Volume 3 Chapter 213 The Ruins Of Civilization
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
He headed up the river toward the shadow of a town—or rather, a street—in the distance.
Before confronting Kian’s inner darkness, the banks of the dried river had been nothing but a black, thorny forest. But after crossing the jagged wall of thorns blocking the river’s path, the scenery began to shift. Vast farmland stretched out on both sides, even wider than Ramsey’s wheat fields. Scattered across the land, stone pillars stood evenly spaced—some kind of magical tools. Under the pale light of the white moon, Kian scanned the farmlands diagonally ahead, noting the heaps of dead, bamboo-like plants piled up and decaying.
Not thorns—
Of course, not bamboo either.
Then what were those dried, stick-like plants?
Since they grew near the town, they might be a grain commonly eaten in the Empire of Night, especially within Count Cain’s territory.
”Sir Kian, are those enemies?” Linca asked, her face tight with suspicion as she noticed his interest in the withered plants.
”No,” he said, continuing to walk. “From the looks of it, the riverbanks are farmland. But I’m curious what they’ve been growing.”
”As usual, you’re so composed…” Linca murmured.
”That’s sugarcane,” said a blue butterfly—the Rose Garden Keeper—fluttering in front of them. “It’s the main source of sugar widely consumed in the Empire of Night.”
”Sugarcane?”
”Sir Kian, have you never seen it in person?”
Kian shook his head. “It’s a plant that’s hard to grow in this climate. Mostly cultivated in the southern parts of Azrael. Recently, even in colder regions, relatively easy-to-grow sweet radishes have been used as a sugar source. Because of that, sugar has been flowing into Azrael quite a lot. If you visit a larger city, you can often find tea with sugar and milk sold at bazaars. Did you drink it often?”
Linca shook her head. “The ones with milk seemed to have sanitary issues. And considering my figure, I didn’t want to consume sugar much either.”
”As expected of a female warrior monk. Or maybe it’s because you’re so conscious of your beauty, Linca. In the West, sugar’s extremely popular. Nobles pay high prices to buy it in bulk from southern countries like Azrael. I’m sure Her Excellency Maribel loved almond rice so sweet it made her sick. I was served some when I visited the government office. Honestly, I almost threw up. If I ate that kind of thing every day, my taste buds would be ruined—and my figure would fall apart.”
”In the West and Azrael, everything’s different: lifestyle, health concepts, aesthetic sense—all of it. Especially in our homeland, the Vahid territory, women are considered ideal if they have a slim, toned body.”
”That’s true. People here would say you’re pretty thin—both you and Sarah. You saw the ladies of the Knights who came to deliver the jewels to Ramsey’s castle, right? They think fuller, curvier women are the ideal.”
”Eh, but even so, my body’s made a lot of men all hot and bothered.” Linca glanced down at herself, wrapped in a black Eastern dress. A slender neck, breasts—though smaller than Sarah’s but still rather full for a Westerner—a taut, well-toned abdomen, and a round butt hardened through rigorous training. Her long legs were on full display, barely covered by the short skirt.
A perfect body for bearing many excellent descendants, stimulating primal urges. Probably, Linca had a beauty that transcended racial walls. That was why men from all walks of life found her irresistible.
”It’s not that fat women are popular, but healthy ones—soft to the touch, looking like they could bear strong, healthy children. No man would look at you and think you’re an emaciated, malnourished woman. You look healthy—just look at your complexion, your hair, how you carry yourself. You don’t look like someone who’d die in childbirth, not even to the men here. If anything, most would see you and think, ‘She’s a good woman. I want her to bear my child.’”
”If what Sir Kian says is true, it kinda sounds like he’s eyeing a meat cow or something, doesn’t it? Don’t you look at women more simply—like, ‘Do I want to f*ck her or not?’” Linca teased.
”That’s crude.”
”Well, no one else is listening except for Sir Kian, so…” Linca shrugged.
Still, the fact she could discuss these topics with the appearance of a refined lady was one of her charms. With Priscilla, Natra, and Serena, these conversations wouldn’t happen. If it were Sarah or Rufna, Kian would be the one labeled crude. He sometimes wished he could just blurt out dirty words—cock, pussy, masturbation, sex—whenever the mood struck. But he feared that if he thought that way too much, he might accidentally blurt “Cock!” in response to casual conversation. So, he held himself back.
”I’m here too. I can hear everything properly,” the Rose Garden Keeper chimed.
”Ah, right. My apologies.”
Kian looked at the butterfly and asked, “Rose Garden Keeper, will the night in Count Cain’s territory ever end?”
The blue butterfly fluttered, scattering particles of light as it spun before him.
”Questions are vague. This is another world, so sunlight never reaches Count Cain’s territory. But, judging by your conversation flow, you want to know about when sugarcane was cultivated in Count’s territory?”
”That’s right.”
”The sun rose normally. But vampires were weak against sunlight, so they created eternal night by covering the sky with a ‘night’ barrier.”
”Sounds kinda unhealthy.”
”Sharp observation. Health was always a concern for vampires, who were supposed to be immortal.”
”So, even though they were weak against sunlight, they had health issues because there was no sunlight? That’s a fatal flaw for a living being.”
”There were problems more serious than sunlight. You’d understand everything once you entered Moonshore’s town.”
”You’re being mysterious.”
As they chatted, growing a bit more relaxed, Linca glanced around the remnants of the sugarcane fields lining the river.
”By the way, if you were blocking sunlight with a barrier, how did you cultivate sugarcane?”
”They captured the immortal bird said to swallow the sun, crushed its divine core, and used it as a pseudo-sun.”
”But how did they manage and maintain the fields? From what I can see, there are no remains of work golems.”
”Maybe they returned to the soil?” Kian suggested.
Linca shook her head. “If that were true, then the remains of sugarcane would have returned to the soil as well. This other world probably has a different flow of time than normal. Unless there are microorganisms that decompose only rock-made golems without breaking down sugarcane fibers—that would be a different story.”
”Now that you mention it, that makes sense.”
”They used ‘livestock,’” the blue butterfly said curtly. “The vampires, alongside grazing livestock, had the livestock take care of crops like sugarcane.”
”Sounds like some pretty smart livestock. I can’t believe it, but were those livestock actually humans?”
”──────”
”Seriously?”
”I’ve heard there were human farms in the Empire of Night, so it’s not really surprising.” Linca twisted her face in disgust. “There should be a culture among you that uses intelligent beings as livestock. I don’t understand why you feel disgusted.”
”It’s not that I feel disgusted about making them work like slaves, but I’m put off by the culture of raising and eating humans as livestock.”
”We rarely ate humans. We mainly kept them to drain energy (ki) and to work the fields. As for the weak ones, those with little life force, sure. But for the strong individuals, rather than slaughtering them, we bred them to leave descendants. The owners provided more than enough security for their lives. It was a much more peaceful and happy world than you might think.”
”Different races and cultures have different value standards, huh? So judging things based on our standards might be totally off the mark.”
”We have our own common sense. So what’s wrong with evaluating things based on that? Our ancestors were farmed and eaten, you know? I can show a certain understanding of ancient vampire culture, but it doesn’t change the fact that it feels gross.”
Linca said this firmly. The Rose Garden Keeper let out a faint, almost amused sigh.
”Dear servant. You have a solid sense of your own values, don’t you? Being able to say that what you think is right is right, and what you think is wrong is wrong—that’s important.”
”────”
Linca’s eyes widened in shock. She gasped.
”Linca, what’s wrong?” Kian asked.
”…No. It’s nothing.”
That reaction said it all—something had struck her deeply. Linca had once been a woman full of a strong sense of justice. But having served the Vahid family since she was little, and with the increasing need to say white is black, that spirit had gradually faded. Kian had sensed this when he defeated her, yet it seemed she cared deeply about her broken sense of justice. Still, there was no need to comment on it now. Best to keep quiet until she calmed down. Even Kian, who usually couldn’t read the room, understood that much.
”Thanks to the history of vampires selecting humans, you could say that the strong humanity we have now exists. In fact, dear servant, you possess a powerful strength that can be seen as a result of selective breeding.”
”On the other hand, there are failures like me born as well.”
”Indeed, your value as livestock is low.”
”Heh. I thought you were just a quiet guide, but you’re actually quite an interesting guy.”
”Are you angry? If so, I apologize.”
Kian shook his head gently, still smiling softly at the blue butterfly’s calm words.
”No, I knew my value as a human in vampire society was low, and I don’t care about evaluations from a country that no longer exists. Rather, my curiosity is piqued, and I’m starting to enjoy this.”
”Right. It seems your sensibilities are indeed different from those of an average human.”
”I hear that a lot. —Hey, you said earlier that you hardly ever eat humans, but is that true? Aren’t vampires supposed to be blood-sucking demons? A vampire acquaintance of mine said blood was consumed as a delicacy, though?”
”It wasn’t that they killed and ate them often; the act of taking blood itself was quite common. However, vampires don’t express that act as ‘eating.’ Blood extraction is just blood extraction.”
”It seems like it would be fine to call it ‘eating’ if you’re sinking your fangs into someone’s neck and drinking their blood.”
The butterfly fluttered its wings.
”Such a barbaric way of doing things—you wouldn’t do that. You’d end up drinking blood in its raw form. I think you’ve all tasted your own blood, but if you had normal senses, you’d feel, ‘It’s bad,’ or ‘It’s unsanitary and gross.’”
”Is that so?”
”At least in the Empire of Night, there weren’t many who drank it raw.”
”Speaking of which, Talia said she was bad with blood or something.”
”Most vampires were like that.”
Kian and the blue butterfly followed behind, careful not to fall behind Linca, who charged ahead, ignoring their conversation.
”But human blood was highly nutritious for vampires. They thought it was a waste of resources just to suck the energy and make humans work on farms, so they started cooking human blood before consuming it.”
”Like dairy cows, huh?”
”Exactly. —I talked too much. We’re about to enter the town of Moonshore. The next guardian is in the center of town. You can challenge them, or take a break. It’s up to you.”
The blue butterfly’s words abruptly stopped, and an eerie silence fell again. Linca, who had been leading, returned with a shaky step and grabbed Kian’s left arm. Surprisingly, the cowardly female warrior monk’s courage ran out quickly.
As they silently ascended the river, its width suddenly narrowed. Before them appeared a stone water gate. The blue butterfly climbed from the dried riverbed onto the embankment. On either side, the black thorn shadows had already disappeared.
Crossing the stone-paved embankment, they emerged onto another paved road. The cobblestones were finely crafted, plaster poured between the stones. Compared to the western cities Kian knew or Azrael’s town from fifteen years ago, the roads in Count Cain’s territory—hundreds of years old—were refined. The large sugarcane farms clearly showed that ancient vampires lived in a civilization more advanced than present-day humanity.
Amid colorful, glowing tropical fish darting about, Kian and Linca passed through the massive stone gate of the town. Something was inscribed on the gate using earth magic. The language resembled the common tongue of the West. The characters looked similar yet different, but they guessed it read: “Moonshore’s Town.”
Beyond the gate, a town built solidly of stone stretched endlessly. Towering spires loomed above, and no sign of exposed black soil remained. No plants peeked through the cobblestones. The town seemed inorganic—dead.
Looking at the relatively low stone houses on either side, they walked toward the enormous stone statue standing prominently before them.
”Sir Kian, that…” Linca began—but then she stopped mid-step.
Just as they were about to pass the old statue, she tugged on his arm, halting him. Her finger rose, pointing toward a moonlit building in the far right corner of the square.
”There’s a statue of a woman dressed all sexy. Probably a brōtḥel.”
Kian narrowed his eyes.
”You’re suspicious, noticing the brōtḥel first.”
Still, despite the teasing tone, his gaze shifted to the spot she indicated—a sad reflex of the male condition. Past a weathered sign that marked the place as an inn, he saw it: a sculpture of a woman in lingerie. Only the upper half was visible from this angle, but that was enough to see it was undeniably provocative.
”Sir Kian is looking too,” Linca said.
”That’s because you pointed it out. It’s a natural reaction.”
”Hmmm… but don’t you think the woman’s a bit too fat?” She tilted her head, brows knit in aesthetic concern. “Maybe the men in the Empire of Night had a completely different sense of beauty.”
She had a point. The topless statue was notably plump. Kian, curious now, considered whether it might even be a man—a vampire with so much chest fat that it gave a misleading impression. But no, the face was unmistakably feminine. And beautiful. Clearly, a renowned figure.
Using Count Cain and Talia’s facial features as mental reference points, he concluded: definitely a woman.
”That,” came a voice, fluttering on the air like silk, “was the ‘standard’ female figure in the old Empire of Night.”
A glowing blue butterfly floated before Kian’s eyes, its voice smooth and unhurried.
”They all knew it was technically obesity, but they couldn’t just make a fake statue. The artists had to walk the line between truth and tribute—hence, that form.”
”────”
”But,” the butterfly went on, “that place wasn’t built for sexual services. It was meant for drinking ‘blood wine’—very trendy at the time—and having pleasant conversation with vampire women.”
”A sex-free cabaret, huh,” Kian murmured. “If that body type was considered normal, I’d really like to see what the average physique looked like.”
”Humans and Elves of the time were about 180 cm tall, usually weighing 60 to 70 kilograms,” the butterfly explained. “Men tended to be larger and more muscular. Women? Higher life force—magic power. But vampires… they were 180 cm tall, too—yet weighed between 400 and 500 kilograms.”
”What? Four hundred kilos? How is that even possible?”
Linca’s expression collapsed into sheer disbelief. Kian’s brow furrowed as he tried to wrap his head around it.
The butterfly offered no pause.
”Mostly fat. Muscle mass hovered around 50 kilograms.”
”Could they even walk like that?” Kian asked.
In reply, the butterfly drifted toward an oversized cart abandoned nearby, glowing softly as it passed. It was ornate—clearly not meant for hauling goods. A staircase was attached to one side, built for ease of entry.
”Vampires had bones and muscles far superior to yours. So yes, they could walk—but they often chose not to. It was tiring. They preferred carriages. Shield Cains were popular among horses.”
”Four hundred kilos… That’s like a large Shield Cain itself,” Kian muttered. “How does someone even get that fat? Looking at Ms. Talia’s slim figure, you wouldn’t think her whole race trended that way.”
”Obesity came from diets overloaded with sugar and oil—pushed well past the body’s limits,” the butterfly said. “Blood wine especially—it was dense with nutrients and became a national obsession.”
”Just the name gives me a bad feeling.”
”It’s exactly what you think,” the butterfly replied. “Human blood was poured into a container and spun with centrifugal force. The red layer and the transparent one would separate. The red was then blended with sugar and oil to create a sweet pudding. The transparent layer was gently heated and mixed with sugar-based alcohol and even more sugar. That was blood wine.”
Kian grimaced. “That’s… not what I expected. But now I hate it more.”
”Don’t humans eat pig’s blood in the same way?”
”Well… some regions in the East do,” Kian admitted. “In the West, it’s stuffed into sausage and eaten.”
”Still,” the butterfly added, “you two have probably never gained weight in your lives. So you wouldn’t understand the extent of the obesity problem in the Empire of Night.”
Kian glanced at Linca, who looked back with the same confusion. It was true. Neither of them had ever experienced anything resembling serious weight gain. The idea of becoming a 400-kilo blob was too surreal to imagine. It was hard enough trying to picture that plump statue as a representation of a real woman.
”Count Cain and Talia didn’t seem overweight,” Kian noted. “And neither did the gardener.”
”Is that so?”
”Yeah, though… I’ve only seen Talia up close.”
”Count Cain underwent procedures to remove fat—or had his stomach surgically removed altogether. The scars were later healed through vampire regeneration. He wasn’t alone. Quite a few vampires concerned with their appearance chose similar methods.”
The butterfly returned from the cart, trailing specks of blue light.
”Some vampires, especially military officers serving nobles like Count Cain, had bodies that fit perfectly into the ‘Silver Ice’ armor you’re wearing now.”
Kian frowned. “So when they got too fat, they just… sliced it off? That’s how it worked? Even with regeneration, there had to be limits. Or were they just barely maintaining function with the Restoration Curse?”
”There were limits,” the butterfly confirmed. “The Restoration Curse works by rebuilding the body to reflect the shape of the soul. If the vampire’s soul believed that obese body was its ‘ideal,’ then the curse would merely return them to that compromised form.”
She continued:
”Vampire cells are built to enter suspended animation when their life force runs out. But repeated obesity and excessive surgeries damaged those cells, degrading them. That’s what led to aging in a species that supposedly had no lifespan. Even the Restoration Curse couldn’t fix it.”
”So vampires weren’t invincible immortals after all.”
”In theory, they were immortal. But to actually live long, they couldn’t ignore practical biological decline. Oh, new king of this era, perhaps you didn’t know—but vampires, in the end, couldn’t escape the frailties of long-lived species.”
From the words of the Rose Garden Keeper, Kian could piece together a fragmented, but damning picture. Health issues had plagued vampire society. The Empire of Night had vanished without a trace, and the race itself stood at the brink of extinction. That alone spoke volumes. Obesity wasn’t the only reason for their fall, but a race that averaged 400 kilos per adult? They were never going to win the struggle for survival. The ridiculousness of it all carried an undeniable air of truth.
”I heard Elder Remi Cain could drain the entire Oasis of blood in a single night,” Kian said. “But even pure-blooded vampires had stomach limits?”
”Yes. Their bodies were superior—digestive systems more efficient than yours. And maybe, for that very reason, they were flawed.”
”Guess we should be grateful for bodies that get sick when we overeat,” he muttered.
”That’s right.”
Linca nodded, looking oddly thoughtful. The butterfly shifted tones, its wings pulsing faintly.
”We’ve made it into Moonshore’s streets, just as planned. Should we rest? Or go straight to the next guardian?”
”Let’s take a break, Sir Kian.”
”Yeah. Better to stay stocked up. We don’t know what’s coming.”
”Any building is fine,” the butterfly said. “You’re the only functional intelligences left in this area. All facilities are yours.”
”How about that cabaret over there?” Kian suggested.
”Good idea. If it’s a restaurant, we might find safe food.”
Linca added, firm as ever, “Of course, I won’t touch anything made with human blood. Even if I die.”
”Same here. Not my kind of thing.” He glanced at the dark alleys nearby. “Let’s move fast—before something notices us.”
The blue butterfly fluttered down a narrow alley, its wings sighing with an almost human weariness. Still clasped tightly by Linca’s left arm, Kian followed, eyes on the flickering trail of blue light.
* * *
”This… isn’t just a forest fire.”
Emerging from the morning woods, the acrid scent still hanging in the air, Sarah narrowed her eyes at the scene atop Flower Mountain.
”Lady Sarah, Lady Natra—there’s still heat in the ground. It might be safer to investigate tomorrow or later,” said the red-haired knight, Eleonora, trailing behind her.
Behind Eleonora, the fully armed knights barring the path cast uncertain glances toward Sarah and Natra, echoing their leader’s concern.
”No problem. This level of heat won’t even scorch us,” Sarah replied coolly.
Eleonora hesitated. “I-I see…”
—She’s hiding something. The way the fire spread, this clearly wasn’t natural. It’s man-made. The prime suspects are Eleonora and her group—they were closest. But why burn the mountain? To destroy evidence? Or is this just a smokescreen for something else?—
Turning her back on Eleonora, Sarah continued toward the summit of the scorched Flower Mountain. Natra, walking behind her, kept her eyes on the Sunlightland Knights, voice edged with suspicion.
”By the way, that was quite the roundabout route you took. Wouldn’t the valley path over there have been quicker?”
”Huh? N-no, that’s…”
”We’re heavily armored,” the lieutenant knight stammered, “and descending into the valley only to climb back up again would’ve been… physically difficult. For safety, we couldn’t remove our gear. I apologize for the detour.”
The man was clearly flustered, but Eleonora quickly cut in, voice calm and reassuring.
If Sarah and Natra were the sort to be satisfied with a simple “I see,” that might’ve ended it. But neither was that forgiving.
”Is that so?” Natra said, her tone making her doubt plain.
Sarah said nothing, eyes fixed on the peak, but her wariness toward the Sunlightland knights deepened.
—Let them swim for now. The more they try to cover their tracks, the more we’ll learn.—
”Elder Sister.”
Natra caught up silently, her hand still resting on the hilt of her magic sword.
”They used gunpowder,” Sarah whispered. “This wasn’t just a wildfire.”
”But there’s no smell.”
”…Could’ve been odorless gunpowder. Something developed in the Western countries.”
”You think it’s Umar’s doing? If that’s true, this whole thing is part of his plan.”
”Highly likely. Given his access to gunpowder knowledge and the strategic benefit of the fire, it makes sense. If Arminus dies, Umar’s next—he has every reason to stall us. At least until Oswald escapes from Izerland prison and becomes a ‘cooperator.’”
”But still… setting a wildfire just to distract us? That’s a huge risk for such a small gain. I don’t get Umar’s angle.”
”Neither do I. For now, we treat it as a possibility—not a certainty. What we need is hard proof that Eleonora and her people set the fire. Once we have that, we can pressure them to talk.”
She shot a glance toward a narrow path winding up the mountain—one they hadn’t taken.
”I’ll head for the summit. You take that other route. Eleonora’s clever. Bring the serious-looking lieutenant with you. If you must, get him to talk.”
”Understood.”
Natra nodded once and turned back toward Eleonora’s group.
Watching her go, Sarah suddenly heard the call of an owl and glanced skyward.
—A bird? Ramsey’s message courier. From Rufna, maybe.—
She raised her arm, leather armor creaking as the owl descended and perched. Sarah untied the letter bound to its leg and quickly scanned the contents.
”────”
Her eyes narrowed.
It was from Rufna. Kian’s whereabouts were completely unknown. Linca had vanished too—nowhere to be found in Ramsey.
—Runaways? No. That’s not it. But why would both disappear at once…?—
A bad feeling coiled in her gut. She bit her lip and scanned the area again.
No sign of Silver Ice. No trace of Linca’s remains either.
—Whatever the case, I need to keep investigating. If I can’t uncover anything, all I’ll have is a theory—and no one’s going to move on that alone…—
Notes:
• Count Cain – Talia’s father.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Serena – Wolfmen Girl
• Arminus – Male. Leader of the Black Panther Tribe. Possesses extraordinary physical abilities, enhanced by the tribe’s unique technique that repels energy and magic attacks. His speed and strength surpass those of High Warlord Isthbaran. Wields the magic sword Balmung, capable of cleaving through an ice dragon with a single strike. His black fur provides camouflage in low visibility, making him nearly undetectable. Relationship: Leader of the Beastmen Alliance’s delegation.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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