Volume 10 Chapter 74 Settlement
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Honestly, you are still nursing significant injuries, so you mustn’t exert yourself so recklessly,” Princess Kuzuha said, her tone steeped in elegant, restrained reprimand.
”Okaaaay!” the Golden Cat-folk girl chirped with bubbly enthusiasm.
In this otherwise parched, desiccated world, a strangely tender and soft scene was unfolding. The little Golden Cat-folk girl sat down primly on the ground, while a black fox-girl stood just behind her, gently running a comb through her hair.
A beastkin soldier marched up to the clearing, snapping into a crisp salute. “Lady Kuzuha. The suppression of the frontal forces has reached near-total completion, ma’am. The sole remaining point of resistance is that ancient, sinister fortress.”
”Thank you for your diligent service,” Princess Kuzuha replied, offering a polite nod.
Shoring up the horizon directly ahead of them was a massive citadel constructed in the distinct architectural style of humans. Kuzuha narrowed her eyes, peering up at its towering, weathered parapets.
The soldier shifted his weight, his voice tightening slightly. “There is an additional matter to report, milady… The master has already launched a solo infiltration into the castle. He has breached that ancient keep despite its bizarre, deeply unsettling atmosphere. We proactively offered to deploy a detachment to accompany him, but he explicitly ordered us to stand down, stating he would proceed entirely alone.”
”Let him do exactly as he pleases,” Kuzuha said smoothly.
”M-Mew?!” the Golden Cat-folk girl squeaked, her ears twitching in a hyper-cute panic. “Is… is that really gonna be okay?! Isn’t that big creepy castle the enemy’s main headquarters?!”
”He will be perfectly fine,” Kuzuha murmured, gently smoothing down the cat-girl’s hair to soothe her. “He isn’t truly alone. If our presence becomes necessary, he will undoubtedly call for us.”
Whether she had already deduced his intentions through sheer intuition or simply trusted him implicitly, she remained entirely unperturbed, choosing to wait patiently right where she stood. She cradled the trembling cat-girl on her lap, letting out a soft, elegant sigh.
”For some peculiar reason, this quite reminds me of the time our wedding was so rudely interrupted,” Kuzuha whispered.
Just then, a fresh platoon marched toward the camp boundaries. Kuzuha watched as her beastkin soldiers escorted four young women through the compound. Spotting the Vampire Princess among those rescued from the depths of the enemy territory, Kuzuha puffed out her cheeks in a rare display of aristocratic annoyance.
The beastkin commander stepped forward, delivering his report in a clipped, procedural cadence. “Lady Kuzuha. We have secured the high-value Vampire captives in question. Standard protocol dictates their immediate transfer to the wasteland facility.”
”Ensure you explicitly remind Rosetta to have them safely contained within the Sanrid underground facility well before the dawn breaks,” Kuzuha instructed with sharp precision. “If you fail to do so, the sunlight will inevitably burn them to ash.”
* * *
The Moon Court. For a place everyone called the Mirror World, it didn’t really feel a damn thing like one.
It was supposed to be some kind of alternate dimension tucked away on the other side of a mirror, but to Klock, it just felt like a bootleg world where the very air had been completely sucked dry.
Having stepped into a dozen different uncharted, freaky lands over the past year, Klock didn’t find the mere concept of an alternate dimension all that spectacular anymore. Though, if he was being completely honest, the Crimson Spire had been an entirely different breed of bizarre.
(This castle, though… the air in here is thick as hell and completely stagnant. And why the fuck aren’t there any windows?)
This was the ancient keep where the high nobility supposedly holed up. Klock had broken past the gates without much of a fight, but the interior layout was profoundly screwed up. Vampires didn’t burn under the sun while they were inside the Moon Court. Yet, for some twisted reason, this entire fortress was structurally engineered as if the inhabitants absolutely dreaded a single stray ray of light.
Furthermore, the architecture wasn’t just ancient; it looked exactly like a human fortress. The design cues were almost hauntingly reminiscent of the Theocracy. Klock wondered if one side had blindly ripped off the other in some forgotten era.
(Ah. So, you are the specimen who arrives.)
A voice echoed through the space. It was impossible to tell whether the words were being broadcast directly into the synapses of his brain or simply reverberating off the cold stone walls of the keep.
(Advance to the council chambers.)
At the far end of the grand hallway just past the entrance, a pair of colossal doors began to grind open on their own, the heavy stone scraping against the floor.
That voice… it was Hanover, no doubt about it.
It seemed he was being rolled out the red carpet. Given that those massive doors looked far too heavy for any normal human strength to push open, Klock figured the assist saved him some trouble. At least he wouldn’t suffer the pathetic anti-climax of being locked out by a piece of wood.
”To think that you of all individuals would exhibit the audacity to show yourself in this domain,” Hanover said, his voice dripping with refined, academic condescension.
A row of candles flickered to life in a neat line, politely guiding his path like a makeshift runway. Following the illuminated trail through the open doors, Klock entered a sprawling, windowless hall of pristine, blinding white. In the center sat a massive circular table surrounded by seventeen grand seats. Four of those seats were visibly empty.
And finally, placed explicitly at the far end as if to say take a seat, boy, was a single vacant chair.
Realizing they had gone through the trouble of setting a place just to mock him, Klock accepted the provocation. He marched straight over and slumped heavily into the chair, casting a sharp, aggressive glare at the entire assembly.
Unsurprisingly, Hanover sat near the head of the table. But he wasn’t at the absolute top. There were two empty seats positioned even higher than him. That put Hanover at either third or second in command. An old man and a woman occupied the fourth and fifth seats. Barnea and Julie were seated significantly further down the line, practically at the kids’ table.
”You’re completely surrounded out there, Hanover,” Klock barked, leaning back and crossing his arms.
Klock had weighed a few options on how to kick off the conversation, but in the end, he decided to just stick to his usual rough, confrontational street talk.
Judging by the arrangement of the seats, these bloodsucking nobles adhered to a strict, rigid hierarchy. Of the ones present in the room, Hanover was undeniably the highest-ranking official. Klock didn’t give a rat’s ass about the exact nuances of their aristocratic etiquette, so he chose to ignore it entirely.
”You bastards sure talked a big game about ‘purging’ and ‘cleansing’ the dhampirs,” Klock spat, his voice echoing off the white walls. “Forcing your own damn people to rat each other out and turning the common folk of Valder1“
A heavy, dead silence fell over the council chamber.
A few of the nobles slowly turned their heads toward him, their expressions completely blank. Others merely shifted their eyes, tracking Klock with cold, academic disdain. Some kept their eyes shut tight, while a few ignored him entirely, acting as though a dirty human wasn’t even worth looking at. Excluding the empty seats, there were thirteen of them present. A full house, more or less. This was the true, ugly face of the Moon Court nobility.
”Did you arrogant pricks seriously operate on the assumption that no one would ever invade this world?” Klock continued, his voice rising with venomous heat. “Just because the dhampirs physically can’t disobey your orders, you thought you could get away with running a lawless tyranny forever? Guess what-not a single soul out there has an ounce of loyalty to you. The moment we showed up, every last one of them was practically waving a white flag with a smile on their face.”
(This has got to be the weakest, most pathetic country I’ve ever seen in my life,) Klock thought. (And you bastards had the nerve to look down on humans as a weak, inferior species?)
Despite Klock mashing the truth into their faces, the vampire nobles remained utterly unfazed, wrapping themselves in a chilling, arrogant silence.
”It’s over for you people,” Klock muttered, leaning forward and planting his fists on the table. “If you’ve got any last words, spit ’em out now. I’m listening.”
”Hehehe…” a low, mocking chuckle rippled through the room.
Following suit, the corners of the other nobles’ mouths curled into twisted, amused smirks.
”And?” Hanover inquired, his expression entirely detached.
”Huh?” Klock grunted, his brow furrowing.
”Are you suggesting we surrender to you?” an arrogant noble asked from across the table, his tone dripping with standard, modern neutrality.
”Your presumption lacks sufficient evidence and boundaries, human,” another intellectual noble added, adjusting his collar.
A barrage of condescending remarks flew at him from multiple voices at once. Facing thirteen of them alone was proving to be a tedious, exhausting chore.
”Look, I get that you bastards have your pride and titles to worry about,” Klock said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register. “So I won’t force you to beg for mercy or sign a formal apology. But at the bare minimum, you’re gonna sign a ceasefire agreement right here, right now.”
”Bwahahaha!” Count Barnea roared, an explosive burst of laughter shattering the tension.
He leaned back, his elderly Southern rural dialect bleeding heavily into his patronizing tone. “Well now, looky here! You boys see what this wild animal is tryin’ to do?”
Within moments, the surrounding nobility joined in the laughter, their faces painted with a sinister, unshakeable confidence.
”Now then, Mr. Klock Livorno,” a raspy, withered voice cut through the laughter. It came from the elderly noble seated directly next to Hanover, his tone adopting that same condescending, old-fashioned rural warmth. “Bless your heart, but I’m afraid your little ultimatum just don’t make a lick of sense for us to follow. There ain’t a single advantage for us to comply with your demands. For you see… we hold the upper hand in this conflict.”
(The upper hand? Their entire fortress is surrounded by an invading army, and they think they’re winning?) Klock’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening.
”Haha, you are operatin’ under a grave delusion, boy,” Barnea chimed in, a wicked grin plastered across his weathered face. “The Nosferatu nobility gathered in this very room constitute the entirety of the Moon Court’s true military might. Them dhampirs out there? Why, they ain’t nothin’ more than glorified lackeys and house servants.”
”Indeed,” the elderly noble agreed, nodding slowly. “The total casualties you have managed to inflict upon our actual forces thus far amounts to exactly one person.”
”You boasted earlier about how easily you suppressed them boys,” Barnea said, leaning forward and tapping his cane on the floor. “Tell me, do you not realize that if we was to issue a single command, every single dhampir across the entirety of this Moon Court would hurl themselves at your troops until they drew their very last breath? They ain’t people, son. They are our weapons; they are our pawns. A weapon that’s just sittin’ on the rack and ain’t been swung yet… why, it’s naturally no threat at all to the master.”
A cruel, quiet snicker echoed through the pristine hall.
(I see,) Klock thought, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. (So that’s how they view their own kind. Just literal objects.)
He had expected them to be cold, but breaking through this level of absolute, detached malice wasn’t going to be a simple street brawl.
”Cardinal Hanover,” Klock called out, his voice cutting through the snickers.
The room fell quiet, and Hanover, who had remained silent until now, slowly narrowed his eyes.
”You’ve seen Hero Anna with your own eyes,” Klock said, his tone dropping an octave. “The moment I stormed this place, you had to have known there was a real risk of crossing paths with that kind of monster. Do you honestly, truly believe you guys still hold the upper hand?”
”An excellent point, I must admit,” Hanover replied smoothly, his academic register perfectly intact.
The council chamber fell perfectly still as every eye in the room shifted toward the Cardinal.
”It is true that the young lady I encountered in Barreith possessed a terrifying, cataclysmic level of power-a force easily rivaling that of the Six-Horned Demon,” Hanover continued, propping his elbow on the table with an air of profound boredom. “If she were to set foot in this domain, we would have no choice but to humble ourselves and correct our posture. However… she is not here. Which leads to the logical deduction that she was fundamentally incapable of coming here.”
(What the hell is that supposed to mean?) Klock’s eyes narrowed.
There was no way Hanover could know that Cianie had gone off to hunt the Demon Lord. Yet, he spoke with absolute, unwavering certainty that she couldn’t step foot in this world.
(Is there a hidden clause to entering the Moon Court that I don’t know about…? Is that what’s keeping Hero Anna out?)
”So you think just because she isn’t standing here right now, you’re safe?” Klock barked.
”You previously referred to Hero Anna as ‘your woman,’ did you not?” Hanover replied, a subtle, mocking sneer playing on his lips. “Given that you have made it this far, we did harbor some concern about causing friction with her. However, I assure you, we have absolutely no desire to make an enemy of the Hero. Our assault on the human realms was never our true intent. The Moon Court is a member of the Council of the United Kingdoms. Surely you can comprehend that we were merely executing the institutional orders handed down to us by the council?”
Several nobles let out quiet snorts of amusement. They were completely, utterly mocking him. Hanover subtly raised a single eyebrow, looking as though he wished he were anywhere else but this tedious, elementary meeting.
(What a massive pain in the ass this guy is,) Klock thought, irritation flaring. (He thinks he can just smooth-talk his way out of this with cheap political excuses?)
They launch a full-scale assault on human territory but claim they have no intention of provoking the Hero? No one in their right mind would swallow a contradictory lie like that. Hanover’s words were practically dripping with an ulterior motive.
With Cianie’s sheer spatial manipulation abilities, the odds of her forcing her way into the Moon Court were incredibly high. But she wasn’t coming. Which meant Klock couldn’t use her as an active threat. As long as these bastards maintained this smug, untouchable attitude, using the Hero as a bargaining chip to force their surrender was dead in the water.
”By the way, Mr. Klock?” another noble spoke up, a nasty, neutral glint in his eye. “We understand that your forces have been capturing the dhampirs without killing them. Tell me, are you aware that we can broadcast a command from this very castle to command those thousands of dhampirs at any given moment? By leaving them alive, have you not essentially exposed your own flank to us?”
”Huh? The hell you tryin’ to say?” Klock shot back, his eyes flashing with dangerous heat. “You think my men are just sitting ducks out there? That one word from you nobles is gonna wipe them out?”
The noble gave a theatrical, exaggerated shrug, an insufferable smirk playing on his lips.
”Well, I’ve got a perfectly clear picture of your stance now,” Klock muttered, his voice becoming eerily quiet as he stood up from the table. “In short, you have absolutely no intention of cooperating.”
”Precisely,” Hanover concluded, his voice delivering the finality of a lecture’s end. “A negotiation can only exist if both parties can find common ground. The only offer we are remotely willing to accept from you… is your unconditional surrender.”
A chorus of clear, condescending laughter echoed through the white hall.
Despite having their fortress completely besieged, the Moon Court nobility hadn’t shown a single shred of panic. Klock had wondered why they were hiding out in this bizarre castle instead of fighting on the front lines, but it was clear now-they had a trump card up their sleeves.
It was entirely unnatural for thirteen powerful beings to remain completely unbothered while surrounded by an invading army. Klock had already captured Viola, their primary Apostle, yet he didn’t feel like he had cornered these monsters even an inch.
He didn’t know what kind of insurance policy they were relying on, but one thing was certain: in their minds, they weren’t the ones trapped. Arguments and words were just going to keep spinning in circles. There was only one option left.
Klock let out a long, heavy sigh.
”You said I was the one operating under a delusion,” Klock said, his neck cracking with a sudden, sharp snap. “But you’ve got it completely backward, you old fossils. I didn’t march all the way into this room to negotiate with you. I came here to dictate a one-sided demand.”
”…Oh?” Hanover murmured.
The moment the word left the Cardinal’s mouth, Klock acted.
With no warning other than that slight tilt of his head, Klock’s physical form suddenly slid out of focus, a sudden, liquid distortion of space-an uncanny, violent blur.
”Wh-What?!” Barnea gasped, his elderly face instantly contorting in shock and alarm as he staggered back.
The rest of the nobles instantly recoiled, their masks of superior calm shattering into pieces.
And for good reason. Right beside the man who had been sitting alone at the foot of the table, a second figure had instantly materialized.
She had emerged directly out of Klock’s own shadow.
”…A Merfolk…?” Hanover whispered, his analytical composure slipping for the first time.
A beautiful young girl with flowing hair and shimmering, vibrant orange fins glared out at the stunned assembly, her presence suffocating the room.
Those inhuman, slit-like eyes locked directly onto the vampiric nobility, cornering them like wild beasts.
The elven maiden stepped forward, her posture radiating absolute dignity. “My name is Primlena,” she announced, her voice carrying a sharp, elegant cadence. “I hold the Third Seat on the Council of the United Kingdoms. Furthermore, I am the sister of Primjune, the Sea General of the Demon Lord’s Four Fiends. As one of the six high priests of the Abyssal Sanctum, I stand before you today as the concubine2 of Lord Klock Livorno.”
”What did you say?!” a vampire noble shouted, his chair screeching against the floor.
To that staggering revelation, the assembly could not remain indifferent. The faces of the vampire lords instantly drained of color, flushed with a volatile mixture of shock and sheer disbelief.
”The sister of Sea General Primjune…?” Count Barnea muttered, his voice trembling.
”Preposterous!” another lord roared, slamming his fist onto the table. “Has that wretched creature betrayed the council and aligned herself with humans?”
Klock spat on the floor, his eyes narrowing to lethal slits as he cut through their frantic murmurs. “The hell are you starin’ at? Who said anything about humans? She’s tied to me, you dense bastards.”
He threw their words right back in their faces, making it brutally clear that her allegiance lay with him alone, completely bypassing the human nations.
Truth be told, bringing Primlena out here was a massive gamble. Just as the Moon Court nobility had muttered, showcasing her presence practically guaranteed that Primjune’s apparent treason would be reported back to the Demon Lord’s army. It was a reckless act that put the entire Sanctum clan in absolute jeopardy. If things went sideways, Klock wouldn’t even know how to begin explaining himself to Primjune.
Yet Primlena had accepted Klock’s proposition and come here anyway. She had willingly permitted him to leverage her sister’s formidable reputation. In essence, she had bet the entire fate and survival of her clan on Klock.
Klock leaned forward, his voice dropping into a menacing rumble. “You’ve already gotten the reports, ain’t ya? You know the Beast Country is backing us up. There are far more races standing right behind us than you parasites could ever fucking fathom.”
”What is your point, boy?” an elderly vampire retorted, his voice dripping with refined, academic superiority. “Setting the fish-kin aside, do you truly expect us to believe a pathetic rabble of mere beast-kin poses any legitimate threat to our sovereign domain?”
”…Heh.”
Klock let out a dark, fearless smirk, causing the nobles to cast uneasy glances at one another, completely thrown off by his absolute confidence.
”Cardinal Hanover,” Klock said, his tone dropping to a predatory chill. “Hate to cut your little speech short, but there’s something I need to ask you right now.”
”And what might that be?” Hanover replied smoothly, adjusting his aristocratic robes.
”Fifteen years ago. Do you remember the little skirmish3 that broke out among the Kingdom, the Theocracy, and the Empire?”
”Fifteen years ago…?” Hanover murmured, his brow furrowing.
The surrounding nobles knitted their brows, their faces twisting into sour, defensive grimaces at the sudden, historical detour.
”It was a little bloodbath incited entirely by your backroom instigations,” Klock said, his voice tightening with venom. “Your vampires manifested in the Sand region, burning and slaughtering their way through the villages. You turned the townsfolk into dhampirs and dragged them away as cattle. That was the hometown of Viola, the girl who later became an apostle of your very own Moon Court.”
”Oh?” Hanover murmured, maintaining a cool, unbothered facade.
”I have no knowledge regarding the origins of that creature,” Hanover added coldly. “I neither remember nor recognize such an insignificant event.”
”Hah?” Klock growled, his knuckles cracking.
(Bullshit.) It was a blatant lie. The Regression of Bliss reproduced the past with absolute fidelity. Even if Cianie’s actions had shifted the sequence of events or altered the scenery slightly, the core cast of characters remained entirely unchanged. He knew the bastard was lying.
”You’re gonna sit there and tell me you don’t know shit?” Klock snarled, pointing a finger at the Cardinal. “Look, Hanover. You play dumb, and I’m completely done cutting you any fucking slack.”
”What…?” Hanover whispered, the composure fracturing on his pale face.
”I told you from the start,” Klock said, his eyes narrowing to slits. “This conversation isn’t a negotiation. It’s a unilateral demand.”
At that words, a blade of pure light cleaved the air, fracturing reality. It parted like the eyelid of a vertical pupil opening in the fabric of the room. Emerging from the blinding radiance was the beautiful princess of the forest folk.
Short of stature, she looked like a pristine, snowy maiden-the very definition of innocence. Yet, the gaze she fixed upon the vampire nobility dripped with an unadulterated, suffocating malice.
”…This girl…” Count Barnea whispered, his eyes widening in recognition.
Aside from Julie, Barnea was likely the only one in the room who wasn’t seeing her for the first time.
”Second Princess of Valder, Flavia,” Klock introduced, his voice carrying a heavy weight. “Daughter of King Tumeros, the Tenth Seat of the Council of the United Kingdoms, and Queen Isabella.”
”An elven princess…?!” a noble gasped, recoiling.
Flavia took a deliberate step forward, her aura flaring defensively as she shielded her lord. “As previously stated, I stand bound by sacred contract to my honorable lord.”
”My, my,” a vampire noblewoman cooed, masking her unease with a strained, mocking chuckle. “The boy certainly keeps a colorful flock of women around him.”
”I see,” another lord muttered. “He has secured marriage alliances with several formidable races.”
”I heard the Hero of this era was a woman,” an elder noble remarked. “Did she have her husband wed these exotic daughters simply to forge political ties for her crusade?”
Evaluations and assumptions flew rapidly across the chamber. It was only natural for them to assume the Hero was the mastermind pulling the strings.
”Cardinal,” a high-ranking elder whispered, leaning in toward Hanover. “His sphere of influence has reached a domain we can no longer afford to ignore.”
”Indeed,” Hanover murmured back, his beast-like eyes locking onto Klock. “If it were merely Hero Anna, that would be one thing. But if he holds ties to both Primjune and the forest people, his leverage is scarcely inferior to the Six Horns.”
Hanover exhaled slowly, adjusting his posture as he looked down at the youth. “Lord Klock Livorno. It appears you do indeed possess the requisite power to command a place at our table. I must apologize for our prior discourtesy. With someone of your caliber, we may now properly engage in-“
”Hey. Are you fucking mocking me, old man?” Klock interrupted, slamming his hand onto his knee. “I just told you there’s no room left for clemency. Do you seriously think you can just saunter back to the negotiating table now?”
Klock flatly rejected Hanover’s extended, pale hand.
”Your objective is a ceasefire, is it not?” Hanover asked, his voice tightening with academic restraint. “Are you truly choosing to discard it of your own volition?”
”You’re completely missing the point, you idiot. The only thing that matters right now,” Klock growled, leaning so close their eyes locked, “is whether you remember what you did in Sand.”
Hanover frowned deeply at Klock’s phrasing, looking entirely perplexed by his obsession with the past.
”I know the truth, Hanover. You were there that day. You were in Sand.”
”What…?” Hanover whispered.
Klock decided it was time to play his final, crushing trump card.
”Ring of Death’s Caress-“
The very fabric of the room groaned as space warped violently. The air in the council chamber grew instantly suffocating, heavy as lead. The scenery ahead rippled like a stone cast into a still pond. Slender, delicate fingers materialized from thin air, grasping at the empty void as if pulling back an invisible curtain.
”Hehe… It has been quite some time, Cardinal Hanover,” a melodic voice purred.
She stepped through the rift, her seductive figure fully manifesting.
”Wh… What…?!” Hanover gasped, his face draining of all color.
For a fraction of a second, an absolute, dead silence paralyzed the grand hall. Then, in a frantic burst of scraping chairs, three of the highest-ranking nobles bolted to their feet.
”Y-You…! You’re… Kispe Shisa…?!” a noble screamed, his finger shaking as he pointed at her.
It was the ultimate disruption. Her arrival was entirely outside the realm of their calculations. The surrounding nobility panicked, and even Cardinal Hanover’s pristine, aristocratic mask shattered into an expression of sheer terror.
”H-How?! It cannot be!”
”What is the meaning of this?! Why is that venomous harlot4 appearing in our castle?!”
”F-Foolishness…!! How did she breach the Moon Court…?!”
Kispe tilted her head, pressing a delicate finger to her cheek as she let out a venomous, musical laugh. “My, look at you all making such an unseemly racket. I feel quite as though I am besieged by a pack of shrilly yapping little lapdogs… ❤️”
The reaction to her presence was on an entirely different scale compared to the previous two. Seeing the very monsters who prided themselves on absolute composure now grinding their teeth in impotent fury, she let out an incredibly sisterly, mocking laugh.
”Listen up, Hanover,” Klock said, pointing a finger directly at the trembling Cardinal. “I told you just a second ago. If you couldn’t recall what happened in Sand, you wouldn’t get a single ounce of mercy.”
Klock glared at him, his gaze pinning Hanover to his seat like a physical stake, refusing to let the vampire look away. “Tell me one more time. Do you remember Sand, or do you want to die right now?”
Faced with Klock’s absolute, unwavering intent to slaughter them all, Hanover finally succumbed to the pressure. His shoulders stiffened as he conceded.
”…Fifteen years ago,” Hanover began, his voice tight with forced dignity. “We did indeed launch a surface invasion. We were not the orchestrators, merely the supporting elements. Under the direct orders of the Demon Lord’s grand strategist, we incited internal conflicts among the human nations.”
”There we go. I knew you didn’t fucking forget, Hanover,” Klock snarled. “The discord you sowed between those three kingdoms back then-do you know exactly what lands were caught in the crossfire?”
”I must apologize, but I do not know the exact logistics,” Hanover replied stiffly. “As I stated, we were merely providing auxiliary support.”
”Sand, Amadei, and Livorno.”
”……Livorno?” one of the standing nobles gasped, the realization striking him like a physical blow.
The entire council’s attention snapped directly onto Klock. Hanover’s eyes widened in sudden comprehension.
”…Could it be?” Hanover whispered.
”I was a kid, the ruling lord’s house was dragged into a war entirely because of your petty little schemes. That lord was my father,” Klock stated, his voice dangerously level. “Because of you bastards, our nation fell, and our house collapsed into nothing but a ruined, pathetic memory.”
The reason Klock stood before them today as the man he was-it was because the monsters in this very room had set the dominoes in motion. Long before any talk of a grand alliance had ever emerged, these vampires had been pulling the strings to ensure humanity tore itself apart from the inside out.
Ultimately, Klock’s personal downfall might have been a result of his own choices. But the ruin of his house, his family, and his legacy? That was entirely the collateral damage of the vampire conspiracy. If they hadn’t intervened, Gina might never have been forced into exile. Cianie might never have had to die.
”To be so fiercely obsessed with a historical casualty…” Hanover muttered, trying to regain his footing. “Is this simple revenge? We have no record of our forces directly moving against this ‘Livorno’ house of yours.”
”Hah? I don’t give a single flying fuck about that,” Klock barked back, shutting him down instantly. “What matters is what you did to Sand. You walked into Sand Village, Hanover, and you stole Viola and the others away.”
In truth, Klock wanted nothing more than to tear them apart for what happened to Cianie. But with the complexities of reincarnation and altered timelines, pressing them on a murder they technically hadn’t committed in this iteration was a tactical dead end. He had to hit them with what was absolute.
”And what of it?” Hanover countered, his voice rising defensively. “We operated within the borders of the Empire, yes. But to you, those villagers should be nothing more than complete strangers. Are you truly threatening our entire race over an ancient history that has nothing to do with you?”
”The alliance between those three human kingdoms was supposed to be sealed through a political marriage,” Klock explained, his voice dropping to a low, rhythmic cadence. “Livorno was scheduled to receive the daughter of Croce, the lord of Sand. Before that could happen, the Croces were slaughtered and their land was burned to ash by your hands. But that daughter? Even after her house fell, she never gave up. She eventually found her way to me.”
A cold dread seemed to seep into Hanover’s veins. He frowned deeply, sensing the impending execution.
”My wife is Hero Anna,” Klock smiled, a terrifyingly empty expression. “But her real name is Sylvia Croce.”
”What…?!” Hanover gasped, recoiling into his chair.
”Hanover, I didn’t know your true identity when I walked in here, but the Hero saw right through your disguise and told me exactly what you were,” Klock stated. “Right now, that very Hero has set out to decapitate the Demon Lord. The Saint whom your army failed to kidnap managed to pinpoint the Demon Lord’s location. That’s why Anna left your execution entirely in my hands.”
”…!”
The vampire nobles looked at one another in sheer, unadulterated panic. Were they terrified of the Hero’s true lineage, or the cataclysmic revelation that the Demon Lord was currently being hunted down?
”Sylvia Croce was absolutely furious when she uncovered the truth-that you bastards burned Sand to the ground and dragged Viola away,” Klock lied smoothly, channeling the rage of the split-entity Cianie into the myth of the Hero. “The only reason I came all the way to this damn castle was because I inherited her will. I came here with the absolute resolve to completely eradicate the vampire race from the face of this earth.”
”How dare you…!” a noble roared.
Of course, the one who had actually raged was Cianie, his transient wife’s tragic alter-ego. The real Sylvia currently operating as the Hero likely still viewed Viola as an unrecognizable enemy. Whether there was any hope left of repairing the fractured relationship between those two sisters remained to be seen. But right now, that didn’t matter.
”Do you finally get it through your thick skulls, Hanover? We are way past the point of talking about ceasefires or any other delusional negotiations,” Klock spat, his aura flaring with lethal intent. “I walked through those front doors with every intention of slaughtering every last one of you. But because I technically have a diplomatic position to maintain, I’m going to offer you a single, final choice.”
He slammed his boot onto the floor. “Choose right now. Do you swallow our demands and live as our dogs? Or do you all face absolute extinction right here, tonight?”
It was Klock’s quiet, final ultimatum.
Hanover ground his teeth so hard they threatened to shatter. The entire grand hall fell into a suffocating, dead silence. The absolute confidence that had filled the room prior to Kispe Shisa’s arrival had vanished completely, replaced by a desperate, creeping terror.
”Kispe Shisa!!” a noble roared, breaking the silence as he slammed his hands on the table. “You are an ancient being who has lived through the eons! Do you truly intend to degrade yourself by playing the obedient pet to such a vulgar, pathetic, low-life species?!”
Kispe tilted her head, pressing a delicate finger to her cheek as she let out a venomous, musical laugh. “Oh my. What a fascinating perspective. Tell me, how exactly should I evaluate all of you-the supposed ‘superior race’-who have allowed your very headquarters to be infiltrated, cornered, and utterly overwhelmed by this exact same ‘pathetic, low-life species’?”
”What did you say…?” the noble stammered.
The vampires were entirely on the defensive. Every insult they hurled at Klock only served to highlight their own pathetic inadequacy. The time for them to look down on humanity to preserve their fragile egos had long since expired.
”Under his command stands the Hero, alongside myself, Flavia, and Primlena,” Kispe continued, her eyes flashing with a cruel, predatory light. “Out in the wastelands, a massive army of one hundred thousand soldiers from the Beast Kingdom has already crossed into the Human Continent as reinforcements. The tides of war have permanently broken against the Demon Lord’s forces. We have successfully repelled the combined might of the Succubus clans, your precious Vampire nobility, the Beast Demon tribes, and the core Demonkin forces to push you back into this pathetic corner. You would do well to measure the weight of reality before you speak again.”
”A hundred thousand reinforcements…?” the elder noble whispered, sinking back into his chair.
Evidently, news of a military mobilization of that magnitude had not yet breached the isolated walls of their castle. The realization of their complete isolation hung in the air like a descending guillotine.
”Surely by now you realize there’s no coming back from this.”
The demon of the Crimson Spire offered a faint, mocking smile, her eyes glittering with cold amusement as she looked across the long table.
”The tide of battle has already turned in the wasteland,” she continued, her voice cutting through the damp air of the council chamber. “I cannot speak for the current state of affairs regarding the Demon Lord’s Army at Orrid, but if their fortress hasn’t fallen yet, they are already walking dead. The Conro army presses from the north, while the forces of the Beast Country advance from Sanrid in the south. Bandanzine and his cohorts are utterly surrounded. If things continue apace, their annihilation is inevitable. The Demon Lord’s Army faces total, absolute defeat.”
She paused, leaning back into her stone seat with an air of absolute certainty. “You have miscalculated, ladies and gentlemen. Why not alter your allegiance while you still have the chance? You might just make it in the nick of time.”
The vampires inside the council chamber exchanged uneasy glances, a heavy, suffocating silence settling over the room.
If Kispe wanted to make her words truly irrefutable, the quickest method would be to explain exactly how she had been brought to heel by the Hero-how that absurdly powerful entity had directly invaded the Crimson Spire, completely ignoring the planar restrictions of the alternate world. If the council understood those circumstances, they would realize they had no choice but to submit.
But there was no need to go that far.
Frankly, it didn’t matter if they chose to resist at this eleventh hour.
Klock leaned forward, slamming his hand onto the wood. “The hell you starin’ at, Barnea? Look at that sour look on your face. Got a problem? If you got something to say, why don’t you step up and try rollin’ on me right now?”
”Wh-What did you say…?!” Barnea growled, his face twisting in fury.
Klock smirked, deliberately angling for a reaction. “The second you make a move, it’s all-out war. Let’s see who can butcher the other side first-us or you. That’s assuming you actually got the spine for it, punk.”
”Grr…!” Barnea seethed, his fists shaking.
Klock was hiding behind the demon’s shadow, ruthlessly weaponizing her presence. She had promised her cooperation for this venture, and he intended to exploit that leverage to its absolute limit, crushing the vampires under pure psychological weight.
Barnea flicked his gaze toward the head of the table, silently pleading for direction. “Cardinal, give the word!” he demanded.
But Cardinal Hanover completely ignored him, keeping his eyes locked solely on Klock.
”Barnea,” Klock continued, his voice dropping into a venomous, low register. “I’ll make you regret ever drawin’ breath. See, I’m just a low-born, brutal human. I’m gonna drag you through a hell so depraved it’ll make a civilized man vomit.”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, Klock flipped him the middle finger.
Barnea averted his eyes with a bitter, twisted grimace, refusing to look at Klock any longer. If Rugandia and the others were here to see his pathetic face, they’d probably be roaring with laughter.
The council chamber fell utterly still. Into that grand, quiet space, the harsh scrape of Klock’s chair echoed loudly as he stood up.
”Well? What’s it gonna be?!” Klock roared, his voice bouncing off the high stone walls. “Are you gonna stop fightin’, or are you gonna die right where you sit? Don’t shut your damn mouths like a bunch of scolded toddlers! Speak up, damn it!”
”Very well,” Cardinal Hanover spoke, breaking the silence with a calm, measured tone. “We will accept the ceasefire. State your terms.”
”What?!” Barnea gasped, turning toward the old vampire.
”Cardinal! Have you lost your mind?!” another lord shouted from the back.
Without consulting a single member of his court, Cardinal Hanover had broken.
Klock narrowed his eyes, a cynical smirk playing on his lips. “…Well, that was surprisingly easy.”
”The King would never allow us to bow our heads to mere humans!” Barnea protested, stepping forward with his hand on his sword hilt.
”Then do you mean to tell me that perishing here is the King’s true will?” Hanover countered, his voice cold and final. “That conclusion lacks sufficient evidence to justify our destruction. We stand no chance against Kispe Shisa. If you choose war, you will all be corpses before the day ends.”
Though Barnea continued to glare in protest, Hanover cut him off completely with a sharp wave of his hand.
”If this King of yours is actually around,” Klock interjected, crossing his arms, “aren’t you gonna run this by him?”
”The King is not present,” Hanover replied flatly.
”Huh. So you guys are the ones pullin’ the political strings?” Klock’s eyes drifted toward the empty, elevated thrones at the head of the chamber. (Are those supposed to be the seats for the King and Queen?)
”Tell me, boy-are you familiar with the concept of the world-entry anchors?” Hanover asked, leaning forward.
”Ah? Anchors?” Klock muttered.
”Then it is of no consequence to you,” Hanover sighed softly. “The Moon Court operates under my sole authority. State your terms to me without concern.”
(There’s obviously some history there,) Klock thought. It piqued his curiosity, but it wasn’t the primary objective today. It was best to leave it alone.
”Alright, so we’re doin’ the ceasefire,” Klock stated, adjusting his jacket. “Which means a de facto surrender.”
”We possess our pride,” Hanover replied, his posture rigid. “However, I will not make a foolish decision that results in the total eradication of our bloodline. The moment we permitted her entry into the Moon Court, the battle was already lost.”
”Cardinal…” Barnea muttered, his shoulders slumping.
”It could not be helped,” Hanover whispered, looking down at his clasped hands. “Who could have foreseen that Princess Asura herself would invade this place?”
From their reactions alone, it was glaringly obvious how deeply they feared her. Klock hadn’t expected them to be quite this transparent about it, though.
”Is her bein’ here really that shockin’?” Klock asked, raising an eyebrow. “If someone just invites Kispe in, she can walk through the front door easily enough, can’t she?”
”Impossible,” Hanover clarified, shaking his head. “The fundamental entry protocols of this alternate realm dictate that one cannot invite an entity whose magical signature vastly exceeds their own.”
”Wait, what?” Klock blurted out.
That caught Klock completely off guard. If those were the actual mechanics of the world, then indeed, anyone residing within these walls would normally have nothing to fear.
”There is no soul alive capable of inviting Princess Asura,” Hanover continued, his brow furrowing in genuine bewilderment. “Naturally, the Hero should never have been able to set foot here either. To think she possessed a means to bypass the planar laws… How exactly did she arrive?”
”It’s simple enough,” Klock replied honestly, offering the explanation as a polite return for the information. “I was invited by a certain man. I’m the only one who came here through the legitimate route. Once I was inside, I just traced our contract connection and summoned Kispe directly into the Moon Court.”
”A summoning…?!” Barnea gasped, his eyes widening.
”And for the record, it’s the same deal with the army outside,” Klock added with a grind. “Every last one of them was summoned here by Kispe.”
Kispe had crossed over to Klock’s side straight from the Crimson Spire. The moment the operation to rescue Viola commenced, Klock had managed to spur the otherwise unmotivated demon into action with the right intel. First, Klock secured entry into the Moon Court; next, he summoned Kispe across the planar boundary; and finally, Kispe pulled in Kuzuha and the rest of the forces waiting in the wasteland.
The Phantasmagoric Ferry possessed the unique property to transport subjects to the Crimson Spire while completely disregarding standard alternate-world constraints. By utilizing the Crimson Spire as a planar transit station, the army gathered in the wasteland was able to bypass the restrictions and manifest directly within the Moon Court by linking to Klock.
In short, this impossible, overwhelming march had been executed entirely through her sheer spirit of service.
”Cardinal Hanover,” Klock said, his tone turning serious as he stepped closer to the table. “To be perfectly frank with you, I came here today fully intendin’ to wipe you all out. That’s how dangerous I consider the vampires to be. But if you’re throwin’ up the white flag, I’ll accept it. Just know it’s not unconditional.”
”I am aware,” Hanover replied smoothly. “If your terms are decided, please present them.”
”Viola, along with her four subordinates-Rugandia, Rodney, Mermy, and Linaria. I want all these residents of the Sand returned immediately. Furthermore, an unconditional ceasefire with humanity. And…” Klock cocked a single eyebrow, his eyes turning cold as ice. “The Chief Strategist of the Demon Lord’s Army, Parl Forestier. Tell me everything you know about her. Spill every last detail.”
”Oh?” Hanover murmured, his interest clearly piqued.
During the raid on the Sand Village witnessed by his clone, Cianie, there had been a man in a cassock accompanied by a woman with a bizarre manner of speech. Even though it was nothing more than a hazy, borrowed memory from another’s mind, Klock was absolutely certain those individuals were Hanover and Parl. Even if Cianie’s interference had caused minor ripples in the timeline, the core players who manifested during that incident wouldn’t have changed.
Parl was definitely pulling the strings behind that event. Given how thoroughly she had destabilized the Beast Country, it wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprising if she was plotting something on the Human Continent as well.
”Parl Forestier is a dangerous entity,” Klock noted. “Even the Goddess Teekua keeps a watchful eye on her.”
”That is only natural,” Hanover replied smoothly. “The Goddess Teekua was well acquainted with Parl during her mortal life.”
”…You knew about that?” Klock grimaced slightly at how casually Hanover dropped the phrase (during her mortal life). As he suspected, Hanover was an ancient being who had existed through the ages, possessing a deep grasp of the world’s hidden history.
”I know that wicked sylvan all too well,” Hanover said, a dark shadow crossing his face. “In truth, we ourselves have spent centuries racking our brains trying to figure out how to deal with her.”
(Wicked, huh?) Klock thought. If even the high-ranking members of the Demon Lord’s Army viewed her as an absolute monster, her reputation must be truly abhorrent. She had fractured the Beast Country and orchestrated countless plots across the Human Continent; she certainly wasn’t going to be a saint within the United Kingdoms. It was terrifyingly easy to picture her executing gruesome, underhanded atrocities against her political adversaries.
”Tell me, boy-are you familiar with the Revealer?” Hanover asked.
”…Yeah. The Chosen One from a hundred years ago,” Klock replied.
”Then do you know how he met his end?”
”His end? What about it?” Klock asked, narrowing his eyes.
”He was slaughtered for attempting to pry into Parl Forestier’s secrets,” Hanover said, his voice tightening with genuine disgust.5 “He died in a manner so vile, so thoroughly grotesque, that it defies imagination. Anyone who learns the gruesome details of his demise cannot help but loathe her very existence.”
”…”
Klock stiffened. Within his shoulder, the presence hidden there remained completely, chillingly silent.
By utilizing a parasitic water-submersion technique, Klock had concealed Primlena within his own form, smuggling her into the court along with him. The hidden soul had played a monumentally critical role in ensuring the success of this operation. Though their initial encounter had been entirely abrupt, Klock had done nothing but rely on his assistance ever since.
”The fact that you have set your sights on her is a magnificent stroke of good fortune for us,” Hanover continued, his tone turning oily and cooperative as he walked toward Klock. “She is the literal incarnation of an evil that should not exist in this world. Granted, providing you with information regarding her carries a significant risk for our kind. However, I will gladly oversee the full disclosure of our intelligence.”
Hanover spread his hands smoothly. “After all, our bloodline was once on quite intimate terms with the Chosen Ones a century ago. Though our current acquaintance has begun under unfortunate circumstances, I believe we can find a common path forward.”
Klock scoffed internally at how quickly the Cardinal had pivoted to playing the role of a convenient ally. However, amidst the smooth-talking vampire’s grandstanding, there was one specific phrase Klock simply couldn’t ignore.
”A hundred years ago, the vampires were close with the Chosen Ones?” Klock asked, his eyes narrowing. “With whom?”
”Indeed,” Hanover smiled thinly. “We shared a fraternal bond with the Keeper of the Eternal Flame. The very founder of the great Dusselhelm Empire was a dhampir, you see. He who once bore the mantle of the Flame Keeper became our protector by being reborn into our bloodline.6 Though, from what I understand, he spent his entire immortal existence refusing to let a single drop of blood pass his lips.”
* * *
”Fantastic work, Master,” Kispe said with a smile.
The three of them walked down an immensely long, vaulted stone hallway. Flasia had been sent ahead, leaving Klock, Kispe, and Primlena to set a more deliberate pace.
”It is quite rare to see you become so emotional,” Kispe chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she kept pace beside him. “An angry Master is dreadfully charming, you know.”
”What the hell are you even talkin’ about?” Klock muttered, rolling his eyes.
Kispe let out a soft, mocking laugh, causing Primlena to knit her brows in disapproval. Primlena possessed a thoroughly grounded, normal sensibility; to her, Kispe’s bizarre, twisted romantic overtures were likely completely incomprehensible.
”Hey, Kispe,” Klock said, changing the subject as he looked around the grey stone walls. “Why do you think this castle doesn’t have any windows? The sun in the Moon Court doesn’t burn vampires, right? If that’s the case, you’d think they’d at least put in a few windows for the view.”
”This ancient fortress was originally constructed within the wasteland, was it not?” Kispe replied smoothly.
”…In the wasteland?” Klock asked, turning his head.
”The Cardinal promised to continue your discussions in the wasteland at a later date, did he not?” Kispe noted, her tone turning analytical. “When that time comes, why not ask him directly about the true lineage of the bloodline?”
”The lineage of the bloodline?” Klock repeated.
”The Undying-Gorgers,” Kispe whispered, her voice carrying a playful, dark cadence. “A clan of monster-devourers who dared to touch the ultimate taboo in their desperate pursuit to transcend into Higher Beings. I hear that once upon a time, even Ms. Parl harbored a deep, academic fascination regarding their macabre origins.”
Klock’s face twisted into an expression of pure disgust as the unsettling terminology registered. Instantly, the deadpan face of the Lady of the Lake flashed across his mind. (Just hearing the words Higher Being is enough to make me want to sigh. One of those transcendental freaks had snuffed me out without breaking a sweat. In retrospect, I really should have copped a feel of her chest just out of pure spite before I died.)
(Still,) Klock mused, (the moment I mentioned we were going after Parl, those bloodsuckers immediately started actin’ like we were best friends. Just how terrified of her are they? Or rather, just how terrifyin’ly broken is she as an opponent? I guess if a literal Goddess like Teekua explicitly marks you as a threat, you’re bound to be a complete nightmare.)
”Reckon you ain’t takin’ another step, boy,” a voice rasped from the shadows.
The grand gates leading out of the castle were finally within sight. But as they stepped onto the covered stone bridge connecting the sectors, a slow, rustic drawl cut through the air from behind.
It was Count Barnea.
He stood there casting a heavy shadow across the bridge, his thick, weathered arms wrapped tightly around Rodney. He had a wicked, jagged blade pressed flush against her throat, the cold steel biting into her skin.
”The hell do you think you’re doin’?” Klock asked, his voice entirely flat as he turned around.
”This here girl happens to be a particular favorite of mine,” Barnea sneered, his slow country cadence filled with a quiet, menacing weight. “Brought her up by hand, I did, pourin’ every bit of care into her trainin’. I reckon I’d sooner slaughter her right here myself than go handin’ her over to the likes of you.”
”Not ‘handin’ over,’” Klock barked, his eyes narrowing into razor-thin slits as he took a slow step forward. “The word you’re lookin’ for is ‘returnin’.’ Get it through your thick skull.”
Despite the council’s explicit decree to return Rodney, Barnea had slipped out of the chamber early. It was clear that while he had dragged her along under the guise of compliance, he fundamentally refused to accept the surrender.
As he spoke, Barnea’s hand crudely grovelled and squeezed Rodney’s breast, using the vulgar display of dominance to ground his leverage while pressing the sharp edge of the blade harder against her soft neck. He was clearly a creature entirely ruled by his basest, most venal desires.
(If I were in his shoes, I’d probably wanna do the exact same thing,) Klock thought coldly.
”I can’t exactly get on board with you pressing that blade hard enough to draw blood just by swallowing,” he muttered, though he didn’t see much point in arguing the ethics of it.
”You gave us an ultimatum earlier, didn’t you? Then I’ll ask you the same. Retract your demands, or the girl dies right here.”
”You’re a real piece of work, aren’t ya?” Klock said, keeping his eyes locked on the Count.
He wondered, did he really care that much about holding onto Rodney?
”Hah! You hurt me, and the contract shatters. If that contract goes blank, it’s you lot who’re gonna be in a heap of trouble. This castle has defenses. You step one foot outside this line, and you’ll never find your way back in again,” Barnea sneered.
I see. So that’s the gimmick. He didn’t know the specifics of the barrier, but that explained why, even with the castle surrounded, he hadn’t shown a shred of panic until Kispe had actually stormed the place.
”You’re a bloody idiot, ain’t ya?”
He seemed to be acting without Hanover’s permission, but that didn’t mean Hanover wasn’t watching. He’d been addressed the moment he stepped inside; it was highly probable. He couldn’t afford to be looked down on.
”Too bad for you, I’ve already crossed paths with Hanover and the others. No matter where you hide, there’s nowhere left to run,” Klock bluffed.
”…What?!” Barnea’s face went pale. If he hadn’t anticipated that, his foresight was pathetic.
”Barnea, Count.”
Just as Klock moved to try and de-escalate, Kispe interrupted.
”The talking is finished, isn’t it? Don’t you find it rather vulgar to try and backtrack now?”
The moment she finished, Barnea dropped his knife. The thirty-centimeter blade clattered across the stone floor. As he released Rodney, she scrambled away from him, gasping.
Kispe’s amethyst eyes glinted with a sinister, otherworldly light.
”I simply adore how you’ll stop at nothing to reach your goal—it’s so delightfully filthy. To see someone like you consumed so meaninglessly… it’s just so precious, and so very tragic.”
It was a demon’s confession. Klock averted his eyes with a cold, blank stare, and Primlena frowned in disgust.
”Forget about a girl like that—please, seek me out instead. ♡”
The demon whispered, her voice like honeyed poison. (Please, crave me until you bleed. Please, give me everything you are. I’ll be watching over you… ♡)
Barnea, a nobleman of the Moon Court, drove the blade straight into his own throat. He pulled downward with all the strength he had left.
”Gah?!”
From his throat to his chest, he ripped himself open, his ribs snapping and crunching. As blood began to pool around his knees, he pried his own body open to display his viscera. His heart, his lungs—his crimson insides were offered up as a sacrifice to the demon.
”Oh, how wonderful,” Kispe giggled, watching the display with total detachment. “To do that much for my sake—it’s so adorable… it reminds me of those monkeys waving their hands from behind the bars of a circus cage.”
As his entrails spilled out, Kispe turned her back on him, the clack-clack of her heels echoing through the hall. She had already lost interest in the man she had just hounded to his death; she probably couldn’t even remember his name. It was as if she’d smashed an antique plate just for the brief pleasure of hearing it break.
”I have nothing left to say to you. Just know this—you’re an enemy to Rugandia and the rest of them,” Klock said, his voice flat.
He couldn’t help but feel a certain way about Barnea’s pathetic end. Maybe he’d thought he could negotiate, but even if he’d had the chance, he couldn’t find a single ounce of sympathy for him.
He secured the confused Rodney and left the scene. His Jumping Slash7 split the Count’s exposed heart in two, delivering the coup de grâce. With his end witnessed, the battle with the Moon Court was brought to a definitive close.
”Ah, Sir Klock…!!”
”Oh, hey Rosalie. You’ve been waiting for me?”
Klock reached out and, without thinking, grabbed her chest and hoisted her up.
”O-oh, thank you for your hard work… and… and congratulations on the victory,” Rosalie stammered, her face turning bright red.
He stared down at her, putting pressure on her as he kneaded her breasts through her clothes.
”Yeah, tell me about it. I was worried sick since I hadn’t properly looked up the entry conditions for the Moon Court.”
He kept on squeezing and massaging her breasts as he spoke. Despite being a noblewoman, she just let him do whatever he wanted. Her n**ples were starting to push against the fabric.
He was half-tempted to drag her into the shadows somewhere. But then he felt Merfolk’s eyes burning into the back of his head, and he let go of her. He knew the rules—you only got away with this if you kept it discreet. If he did it in public, one of these days, he’d have a spear shoved right through his back.
”Hello, Ms. Viola.”
”KisKisKisKisKispe-chaaaaann!!”
”You’re disgusting.”
In the underground facility of the Sanrid estate, two demons finally crossed paths.
”Hehehe… it’s really KisKis…!! I’m so happy to see you again… so happy… you smell so good… ahh, I love you so much, Kispe…”
Kispe’s amethyst eyes, which seemed to look down on everything in existence, reflected the vampire. But the girl with eyes like blood and fangs didn’t care; she dove into Kispe’s arms, burying her face into her cleavage. Kispe didn’t resist, though she looked at the girl as if she were trash, while Viola just breathed in deep, uncaring.
”From here on out, you’re going to work yourself to death for my sake,” Kispe commanded.
She didn’t say it was for Klock’s sake. She patted Viola’s head, giving her a small reward, and the moment Viola started rubbing her face against her with unbridled desire, Kispe stepped back, leaving the Vampire Princess to sprawl onto the floor.
”You—you idiot!!”
”Ow?!”
Before Viola could stand, Rugandia’s sharp retort cracked through the air. She bowed her head apologetically and dragged Viola away. In the back, Rodney was crying, embraced by Linaria and Mermy.
It seemed Barnea had been particularly obsessed with Rodney. Between the curse of the vampire’s blood and the constant threats—threatening to take her home, or kill Rugandia and the others—she’d been backed into a corner. She’d been robbed of the ability to think, forced to act as his spy.
But Rugandia and the others had decided to forgive her. Viola was currently hugging Rodney. No matter how many twists and turns their lives had taken, you had to admire their ability to stay together like this.
They’d suffered a lifetime’s worth of hardship in just fifteen years. From here on out, they deserved a life where they could finally catch a break.
As the vampire girls chatted away, Kispe walked up to Klock.
”By the way—”
She reached out, and her hand seemed to sink right into Klock’s shoulder.
”By the way, why is it that you’re attached to the Master? Demon Lord Lizamis-sama?”
She plucked a spider from the air with her fingers. The man who’d been dragged out of his parasitic state gasped.
”Eek!! I—I knew you’d find me…!!”
Kispe narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. Whether she was looking at his soul or not, she blushed as she looked at the man trapped in the spider’s vessel.
”Fufu… ♡ Still as adorable as ever. So pathetic, so squirmy… it’s just so disgusting and cute. I want to crush you under my heel… ♡”
She dropped Lizamis onto the floor. The next moment, she stepped on him—carefully, so as not to kill him.
”Aghhhh!! You’re—you’re gonna kill me!! My poor belly is gonna burst!! Don’t just stand there watching, help me…!!”
…Wait, did she just say Demon Lord?
”Lizamis-sama. Since Rosalie didn’t have the right to invite us to the Moon Court, you took it upon yourself to help us out, didn’t you? I suppose you were invited by someone like the ‘Keeper of the Light’ in the past, and that’s how you earned residency rights in the Moon Court. You did a wonderful job. However… you are originally of the demon kind. And a king from a hundred years ago, at that. I’m going to need you to explain why you’re acting like the Master’s ally.”
”I… well, that’s…”
”Kupira is planning something, isn’t she? Either you spill everything you know, or I’ll throw you into the nest of a mother spider who’s looking for extra nutrition before she lays her eggs. I’ll give you a choice, too. ♡”
The demon wore a demon’s smile. A white flag poked out from under her heel. Lizamis, resourceful as ever, had fashioned a flag out of his own silk, signaling his surrender.
—
Summary:
Swirling tensions peak as Klock breaks negotiation lines inside the windowless council hall of the Moon Court nobility. Despite being surrounded by the outer beastkin forces, the arrogant vampire elites confidently assert absolute psychic dominion over their dhampir thralls to dismiss any ceasefire. Klock snaps the verbal stalemate by violently blurring forward to manifest a high-tier Merfolk ally directly out of his shadow, leaving the final tactical leverage completely up in the air.
Klock confronts the stunned vampire council by progressively revealing deep political and military networks that transcend standard human alliances. His leverage reaches a definitive climax when he introduces the notorious Kispe Shisa directly into the inner sanctum of the Moon Court. Cardinal Hanover is forced into a corner where his past geopolitical conspiracies are fully exposed, leaving the fate of the vampire nation hanging on Klock’s severe and non-negotiable ultimatum.
Confronting the vampire nobility within the Moon Court, Klock successfully forces Cardinal Hanover into an unconditional ceasefire by deploying structural contract loopholes and the terrifying presence of Kispe Shisa. While retreating down the castle corridors, Klock gathers historical context regarding Parl Forestier’s grotesque execution of the previous Chosen One and the dark origins of the vampire bloodline. The path to safety is suddenly blocked on a stone bridge as Count Barnea stages a rogue, desperate hostage ambush utilizing Rodney as leverage.
The Moon Court incident concludes with the gruesome suicide of Count Barnea after Kispe’s psychological manipulation. Klock secures Rodney and brings the conflict to a definitive end. Following the battle, the group reunites, and Kispe confronts the former Demon Lord, Lizamis, who has been hiding within Klock’s shoulder.
—
Trivia:
The white council hall contains exactly seventeen seats, but only thirteen nobles are present, leaving four seats empty.
Vampires do not burn under the sun while inside the Moon Court, yet their castle is explicitly built without windows to shut out the light.
Hanover references a specific past event in Barreith where he witnessed Hero Anna displaying power on par with the Six-Horned Demon.
The architecture of the ancient vampire keep explicitly mimics the historical styling elements used by the human Theocracy.
Primlena is explicitly introduced as the concubine of Klock Livorno to claim structural authority.
The historic conflict of fifteen years ago involved intentional destabilization by the vampires among the Kingdom, Theocracy, and Empire.
The Regression of Bliss guarantees historical character continuity despite temporal variations caused by Cianie.
Klock’s family domain was explicitly identified as Livorno, which collapsed due to the spillover of the vampire plots.
The current Hero, Anna, is fundamentally Sylvia Croce, whose family was destroyed in Sand Village.
Klock is strategically weaponizing an alternate version of Sylvia’s anger to justify his campaign of total extermination.
The vampires are completely unaware of the one hundred thousand beast-kin reinforcements until Kispe Shisa lists the current allied assets.
The rules of the Moon Court block any entity whose magic signature exceeds the person inviting them, a constraint Klock bypassed by summoning Kispe via a nested contract loop.
The founder of the Dusselhelm Empire was a dhampir Chosen One who chose to never consume blood throughout his life.
Vampires within this world originate from the Undying-Gorgers, a historical clan that consumed monsters to force an evolution into Higher Beings.
Klock keeps Primlena hidden directly inside his physical form via a hidden water-submersion technique.
The Moon Court possesses specific defensive barriers that prevent reentry once one has left.
Rodney was coerced into spying for the Moon Court through the curse of vampire blood and threats to her companions.
Lizamis gained residency rights to the Moon Court through a past invitation, likely from a high-ranking entity.
—
Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Kuzuha – A young woman with long black hair, a black tail, and black fur covering her arms. Known as the Princess of Karakas Foxes, she utilizes the Law of the Sword Seal and wears a half-undershirt.
• Rosetta – Wolf Princess, petite descendant of Bairan—the One Who Bites and Inherits—and current King of the Wolfkin. She has white hair streaked with black, a large fluffy tail peeking from short pants, and jagged teeth. Cold, combat‑focused, she can sever magic power with her roars.
• Sanrid – The location where Roldi reportedly went the day before the attack on Portline. This movement is a key piece of strategic information Misha provides during her interrogation.
• Klock – Battle-worn Conro master and Chosen One, purple-eyed with a healed gut piercing and massive weapon-like penis, caked in mud after summoning a magical flood, commands the 2,600-strong Brigante Troop west of Conro; pragmatic heir of the Opener, wields Dominance-based Stellar Skill ‘Authority’ (World Conquest), aggressive and vengeful, street-hero fame, and a succubus harem; phases through stone, wields a Cianie Knife with razor-sharp precision, recently betrayed and cornered by vampires in a church, knows Flavia and Suzette, and upholds a personal code—intervening to stop Rosetta from killing Rugandia, honoring the sanctity of princesses despite his brutal nature.
• Julie – A female Vampire noble (Nobility) who manipulates blood to create spears and weapons.
• 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.
• Livorno – The family name of Klock, now associated with the property of Rosetta Beledia within the social hierarchy of the Beastkin.
• Cardinal Hanover – He appears as Theocracy envoy; clarifies Barutoro’s legitimate authority and prevents Hero from being forced into Barreith’s political obligations
• Anna – The legendary Hero, chosen to defeat the Demon Lord. Her past life is Sylvia Croce. She is described as a heavenly being with overwhelming skill and a merciless attitude.
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Viola – Pale vampire maid with fangs and crimson eyes, a Vampire Princess of the Demon Continent, wears a soaked, tattered red dress now mud‑stained and wretched after being overwhelmed by Rosetta. She leads the maids defiantly against Klock, bears a scar from the Hero’s fatal blow, and though bratty and arrogant, shows fierce loyalty.
• Primjune – She is one of the Four Heavenly Kings, appeared as a scaled and finned figure, known for executing the saint’s kidnapping plan.
• Primlena – An orange‑haired merfolk priestess, fierce yet elegant, sister of Sea General Primjune and former Demon Lord officer now in Klock’s inner circle; calm and disciplined, she leads Obsidian Riders on giant fish, wields a trident, seeks Klock’s downfall, and as a revenge‑driven siren bride relays Merfolk and jewel‑clam news. Though her presence is soft and protective, she remains a formidable force.
• Isabella – Forestkin queen, appears after Klock meets the Phantasmal Beast. Leads peace talks with Humans. Mother of Avery, Flavia. Calm, strategic ruler.
• Flavia – Younger sister of Avery (132), second daughter of Queen Isabella of the Forestier line, she is slender with pale, refined features and pointed ears, bearing a servant’s mark and devoted to her mother. As Princess of the Forest People (森人/Moribito, Vaulder), she wields ancient Void magic to shape plant paths, guide travelers through Death Soldier Pass, and sense Fairies, protecting the Fairy realm. Bound to Klock the Chain Binder, she embodies Void loyalty to Goddess Teekua, fights beside him as a decoy against vampires, weaving floral magic to turn the tide. She wears sandal-like footwear and remains composed even in wetlands, quiet yet resolute in her sacred duty.
• Kispe – Queen Kispe, the Succubus Princess Asura, is a winged succubus with long black hair, amethyst eyes, a petite slender build, and a black‑tied one‑piece dress. She is Klock’s lover and healer, teasing him, wielding arousal as a weapon, and manipulating him with a sharp, playful tongue. She communicates telepathically, sharing a flirtatious, mischievous bond.
• Gina – A kind choir member who shows genuine concern for Adelina. She’s a rare ally in this unfamiliar place, offering some comfort and companionship.
• Sylvia – The hero who accuses Klock of abandoning her in her past life. She was reborn as Anna after dying in a fire and holds a grudge against Klock.
• Bandanzine – A veteran Earth General and one of the Four Heavenly Kings, he bears a dignified gaze, grey hair, scarred authoritative presence, and frontline combat skill. Cynical and pragmatic, he distrusts staff officer Parl Forestier, serves as the Demon Lord’s right‑hand ‘Second Demon Lord’.
• 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.
• Rugandia – Slender maid from the Sand Village, in a crisp white uniform with a red apron, appears at the edge of the Croce Estate’s fire, summoned by Sylvia’s father to serve as Sylvia’s loyal attendant. Later revealed as a vampire coven member meeting in the estate’s old church, she balances family service with secret nocturnal duties, wearing a black robe. Now she protects Viola, using Shadow Walking through darkness, though her formal attire hinders combat.
• Parl Forestier – First Princess of fallen Forestier city-state—Demon King’s strategist with sharp ears, high-pitched voice; known for annihilating resistant tribes. Dark Forest-Dweller appearing as young girl (over 800 years old), bronze skin, pointed ears, dark green eyes, snow-white hair with blue tint.
• Linaria – Vampire girl from Sand Village, once victim of the Moon Court Nobility, now a longtime maid of Castle Viola and childhood friend of Viola. Member of the Vampire Maid Corps, she’s quiet, dependable, famed for long, decorated nails, and participates in a dive‑attack on Rosetta before being immobilized by the Law of the Sword Seal.
• Rodney – A member of the Vampire Maid Corps who attempts to reinforce Viola and Rugandia before being bound by Kuzuha’s seal.
• Mermy – Calm, dutiful dampir maid with sharp eyes and freckles, a childhood friend of Viola and member of the Vampire Maid Corps. She fought in the Orrid sky battle, urges retreat at sunrise to avoid burning, serves as Viola’s subordinate, and is a loyal ally. Recently she dove from the sky to attack Rosetta but was intercepted by shadowy bindings.
• Goddess Teekua – The deity who saved Sylvia after her death and granted her rebirth as a hero.
• Rosalie – Daughter of Viscount Albert Fennec, once frail and bedridden under Suzette’s care, now a vampire heir of the Fennec title, innocent of betrayal. Soft, untrained body with thick thighs and a fleshy, well‑endowed frame; long fangs from a bite by Viola. Thin vampire blood drives a fierce hunger. Sheltered by House Borges, under Klock’s custody, she follows the Brigante Troop.
• Lizamis – Palm-sized spider guardian of Kupira, once the human Great Sage and Revealer, now exists as a flickering, husky-voiced entity with eight ribbon-tied legs clad in knightly armor, shifting between shadowy silhouettes and living tapestries woven from portraits and fabric—observing the battlefield from Klock’s shoulder, speaking telepathically only to him, bound to the world by echoes of its past self, and possessing deep knowledge of unique skills and historical lineages, emerging from mirrors, dresses, or painted scenes as if from memory.
• Kupira – A female Fairy outcast with white hair, porcelain skin, and cursed golden eyes, born from Palze’s (a Fairy Queen) obsession and abandonment, chosen by Kispe (a Succubus familiar) as a potential familiar for Klock (a male leader)
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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