"No! Let me go! Please, let me go!"
"Easy there, little lady. Don't struggle. It won't do you any good."
Deep in a secluded forest off the highway leading north from the ruins of Luther, a young sister found herself cornered by a group of nearly ten men.
Several hours had passed since Glen had defeated Melfius, and the world was slowly surrendering to the dim twilight of evening. Even if someone happened to pass by the highway, they would never hear her unless she screamed at the top of her lungs. The fact that they had dragged a girl so deep into the woods made their identity clear: they were a band of Ruffians who shunned the light of day.
"I thought you were helping me! Did you trick me?"
"Now, now, we really did save you from that monster, didn't we?"
The tactic these Ruffians employed was a classic one. They would intervene to "save" a target from a monster attack, pose as kind adventurers, and lure their victim to a deserted location. In this case, they had likely told the sister that a companion was injured nearby and needed her help.
It was a ruse so cliché that almost no one trusted it anymore, but in the rare instance of someone seeking help in a state of utter desperation, the sheer relief of being rescued could override their better judgment. This sister was exactly such a case.
A man with a particularly massive build, seemingly the leader, caught both of the sister’s wrists in one hand.
"Besides, we weren't lying. We haven't been feeling too well lately, so we want the Sister to 'nurse' us back to health."
Even a sheltered sister understood instinctively that the "nursing" they spoke of was anything but literal.
Another man laughed mockingly. "Listen, Sister. Wandering around outside the city all by yourself is basically an invitation to be attacked, isn't it?"
"But I told you, our town was attacked by monsters! Everyone was... k-killed...!"
She was a Novice Sister who had only recently taken her vows, one of the few survivors of the tragedy at Luther. An older sister had shoved her into a small underfloor storage space, where she had miraculously remained hidden until the end. Fortunately, the collapsed rubble had obscured the floorboards from the monsters' eyes, and because the entrance hadn't been completely blocked, she had been able to crawl out once the slaughter ended.
However, as a novice who had only just begun to learn the basics of Holy Magic, there was nothing she could have done in the ruins of her home.
Driven to the brink by terror and despair, she had fled the town in a daze with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had been weeping alone, exhausted to the core, when the monsters found her—leading directly to this current nightmare.
The men responded with a collective roar of laughter.
"That story again? Sister, lies need at least a shred of plausibility if you want people to believe them. You should take a page out of our book."
"It’s the truth! If you don't believe me, go look at the town! Please...!"
"Yeah, yeah, we get it. Tell you what—if you 'nurse' us with enough devotion, maybe we'll find some faith and help you out after all."
No matter how much the sister pleaded through her tears, the men only sneered. Not a single soul among them listened.
The leader’s thick hand gripped her habit. The sister froze, paralyzed by the sheer repulsiveness of his touch.
"S-Someone—"
"Nobody’s coming all the way out here."
"Oh? Is that so? But I’ve already arrived."
The Ruffians reacted with instant tension, then immediately relaxed. They had been startled by the voice, but when they turned, they saw only a girl in an elegant dress.
Yet, while his men were collectively underwhelmed, the leader felt a sudden, sharp chill prickle the back of his neck.
(Wait. Did this girl... just descend from the sky?)
He shook the thought away. No, that was impossible. It must have been his imagination—the way her dress fluttered in the wind just made it look that way.
Standing roughly 150 centimeters tall, she appeared to be in her early teens. She was dressed in an aristocratic style that felt slightly antiquated for the current era. Her dress featured a wide balloon skirt adorned with many frills, contrasting vivid crimson with pure white, accented by high-class black trimmings that exuded a quiet elegance. Her headdress, shaped like a wide-brimmed hat, possessed a refined dignity far beyond the reach of a commoner. Despite her small stature, she radiated the aura of a poised lady from head to toe.
Her silver hair, which transitioned into a strange red hue toward the tips, was tied into long low-twin-tails behind her headdress. Her eyes were as vivid a red as her dress, and her skin was a fine, translucent white that seemed to hold the moonlight. Her appearance was best described by the classic metaphor: a doll crafted with the most exquisite, cold beauty.
She carried no obvious weapons. At most, she held a black, ornate parasol, but to men armed with swords and axes, she was effectively unarmed. She was a beautiful, fragile girl who could be pinned down with a single hand without even needing to draw a blade.
"N-No..."
The sister, who had felt a spark of hope at the thought of a rescuer, sank back into despair. The men felt the opposite. They had panicked thinking a knight or an adventurer had arrived, but their "intruder" was a remarkably lovely young lady. If anything, their haul for the night had just doubled.
The doubt that had flashed through the leader’s mind vanished.
"Well, well... what brings a little lady like you out here all by yourself?"
The leader was certain. Because his work required stealth, he was skilled at sensing his surroundings. This girl had definitely come alone; no one else was hiding in the shadows.
Even under the leering gazes of several large men, the girl didn't flinch. Instead, she appraised each of them in turn before letting out a deeply disappointed sigh.
"Sigh. I suppose there was no way I’d meet someone like that in a place like this."
"Huh?"
The Ruffians didn't understand her words, but they decided it didn't matter.
"She must be a daughter from a high-ranking family. Man, first the sister, and now this. Since when did high-class girls start wandering around alone?"
"If we play our cards right, we can squeeze a fortune out of her family."
"Wait, wait. Before that, we should at least have a turn..."
Two men slowly circled behind the girl to block her escape. She didn't even change her expression.
At this point, the Ruffians should have been much more concerned by the girl’s lack of reaction.
"So, you were attacking that woman. Are you uncles 'bad people'?"
The leader didn't answer. He simply chuckled, his shoulders shaking.
"You're out of luck, kid. Since you saw us, we can't exactly let you go home for free—if you catch my drift."
"I see... and what do you plan to do with me?"
"Well, obviously... we're going to do this!"
One of the men lunged at her from behind. Without even turning around, the girl skewered his throat with the tip of her parasol, which concealed a razor-sharp blade.
"—Wh-?"
The sound escaped from one of the surviving Ruffians. It was a merciless strike, performed as if she could see behind her. The man who had been pierced couldn't even manage a dying scream; he simply blew bloody bubbles from his mouth, his face twisted in confusion.
He collapsed. Blood soaked slowly into the dark earth. The girl gave her parasol a sharp flick to clear the blood from the blade.
"So? What were you going to do, exactly?"
"Y-You bitch!"
The remaining Ruffians drew their weapons in unison. Their minds couldn't quite process what had happened, but the fact that their comrade had been murdered before their eyes was undeniable. The leader grabbed the sister’s arm, pulling her up.
"Don't move! One step and this woman—"
Before he could use her as a shield, a hole was punched through his heart. The leader dropped dead instantly.
"No, uncle. You shouldn't talk so much when you're trying to use a hostage."
The girl had fired a Magic Bullet from the tip of her parasol. To the Ruffians, it looked like their leader had been struck down by some invisible, inexplicable magic. Incomprehensible fear erupted into screams. A band of brigands armed with steel trembled before a single girl who didn't even look like a warrior.
"Big Sister, if you're scared, please close your eyes. It will be over soon."
The girl smiled softly at the sister slumped on the ground, twirling her parasol as she spoke. She looked as though she were about to begin a dance at a ball.
"Uncle Stra taught me that bad men like these are 'people it is okay to kill.'"
As per her declaration, the battle was over in less than ten seconds.
It was a total annihilation. When the sister, who had squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, finally looked up, she saw only the silent corpses of the Ruffians and the girl elegantly readjusting her parasol in the center of the bloodbath.
The girl was humming a short, melodic tune.
It was a gruesome scene—a single girl having slaughtered nearly ten men—yet the sister couldn't look away. The image of the girl singing with the moonlight above and the corpses and blood below was strangely ethereal. She possessed a cold, haunting beauty that felt detached from reality.
The brief melody ended. A single drop of spray-back blood clung to the girl’s cheek. She wiped it away with a small finger, reflexively touched it to her tongue—and spat.
"Disgusting. As I thought, the blood of men like these is wretched."
The coldness in that voice, devoid of all interest, finally snapped the sister back to her senses.
If the sister had known anything about monsters, she might have realized what the girl was and screamed in terror. However, in this instance, her status as a sheltered novice who had never left her town worked entirely in her favor.
The sister didn't think twice about the girl’s red-and-black eyes or why she had tasted the blood. She stood up, trying to keep the corpses out of her sight.
"Y-You saved me... didn't you? Who are you?"
The girl turned. Her eyes had instantly returned to their human appearance. she put a finger to her lips.
"Hmm? I'm just a passerby, stranger Big Sister."
"Are you... an adventurer?"
"Hehe. Do you know many adventurers who dress like this?"
The girl smiled as the sister struggled for a response.
"Unfortunately, I have to go. I’m keeping a very scary person waiting."
"N-No!"
The sister turned pale. If the girl left, she would be alone in the dark. In a world where monsters prowled the night, she didn't believe she could survive until morning.
But the girl spoke to her with the kindness of an older sibling, despite her youthful appearance.
"There's no need to be so afraid. Look."
The sister looked where she pointed. At first, she saw nothing in the dim light, but soon the unmistakable clank of armor grew louder.
"Hey! Are you all right? What happened here?"
It was a squad of silver-clad knights—a unit of the Chrys Knights.
"I-I'm saved! Sir Knight! Over here! I'm over here!"
This time, the sister waved her hands in genuine relief. It appeared to be a sizable patrol. Tears of gratitude blurred her vision as she turned back to thank her savior.
The girl was gone.
"Wait... where did she...?"
The girl who had been standing there just seconds ago had vanished like a phantom. The sister searched the area until the knights reached her, but there was nothing left but the indifferent moonlight pouring down from above.
She worried that her story—that a girl in a beautiful dress had saved her—would be dismissed as a hallucination. However, after the knights inspected the scene and the corpses—particularly the leader with the hole in his chest—they treated her with the utmost care and protection.
The sister finally let out a sob, the weight of the night finally lifting.
"A Vampire saved a child? That's... impossible..."
She never heard the knight’s whispered disbelief.
It had been a dull detour.
Flying through the sky as the pale light began to grow, Nastassja felt a sense of disappointment, as if thick clouds had obscured the moon. It was a waste of time to look for potential in men like that. There were many reasons humans became bandits, but ultimately, they were all people who had run away from their own lives. Expecting the radiance of a soul that burned with passion from such people only resulted in the taste of blood like sewage.
Lately, she found herself sighing more and more often.
"Sigh... I want to meet one soon. A strong, wonderful gentleman of this country."
Ideally, she would sneak into the Holy City or the Royal Capital right now to appraise the strong men there. She wanted to fight them on the spot. She wanted to kill—to love—them immediately. But because causing an unscheduled commotion would be "troublesome," she had been strictly forbidden from entering cities or contacting knights and adventurers. She fully intended to protest the assumption that she would cause trouble.
Before long, she reached her destination.
It was a stretch of highway some distance from the ruins of Luther. To a human, it looked unremarkable, but Nastassja’s eyes instantly saw the deep scars of battle and the man standing at the center of them, assimilated into the darkness.
She opened her parasol to slow her descent. The man spoke without turning around.
"Where have you been wandering, Nastassja? My daughter."
The girl—the Vampire Nastassja—smiled as she twirled her parasol.
"My apologies, Father. I've been terribly bored lately."
"Father"—Oscarrain—was clearly not in a good mood. He's as irritable as ever, Nastassja thought with a secret sigh. But she had followed his orders and stayed out of sight, so whatever was bothering him was likely something else.
"So, what happened here?" she asked, eyeing the ruined earth.
After a long silence, Oscarrain spoke with a voice heavy with disappointment. "Melfius has been slain."
"Hmm."
She felt neither sadness nor disbelief. "I see. It serves him right for looking down on humans."
Melfius had been the embodiment of the arrogant, old-fashioned belief that Vampires were the absolute peak of existence. He loved killing humans on a whim and considered it his natural right. Because of that, he had been somewhat favored by their father, who clung to similar ideologies.
It was an inevitable end. Nastassja’s eyes sparkled with interest. "More importantly, that means there's a human in this country strong enough to kill Melfius! I simply must meet them. Do you have any leads?"
"..." Oscarrain remained silent for several seconds. "...Judging by the residue, he appears to be a wielder of flames."
"Oh! A mage, perhaps? Or a swordsman? I hope he's a wonderful gentleman... I want him to burn my very soul to ash with those flames!"
Nastassja pressed her cheeks with both hands, her heart racing. Melfius might have been a fool, but he wasn't weak. A human capable of killing him might actually be able to give her the dance of death she craved.
Oscarrain cut through her excitement. "It cannot be helped. From tomorrow, you shall stay by my side."
"No."
She refused instantly.
"You're just going to attack another town and kill people pointlessly, aren't you? I told you, I hate that."
Finally, Oscarrain turned to face her. His temper was visibly fraying, but Nastassja showed no fear. She hugged herself, her expression solemn.
"The act of taking a life should be sublime, beautiful, and precious. It’s something a human can only experience once."
"And yet, you just killed several people on your way here. You didn't think I'd notice you breaking my orders?"
"They were just bandits. I don't care about foul, weak men. I'm talking about a wonderful gentleman with a strong, beautiful soul."
She glared back at him. He wasn't the only one who was annoyed.
"I think you should just attack the Holy City and get it over with, Father. Why are you still lurking in the shadows?"
Nastassja had only followed the father she despised to this country because she hoped his war would lead her to her ideal "gentleman." Instead, he spent days turning random humans into monsters or watching from the sidelines as small towns were raided.
"You're always saying it, Father. That noble Vampires have no enemies to fear."
She didn't care about his plans, but if Vampires were the pinnacle, why resort to such petty schemes? He should simply walk through the front gates and dominate.
"It's strange. You seem almost cowardly lately, Father. It's as if you’re terrified of the Saint’s power and you're doing everything you can to stay in the safety zon—"
Oscarrain’s hand snapped around her throat before she could finish.
"Foolish girl. How tragic. Where did you learn to mock your own father?"
"Ghk...!"
His grip was enough to sink his fingers into her flesh, and he hoisted her easily into the air. Nastassja’s vision blurred as she gasped for air, but she met his gaze with defiance. Oscarrain looked at her with a coldness that no father should ever show a child.
"Is this the influence of that weak king?"
"Don't... speak ill of... Uncle Stra..."
"Silence."
If Nastassja were human, her neck would have snapped. As a Vampire, she would regenerate even if her spine were crushed, and she would only lose consciousness briefly from suffocation. But that didn't mean she didn't feel the agony.
Just as her body began to convulse involuntarily, he released her. She hit the ground hard.
She coughed violently, dragging air back into her lungs as her vision returned to normal. She felt no shock or terror at his violence.
After all, this was nothing new.
"Very well. I am a generous father. I shall overlook your foolishness this once, my daughter."
His mood had apparently improved now that he had seen her suffer. Oscarrain turned his back on her and walked toward the center of the scorched clearing.
"If it bothers you so much, you may do as you wish with the human who killed Melfius."
"...Oh? Are you sure?" She wasn't being sarcastic; it was a genuine question. If given freedom, she would gladly infiltrate the Holy City.
"It was a miscalculation to lose Melfius here. If you can eliminate an uncertain element for me, it is for the best." Oscarrain paused, his voice dropping an octave. "But if you become a hindrance, your 'rebellious phase' ends. I will re-educate you from scratch until you never dream of defying me again."
"..."
He called it education. To Nastassja, there was no difference between his "education" and torture.
Essentially, she could do as she pleased as long as she didn't interfere. It was better than being stuck as his shadow. She decided she would head toward the Holy City soon. She wanted to see the civilization humans had built; it would make a wonderful story to tell her uncle.
The Vampire King she called "Uncle Stra" currently ruled their homeland. Her father hated him because he had lost the throne to him, but to Nastassja, Stra was kinder and more fatherly than the man standing before her. If not for him, she might have become just another mindless killer.
"Fine. Then I'm going."
There was no reply. Her father didn't even look back. He wasn't entrusting her with revenge out of trust; he was doing it because it was a convenient calculation. Even if she never returned, he would likely only let out a single sigh of disappointment.
She stood up and gripped her parasol. "Goodbye, Father."
She hadn't intended it to be so, but ironically, those were the last words Nastassja would ever speak to him as a daughter.
The next time they met, she would no longer call him father.