhaps even wider than the relationship between a devotee and a god.
Gods neither birthed humans, nor can they control them. They cannot take lives in an instant like a commanding officer.
But the Progenitor can do all of that. She created vampires, can move them, and can annihilate them with a single gesture.
In the end, the intruder bowed his head and told the truth.
"No, it is not. The other Elders, including Blood Duke Baldamir, have indicated that without the Progenitor's permission, they will absolutely not wage war."
However, the intruder added softly, wearing a smile inflated with expectation.
"To put it another way, if the Progenitor merely says the word, we will prepare for war."
The vampire's expression hardened.
Those words meant that preparations for war were nearly complete.
Weapons, power, troops, resolve.
Even the opponent for war was prepared, meaning they would sound the war horns the moment the Progenitor's permission fell.
"It is such an era. A time when everyone is stockpiling power, preparing weapons, gathering their wits, and nurturing hatred toward each other. Everything is prepared. Progenitor, if only you come. We need you, who lack a single focal point."
With those final words, the intruder bowed his head reverently. Waiting for the answer that would follow.
The vampire said nothing. Silence once again descended upon the abyss. The two vampires, who needed no breath to live, no saliva to swallow food, no pulse to circulate blood, stood fixed as if nailed in place. So still that one would believe a photograph had been cut out.
A stillness as heavy as the darkness itself.
The one who made a sound there was—
『Actively stop it.』
Only the golem, delivering the directive in a tiny voice as if shoving a microphone into my ear.
『It is not yet time to start a war. The Progenitor must not rise yet. I request of you. Actively stop it.』
Not yet, not yet. A rather interesting choice of words.
More than that, to have to intervene in a conversation between two vampires. Isn't that asking too much of an ordinary manual laborer?
I would have ignored it if I could, but for some reason, the flow wasn't bad right now.
"Well, now. That's enough."
I strode forward.