[206] The Poor Vampire’s Deflated Fate
Chapter 206: The Poor Vampire’s Deflated Fate
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My eyes parted to find the tiled bath rooftop, swaying with the reflection of warm water. I could hear the same song I had heard earlier in the bath, though this time it came from another room in the far, that my heightened senses caught.
It must be Elara who’s listening to that.
I stared at the ceiling for a while before sighing and pushing myself to my feet. Such old memories, carved to my very origin, it's been a while since I went through them like this. “She’s always been a strong woman, even when she didn’t have strength,” I murmured, shaking my head.
She never gave up, never backed down, she fought even when her spear was broken.
Currently, however, she was at Level 99, she was at her weakest I remember. She was a tank physically, she could destroy mountains with a wave of her spear, and yet this Elara looked weak like never before. Her skin complexion, which I remember to be as healthy as sunlight, looked as pale as ash now. If I had to guess, today was the first time she saw the sun in months, perhaps years. What reason did she have to step out of her castle, after all? What reason to stand beside the window for a wave of light?
She was a woman who was mentally broken and was running on zero drive. She saw no point in any action. Everyone she loved had died and passed away, except for a very few exceptions. I’m surprised that she hadn’t taken her own life yet.
Then again, I could guess why she hadn’t. She didn’t want to abandon the last thing that reminded her of her husband, her love. This castle, this city. She wanted to live, if only to keep looking at these familiar walls, that’s why she hadn’t killed herself.
This… stupid woman…
The sense of guilt in my heart felt like a numb fire. It’s not my fault that I died, one could argue, but I felt responsible for all of this. Perhaps if I had chosen to let go of her back then, she wouldn’t have been this tortured?
When I chose that Demoness as my first wife instead of her, she turned around and ran off. We’ve gone through life and death together for years, years before I met that stupid demon girl, so perhaps she felt more deserving of my hand at marriage?
I ran after her to calm her down that day, but perhaps if I hadn’t convinced her to return, she wouldn’t have had to suffer like this. She would have hated me for a while, but then forgot and moved on. However, due to my selfishness, my greed to not lose her, I tied her down with me…
No, it’s pointless to blame the past like this. I shook my head, drying myself with a command of my willpower. I couldn’t bother to do it on my own today. I grabbed the clean outfit the maids had left, put it on, and walked out of the bath. Right outside, an unexpected guest awaited me in the hallways beside a window.
Cold white hair rustled as she moved her head slightly, while glossy eyes stared at me with curious eyes. “Ah, you’re finally out,” she said, “you spent quite a long time there, so I came to check.”
[Image Here]
The Vampire, Anoria. She was from a family of vampires who had sworn loyalty to the Emperor; the youngest daughter of that family was appointed as a maid to the Crown Princess Elara more than three hundred years ago.
“Ah, yes, I fell asleep,” I lied.
This woman had been fulfilling this role ever since then. She’s an extremely loyal person, someone so dedicated to her position that her sense of duty overcame her personal desires and romantic feelings. She chose to distance herself from the Hero with the heart of a stone, begrudgingly rejecting my invitation to join the Hero’s Party, so as to not become a romantic obstacle for the princess.
And I still remember her glare of resentment when I married a demoness instead of marrying the princess, for whom she had sacrificed her own romantic life. That glare of hers only intensified when I took three more wives. If she had known things would end polygamously, perhaps she wouldn’t have given up?
The chemistry between her and me was quite interesting, I missed the sensation of her lips against my neck. Sadly, it was too late by then to go back to how things were, so I could only observe as she kept an expressionless face while other women happily lived her dream life.
“I see,” she stared at me eerily. “You… smell familiar, honestly. Odd how this is our first meeting. Perhaps you’re the descendant of someone I knew?”
She had drunk my blood enough to touch my soul, so it's not a surprise that she found my scent familiar, even in a new body. I stood in silence for a while before shrugging, “I wouldn’t know, I’m an orphan. Perhaps my parents were truly some big shots?”
She smiled a little at the joking tone I used, nodding, “Mhm, perhaps. If, for some reason, you ever wish to become a Damphir, feel free to let me have a taste of your neck,” she said with a wink, turning around. “Let us go meet the Duchess now, she’s been waiting for you-”
“You want a taste?” My words caused the maid to freeze on her spot. She slowly turned to me, smiling coldly.
“You shouldn’t joke about such things, young master,” she said, “I might take them seriously.” She turned back to me, stepping closer.
…My Elara's state was pitiful. While it shocked me greatly earlier, it's not as if there's no way to fix it. In fact, there was a solution to all of this.
It's me.
I know what to do now.
****
[Third Person Point of View]
“You shouldn’t joke about such things, young master,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, and she turned to face him. “I might take them seriously.”
She's been suspicious of him since the first time she saw him. Of course, he was with Lady Sieran, so all suspicions were debunked just by her sheer presence, but seeing him effortlessly fight those demonic angels caused her suspicions to return.
She didn't think he was an enemy or anything like that, no, but just that… he might be something he didn't show. It made Anoria’s heart flutter in a sense of fear and anticipation just thinking about it.
“I’m serious,” he replied, stepping closer. At first, she thought he was bluffing, playing some kind of game, and decided to scare him a little. Of course, he was a guest of the lady, she couldn’t go around biting him.
But as he closed the distance between them, his scent became more potent, and her nostrils flared involuntarily. Anoria gulped, closing her eyes. What’s this? Not even his most recent descendants used to release such an intense scent. What’s with this guy? Why does he smell so much like… him?
She tried to step back, her body trembling with barely contained resistance, a hand on her forehead. "Hah, stay back," she warned, her voice faltering. "You don't know what you're asking for."
“Oh, I’m rewarding you, not asking you, you stupid girl,” he said, ignoring her warning, his arms encircling her, pulling her into a firm embrace. The warmth of his body, the intoxicating scent of his blood so close, it was overwhelming. Her instincts screamed at her to take a bite, her fingers twitching, as she gulped again. Her mind yelled at her to sink her fangs into his neck and drink deeply.
She tried to push him away, but he held her tighter, eyes matching. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, strong and steady. She fought against the urge, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting desires. She wanted to push him away, to flee before she lost control, but at the same time, she wanted nothing more than to give in to the primal hunger that consumed her.
"Don't blame me later," she groaned, which turned into a chuckle, her voice strained. With that, she gave in to the irresistible urge and sank her fangs into his neck.
His blood rushed into her mouth, warm and rich, filling her with a sensation of pure ecstasy. Her eyes rolled back, and she let out a muffled moan, her mind going numb from the pleasure.
N-no... no way...! This feeling… she thought, her eyes clouding. This… as I thought…? Impossible! As it had happened many times before, 300 years ago, her consciousness slipped away into a blissful haze.
When she finally finished drinking, she collapsed to her knees, her body trembling. He smiled down at her as she looked up at him with wide, shaky eyes, tears trailing down her cheeks.
"My... my lord?!" The words felt strange on her tongue, unsatisfying. She had never called him that before, not truly. "No, Seriphoth, y-you bastard?!" she said, even as a grin spread across her face. That’s what she’s called him from the first day she met him, for she received a harsh scolding for attacking him and almost killing him.
The emotions were too much, overwhelming, and her lips quivered. He looked down at her, reaching out a hand, “Stop crying,” he said, “we need to go meet your lady.”
****
It was nighttime already. The Duchess was supposed to take a shower with her old friend and sister in marriage who she hadn't met in a long time. Before she realized it, however, she ended up drinking with her instead.
It was nighttime, an old gramophone played a nostalgic song, and blue flames danced behind her couch in the meeting room, while Sieran sat opposite her.
– It can't be said I'm an early bird, It's ten o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, How do you sleep so well?
The song seemed to make her more drunk than she was, as old memories greeted her. Huh, had he called this ‘Too Sweet’? It sounded like a song that suited her, the first time she heard it. Now she understood why, was this fate?
She looked at Sieran. All four of them had favorites from the foreign songs that he would often sing on their own, and among them, this was her favorite. Elara smiled seeing Sieran dozing off, Looks like she likes the song too. She had drank lightly, yet already dozed off with a goofy expression on her face, while the Duchess’ face was a complete opposite of that.
Instead of giggling and chatting with the empty air like Sieran, she wore a solemn face as she stared at the air, a bottle near her lips.
She didn't like fighting, she didn't like wielding her spear. That was one reason she hadn't ascended to heaven yet because she hated battles. Because every time she swung her spear, she recalled those days in the old vampire hideout where she clashed blades with her long-gone lover.
To this day she wondered, if instead of being prude about it and choosing to not get physical with him, she had given into his arms, would he have still been with her? Perhaps he would never have got himself mingled with the demoness if he already belonged to her?
Sadly, time was harsh. Time bygone was time to never return. Choices made were choices that couldn't be reversed. What's the point of sorrow and regret, she knew, but she couldn't stop her lips from chugging on the bottle more.
…What a meaningless life I'm leading.
[Image Here]
She felt pathetic. After defeating those demonic angels, she felt good for a while. Then, when adrenaline calmed down, her mind began to see his face instead. His ghost seemed to haunt her even to this day. They clashed with each other’s blades long enough for him to flash before her whenever she swung her spear.
“Haah,” she let out a sigh.
As if on cue, the door creaked open with a push of Anoria’s hands. The door opened as the boy named Aqua stepped inside, followed by Anoria. His presence broke her train of thought.
Elara looked up, raising an eyebrow at his arrival. Sieran let out a soft snore, too drunk and oblivious to the interruption.
"Ah, you're finally here," Elara said, her voice carrying a hint of surprise. She raised her bottle, "Care to join me for a drink?"
She usually didn’t drink with men, but since he was just a kid she supposed it was fine. The young man stared at her in silence, however, unlike the usual men she had to associate with, his gaze lacked any dark lust. Rather, he looked… angry?
With a gentlemanly nod, closing his eyes, he accepted, “Sure.”
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