Volume 10 Chapter 1 Moon Court – The Eighth Otherworld
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”We can’t keep this up. Let’s fall back.”
The woman’s voice cut through the storm above the enemy lines.
Only an ally would call out to her here, high in the sky. Viola turned. The face she saw was familiar—but the blood on her cheek and the weariness in her eyes made her look like a stranger.
It was Mermy, one of the maids of Castle Viola. Her subordinate. One of Viola’s four childhood friends. A member of the vampire maid unit.
Rain clung to Mermy’s wings as she beat them hard, shaking off the water. Her soaked cloak dragged heavily, her skin cold and pale. Viola shivered as the chill bit into her body. Then, Mermy brushed aside the strands of wet hair sticking to Viola’s face.
”The sun’s already up. Once the clouds clear, we’ll burn. Viola, let’s pull out before the storm ends. No one can fly straight anymore—enemy or ally. Besides, this feeling… that’s the Hero, isn’t it?”
Viola crossed her arms, pretending to think for a few seconds.
Even without seeing her, she could sense the Hero’s presence. They’d thought she’d vanished—but she was back. Something didn’t add up.
Viola sighed, tilted her head, and showed both palms.
”Alright, we’re retreating. Tell Lidney and the others to spread the word. That’s it for today!”
Her soldiers responded at once. At the captain’s order, their shadows scattered into the storm, darting through the sky like bats.
Vampires couldn’t stand sunlight. They had planned to retreat before dawn, but the storm had kept them fighting. If the clouds cleared now, it would be disastrous. Better to return while they still could.
Besides, the wind was getting worse. Even vampires couldn’t keep flying in a hurricane. Their thin wings were too fragile against wind and rain. That was the limit.
”Damn it! You bastard!”
”Huh?”
Ignoring the retreat call, a young man kept striking a fallen human soldier. He lifted the body by the collar and swung his fist again. Blood poured from the man’s head—he was already dead. His arms hung loose, his body limp.
”Viola! Where are you going?”
”Go on ahead.”
Getting her troops home safely was part of her job. Viola flew down to the furious half-blood.
Even when she landed nearby, he only gave her a glance.
”What are you doing? We’re pulling out.”
”Shut up!”
He slammed the corpse into the ground. Blood splashed across the mud. Even though the man was long dead, the blows kept coming. The red bled into the puddles, turning pink as the rain thinned it out.
”I’m leaving first. Don’t blame me if you’re late,” Viola said, exasperated.
The man didn’t answer. Up close, she noticed a deep cut across his back. He must have been wounded by a human and snapped in rage.
Viola shook her head. Bringing pride into a battlefield was foolish—but what could she expect?
He glared at her once, then looked away with a click of his tongue, flying off on his own.
”What a pain… sigh. Guess I’ll have to call the others myself.”
If her men died in battle, that was one thing—but if any were captured, it would cause trouble. Viola turned and flew over the empty enemy camp, buffeted by wind.
”…Oh, come on.”
The next voice she heard was a man’s—older this time. While she flew around shouting for retreat, she caught a strange noise from a nearby tent and went to check.
Inside was one of their own. A middle-aged half-blood soldier was holding down a human woman, raping her from behind.
”Seriously? We’re in the middle of a war. We’re leaving,” Viola said flatly.
”Heh, yeah, I know. I’ll be done soon.”
Battlefields drove people mad. Where there were men and women, things like this happened. She understood that much—but to skip fighting just to do this? Ridiculous. Or maybe, hearing about the retreat, he was just trying to rush one in before leaving.
The half-naked woman was limp, her face swollen from the beating she’d taken. Viola could tell she wouldn’t survive this. Men who hit women’s faces during rape always killed them afterward—that was what experience had taught her.
”…It’s easier being alone,” she muttered, lifting off again. She couldn’t stand to watch. She’d meant to check the rest of the area, but her patience was gone. It was time to go.
Vampires were strong—far stronger than ordinary humans. Maybe that was why their pride was so high. They never listened. They did whatever they pleased. Half-blood soldiers were all the same.
Humans loved to look down on others, and that didn’t change even after becoming dampirs. If anything, it got worse. Most of today’s half-bloods had once been human. They knew exactly how weak humans were compared to vampires, and after gaining new power through infection, they couldn’t help but flaunt it. People like that, when given strength, only grew crueler.
In short—they were bullies. Bad people. Many of them had been rotten before turning, or became so afterward. Most of them had joined the army just for the chance to hurt others. Half this troop was made of scum.
Viola sighed. Being a commander wasn’t easy. Today had driven that lesson deep. She was getting used to their defiance, though.
They had fought well through the night, at least. They hadn’t lost, but they hadn’t won either. It felt like failure.
At least the Hero hadn’t come out—that part went as planned. The Hero had stayed behind to guard the sleeping man. During that time, Viola’s troops attacked the surrounding human camps, wiping out several units.
Still, the results were underwhelming. She had wanted to strike the city of Orrid itself, but they only managed to hit the outer camps. There were simply too many enemy troops. They hadn’t captured much treasure or land—only thinned the enemy ranks a little. Far from the success Viola had hoped for.
”Ugh, nothing went right. It was supposed to be a joint attack, but only VioVio’s and KisKis’s units actually moved. And VioVio just flew around without fighting much.”
Because of the confusion in command, Viola herself had barely fought tonight. Their best fighter sitting idle had made everything less effective. The beasts and demons hadn’t joined either. Nothing had gone as planned. She almost wished she hadn’t come.
”Well, if they managed to hold the Lady Hero, that’s fine, I guess. Still weird how she vanished and came back out of nowhere, though. Hope things went better on their end.”
With those tangled thoughts and unfinished feelings, Viola turned back toward home through the fading storm.
Unable to find a clear reflection, Viola dove into the nearest puddle untouched by the wind. The moment her body hit the surface, the world turned upside down.
Light shimmered as if folding inward, and she sank into the world beneath it—into Moon Court. A mirror realm on the other side. A place with no real sunlight, where night never ends.
The rain and howling wind of the wasteland faded away, and her spirit eased at once. But the weight of her drenched clothes pulled her down, leaving her uncomfortable all over again.
She looked up—the sky here was already dark. If the wasteland above had seen morning, then this world greeted night. Stretching her arms, Viola sighed in relief. She was finally home.
”Oh?”
Flying toward her domain, she noticed groups of people gathered in the villages below. Men embracing each other. Women scanning the crowd, faces tight with worry. Elderly folk standing silently, waiting for someone who might never return.
Families of the soldiers—her soldiers—welcoming their loved ones home. All of them dampirs, people who had once been something else—human, elf, beastfolk—before turning. Now, they were citizens of the Mirond territory within Moon Court.
”Ah… hello,” one man said, bowing as she flew past.
Viola smiled brightly, curling her lips into a grin.
”Hey there! Good work today! What a mess, huh? The fight was so-so, everyone’s soaked through. I guess that’s what they mean by luck deciding battles. Brrr, it’s freezing. I just want a hot bath already!”
”Rough day, huh?” the man replied awkwardly.
”Tell me about it. And I’ve still got a bunch of loudmouths waiting to lecture me later. Ugh.”
He laughed politely—forced, but fine enough for a peasant addressing nobility. Others nearby bowed as she passed.
Viola was the lord of Mirond. Though she still looked like a teenager, everyone knew that dampirs’ bodies stopped aging long before their years did. To them, she was a noble who had lived for centuries.
Moon Court was built on nobility. Only nobles could rule—at least, that was how it was supposed to be.
”Tch.”
A quiet click of the tongue reached her ears. She decided to ignore it. Better that way. Keeping her smile fixed, Viola waved cheerfully. “See ya!”
”Ah—wait—ugh!” someone muttered as she lifted off again, deciding to avoid more pointless talk.
But just as she rose, she spotted a familiar man turning to leave. Her brow furrowed. She spun midair and swooped down in front of him.
”Village head!”
”Ah, hey, VioVio. Heard you were off at war. Welcome back.”
”Not ‘welcome back’—when are you going to pay the land rent and market tax?”
She landed right in front of him, hands on her hips, glaring up at the larger man.
”Ah, sorry, VioVio. It’s just… there’s been a lot going on. More folks move in every year, you know? Times are tough. You get it, right? So I just can’t pay yet.”
”You’ve been saying that for, what, two years? If this keeps up, the noble—Eugenie—will confiscate the whole area. You get that, don’t you?”
”Come on, can’t you pull some strings? I’m counting on you! You’re an apostle, aren’t you?”
”I don’t have the luxury to feed freeloaders! We’re at war with the humans. Just paying the soldiers is bleeding me dry!”
Viola scowled. The village head looked away, sighing like the whole thing bored him. Her irritation simmered, but she forced it down.
”You have until the end of the month,” she said coldly. “If you don’t pay, I’ll replace you.”
”…Is that so,” he mumbled, scratching his head, his tone growing darker.
”Y’know, VioVio,” he said, smirking, “you sure you wanna talk like that?”
”What?”
”A lord’s nothing without people. If we all walk out of Mirond, you’ll lose all your tax money.”
”Only you’ll be leaving.”
”Oh, I dunno. My friends might leave too.”
”Huh?”
”Think about it. I’m the one keeping this village together. I’m the one running it. If I go, the people go too.”
”Th—that’s not—”
”—Oi, Viola.”
A deep voice cut through their argument. Viola turned. It was a man with a white beard and a soot-stained apron, his face tough and lined. Even from a few steps away, she could smell the faint tang of hot iron.
”Master!”
”Hey there. How’d the battle go?”
”Ah…”
She couldn’t say it had gone badly. As captain, admitting failure would only lower morale. She hesitated, thinking for a moment.
”…Call it a draw,” she said at last. “The beast and demon tribes were supposed to move with us, but they didn’t. With just my troops, we couldn’t take the city. Still, we did plenty of damage!”
”Is that so? Shame. Those guys are useless, huh?”
”Right? That old Nobdovef geezer said he’d coordinate with us, but he didn’t lift a finger. The demons were hopeless from the start. Always standing back to ‘lead from the front.’ Then they show up only when we’re about to win. Total trash, the lot of them.”
Viola turned—and the village head was gone. He must’ve slipped away while she was talking. She bit her lip, fighting down a groan.
”So,” the blacksmith said, “when can I expect my payment?”
”Ugh…”
Now it was her turn to be cornered. He was the master of the weapons forge—the man supplying arms for the human continent invasion. She’d pushed him hard under her lord’s orders, asking more than she should have.
Mirond was burning through money like never before. It wasn’t a rich land to begin with, and now she’d hired armies, bought weapons, and gathered food. The debts were staggering.
”Just a little longer, okay? I’ll pay as soon as I can. But these dampirs keep skipping their taxes and whining about it!”
”Figures. But listen, kid—no money, no weapons. I can’t make steel from stones. Materials cost coin.”
”Yeah… I know…”
”Viola, you’re young, I get that. It’s hard. But when it comes to money, you’ve gotta be firm.”
”I—I know that! And I’m not young!”
She waved a hand, forcing a grin, and said goodbye with all the charm she could muster. Normally she tried to act mature, but right now she couldn’t help sounding like a sulky kid. It was pathetic, really.
Avoiding her own reflection in the puddles, Viola flew back toward her castle.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone anymore. She just wanted to wash off the grime and bury her face in a pillow until her heart stopped pounding.
”Viola.”
A voice called out again—right in front of the castle gates.
”…Yeah, what is it,” she murmured wearily.
Anyone from Moon Court could tell who he was just by his clothes. A man dressed in the refined garments of nobility—Count Barnea, Viola’s current lord.
”What brings you here today, Count Barnea?” she asked, forcing her tone to stay even.
”Prepare one hundred gold coins,” he said flatly.
”What? Out of nowhere? I don’t have that kind of money!”
”Silence. You said you needed soldiers, so I arranged mercenaries for you. One hundred gold coins. Pay by the end of next month.”
”That’s insane!”
Viola clenched her teeth. She held the rank of baron, but that didn’t mean she was rich. A hundred gold coins—enough to fund an entire town in the Human Continent—was far beyond her reach.
”If you lack gold,” Barnea said, “collect more taxes. Sell off the useless ones.”
”You mean… human trafficking?”
”You’re too soft. You’re poor because you’ve failed to manage your land. Allowing your peasants to fall behind on taxes proves your weakness. Letting them look down on you is a disgrace—to you, and to all nobility.”
Viola stayed silent. So he knew how bad things were in Mirond. She’d always known her title and land were as much a leash as a reward. They were watching her. He likely knew she couldn’t even cover war expenses.
Once, Viola had been human—a poor girl from a farming village. She’d never studied governance. She barely understood how to rule. Her people were unruly, and she hadn’t been able to control them. That much was true.
Maybe she should have learned. But the way nobles taught was cruel—forced labor, torture, slave trade, execution. She couldn’t bring herself to treat fellow dampirs that way. And she refused to accept the idea that “losing people” was fine as long as you could replace them.
With the war draining her land dry, asking her for tribute now was unbearable.
”And I hear,” Barnea continued, “that joyful singing sometimes comes from your castle.”
”…Excuse me?”
He gave her a sharp look.
”You let your servants sing? What kind of noble are you? You are an apostle, entrusted with a castle and land. Even someone as young as you should at least imitate your betters.”
His eyes narrowed.
”The castle belongs to the nobility. Servants are tools. Do not let them play. If they desire freedom, send them outside the gates. Do not blur the lines of rank.”
”…I’ll be careful,” Viola said stiffly.
In his world, only nobles counted as people. Those who served were nothing but tools. That was the rule—and those who broke it faced punishment. If that was Moon Court’s culture, there wasn’t much she could say.
But she couldn’t ignore it, either. Even if she wanted to curse him and flip him off, she had to smile instead.
”The one who sang,” Barnea said, “kill them at once. Display their head outside your castle today. If you show mercy, I’ll do it myself—slowly.”
His mouth twisted into a vile grin. Viola looked away, jaw locked tight, every muscle straining to suppress her fury.
She knew what he really wanted—her maids. The vampire nobles lived long, and long lives bred hunger for pleasure. They all shared the same lust—men and women alike.
She knew some, like Rugandia, kept their subordinates hidden to protect them. Most dampir servants were passed around between noble houses, forced into “service” in every sense. They insulted them with words but wanted their bodies all the same.
Viola had been the same target once. Only her apostle’s power—and her unsettling eyes—had spared her.
When she’d first come to Moon Court, some nobles had even suggested putting a sack over her head and using her as a sex slave. They’d spoken of apostles and nobility, but their eyes had only seen her body.
That was the kind of world this was.
”…No need for executions,” Viola said at last. “The one who was singing was me.”
”I heard it was a servant’s voice.”
”Then someone was mistaken. None of my girls even know any songs.”
”Hmm.”
Her glare sharpened. Barnea hesitated, then stepped back. He knew too well—if Viola lost her temper, he’d be the one to die. Apostles were not to be provoked.
Still, he gave her a final, scornful look—his gaze lingering for one revolting moment at her hips—before turning away.
”…Disgusting,” Viola muttered. “Die.”
She watched him go, staying silent until he disappeared from sight. Her whole body trembled with restrained rage.
The apostles were powerful—far above any noble. The nobles were the elite among dampirs, but apostles surpassed even them. If she truly wanted to, she could crush them with ease.
But they knew she wouldn’t. If she attacked a noble, every noble in Moon Court would unite to execute her. No single apostle could fight a thousand vampires alone. Even the strongest warrior would tire eventually. Power meant nothing if the whole world turned against you.
What protection, she thought bitterly. All they did was leer and bleed her dry.
She watched Barnea’s figure fade into the mist, then finally went inside her castle.
Her anger faded into something tighter, heavier—a hollow ache in her chest.
Inside, she caught her reflection in the mirror by the entrance. She looked awful. Not like a soldier home from war, but a prisoner just released from a cell. Her eyes were dull, her face pale.
The Hero had vanished—and returned again. What was happening out there? Something wasn’t right. She didn’t know what was going on anymore. Was KisKis okay?
She tried to focus on the battlefield, to shift her thoughts—but they refused to settle. Back in her room, she dropped onto the bed with a soft thud.
Ugh. So tired. She was doing her best—couldn’t someone appreciate that for once?
Viola let out a long, heavy sigh. She covered her face with both hands and sat hunched over.
She couldn’t find her usual spark. The cold stares of her people, the nobles’ leering eyes, the distance even her own kind kept— She was used to all of it. The demons and other races had always been unreliable allies. The results of battle were disappointing, but the war wasn’t over yet.
It was fine. This was normal. She could handle it. So why did it hurt so much? Why did her heart feel so heavy? Why couldn’t she lift her eyes from the floor?
”Viola? Are you in there?”
A knock startled her. She lifted her head. That voice—warm, familiar, the kindest sound in the world.
She quickly grabbed a towel and wiped her face. Then, running to the door, she pulled it open. Normally that person would just walk right in. Why knock this time, and wait?
When Viola opened the door, she forced the brightest smile she could manage. There was only one person she couldn’t let see her looking miserable.
”Yah-hoo!! RugRug! I missed you! Sorry though—was hoping to greet you as the super adorable, flawless VioVio, but I’m a total muddy mess right now, so forgive me!”
”I’m a mess too, idiot. And yeah, I heard the yelling outside. I already warned Lidney and the others.”
Viola tilted her head, then clapped her hands in realization. Ah. The singing. Everyone hummed a little tune now and then, but Lidney was the biggest music lover in the castle.
”Oh, right. Sorry about that! But you know me—our motto here is freedom! Don’t stress about it!”
”You should stress about it. The report came from one of the villagers. Probably one of those jealous women again. I told you people were talking, didn’t I? Such a pain.”
Rugandia waved a hand dismissively. There were villagers who despised her and the other castle maids, and Viola had heard the rumors too.
Normally, dampirs could never become nobility. Viola’s noble title existed only because she was an apostle. But in Moon Court, a dampir becoming an apostle was a dangerous thing. That was why she’d been made into this—hidden, rebranded, recast as a “noble” by name alone.
To keep up the illusion, she’d had to hire servants—her childhood friends from Sand Village: Rugandia, Lidney, Mermy, and Linaria. The vampire maid squad, all named by Viola herself. Filling her castle with familiar faces wasn’t just comfort—it was protection.
But the villagers didn’t see it that way. Most people in Moon Court lived in forced poverty. Just look at Count Barnea—his cruelty trickled down through every layer of society. A castle job was one of the few ways to escape that life. So, when Rugandia and the others landed those spots easily, the villagers’ envy turned toxic. Maybe they thought that if they dragged them down, they could take their places instead.
”So,” Rugandia asked, “you took a while getting back. Talking to someone before the Count showed up?”
”Yeah. I stopped by the forge. Had to talk to the blacksmith.”
”Figures. Someone asked me again today if you’re really a dampir. I told them dampirs can’t be nobles.”
”…Again? Why does this keep spreading?”
Rumors that Viola was a dampir had been floating around for a while now. No idea how something so secret had leaked. But once the whisper started, it never stopped.
The nobles were merciless. But even if a dampir ruled, that wouldn’t make it better. Moon Court’s system assumed that all nobility were true-blood vampires. Those bitten by the true ancestors became dampirs, their minds altered by ritual infection. That process embedded fear of their masters deep in their instincts. That fear kept the hierarchy intact.
Viola didn’t have that fear. She was a dampir, but not one bound to any ancestor. If her people ever learned that their “noble” lord was really one of them…
”This isn’t good, honestly,” Rugandia said quietly. “If this gets worse, there could be a revolt—or at least a mob.”
”Yikes. Yeah, that’d be bad.”
Viola could probably crush an uprising by herself if she had to. But that wasn’t the real problem. If a rebellion broke out, the other nobles would blame her. They’d punish her brutally. No way they’d let it slide.
”You can’t, uh, lower taxes or something?” Rugandia asked.
Viola shook her head. Lower taxes would make people happier—same in every world—but…
”Nope. They warned me not to. If Mirond taxes are lighter than the others, everyone would move here and mess up the balance. Plus, I’ve got too much tribute to pay already.”
”Right, that whole ‘hundred gold coins’ thing. Totally insane.”
The oppression didn’t stop with the peasants. Even Viola and her kind were squeezed dry by the higher nobles’ demands. A hundred gold coins—impossible. Mirond’s taxes couldn’t produce that even in several years. Paying the soldiers had already left her broke. At this point, she’d have to raid human cities again just to make up the difference. And most of that money would probably end up in the soldiers’ pockets anyway.
”So exhausting,” Viola groaned. “I’m so done with this.”
”Viola…”
Her eyes lowered before Rugandia’s voice lifted them again. Viola poked both cheeks with her fingers and forced a grin.
”Just kidding! I’ll be fine! Totally fine!”
Her voice rose, cheerful and defiant. “VioVio’s the wicked queen who makes even crying kids shut up! Moon Court’s number-one monster! If I need money, I’ll just take it from the humans. They can’t even defend against sky raids! That storm ruined everything this time, but next round’s gonna be a breeze!”
”Viola… don’t push yourself.”
”I’m fine, really. Don’t make that face. Worst case, we’ve got KisKis on our side!”
Viola’s world was far from kind. But she had one pillar of hope—Kispe Shisa. The woman who had freed her.
After Count Trenton, her first master, was killed by Parl, Kispe had intervened. She’d protected Viola and her friends from being sold or slaughtered.
Kispe was proud, obsessive, and dangerously playful—the kind of woman who mocked and broke men who tried to dominate women.
When Viola had first been taken from Sand Village, the nobles had fought over what to do with her—an eleven-year-old girl with a rare charm ability. Most of them just wanted her body. Some even wanted to bathe in her blood. But when Kispe stepped in, the entire court froze.
Her Cursed Eye of Charm was infamous. She had the power—and the cruelty—to make any man die humiliated, stripped of dignity. To the vampire nobility, she was the ultimate terror.
To Viola, she was the most beautiful, most dependable friend in the world. If anything went wrong, Kispe would handle it. Viola believed that completely.
”Ugh, I feel gross. Can I take a bath already?”
”It’s ready. Go ahead. Once everyone’s cleaned up, we’ll talk battle plans.”
”Okay!” Viola chirped, grabbing a towel and dashing off down the hall. Her laughter echoed against the cold stone walls.
Just like always—bright, loud, and full of life. Even if her smile had to hide everything else.
Notes:
• Mermy – A dampir maid and Viola’s childhood friend first appearing during the Orrid sky battle. Urges retreat as sun rises to avoid burning. Serves as Viola’s subordinate in the vampire maid unit. Loyal ally with no other known relations. Calm and dutiful.
• Lidney – A dampir maid of Castle Viola, mentioned as music lover warned for singing after Count Barnea’s visit. One of Viola’s four childhood friends and servants. Works under Viola with Rugandia, Mermy, and Linaria. No other known relationships. Cheerful and carefree.
• Orrid – Southern pleasure town near Conro, known for its chaos and vice. Serves as Brigante’s next destination and Count Grasso’s sphere of influence. Rumored den of spies and mercenaries.
• Eugenie – A noble overseer of Mirond mentioned in tax context as higher authority above Viola. Threatens confiscation if villagers fail to pay. No personal link noted. Strict and bureaucratic.
• Nobdovef – An elder leader of the beast tribes mentioned as failing to coordinate with Viola’s forces during the Orrid raid. No personal ties shown. Unreliable commander.
• Count Barnea – A vampire noble first appearing at Mirond Castle after the Orrid battle. Demands one hundred gold coins from Viola to fund mercenaries and orders execution of a singing servant. Cruel superior to Viola. No other relations noted. Arrogant and predatory.
• Rugandia – Human maid from Sand Village appearing before Croce Estate’s fire, assigned by Sylvia’s father as her loyal, diligent servant.
• Linaria – One of Viola’s four childhood friends and maids of Castle Viola, not directly seen in scene but named among the vampire maid unit. Serves Viola loyally since Sand Village days. No other relations stated. Quiet and dependable.
• Count Trenton – A vampire noble who abuses converted villagers, killed by Parl’s revived corpses. Cruel and lustful, targeted by Viola for revenge.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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