After quenching my thirst with the coachman’s blood left by Eleonora, I wiped my mouth with satisfaction.
The world, after all, desires proactive talents. It deserves a high score to be able to judge that human equals master’s meal without being told.
Is this what it feels like for parents savoring the taste of a meal bought with their well-raised daughter’s first salary? I’m not sure since I’ve never been a parent, but Eleonora truly impressed me.
“I could have done better…”
However, looking at the coachman’s bloodied neck, Eleonora’s expression seemed somewhat regretful. Without me saying a word, she was already grading herself, a classic overachiever.
In terms of sword skills, she wasn’t a perfect score.
Of course, I had no experience learning how to use daggers, so I’m not really the one to judge technique.
But I ordered Eleonora to do it ‘as cleanly as possible,’ and if she understood that she needed to kill with minimal bloodshed, then that long gash on the coachman’s neck does seem a bit excessive.
“No, you did well enough.”
She looked so dejected that she resembled a puppy, and I absentmindedly patted her head.
Eleonora flinched for a moment but soon leaned towards my hand. It became awkward to pull my hand away, so I gave her a few more gentle strokes.
Her tail wagged energetically.
Honestly, it was a thoughtless action on my part. But since she didn’t seem to dislike it, I considered it a reward.
Even so, my compliment about her doing well was not just empty words; I genuinely meant it, so it wasn’t a haphazard reward.
It was just a simple improvised command, but the outcome was greater than I expected.
Sure, there were some shortcomings, but I confirmed that Eleonora’s combat power was considerably decent compared to what I had expected.
Still young, but perhaps dragonkin are indeed dragonkin.
Though her dagger skills weren’t perfect, she moved so naturally as if she ignored wind resistance while jumping onto the moving carriage, and that swift kill from behind the coachman showed she had a knack for physical activities.
Then again, considering her race, which is the top among humans in physicality, it’s a bit funny to say she has talent.
However, compared to the taste of blood, her current skill seems a bit lacking. The flavor that lingers on the tongue was three-star quality, but now it doesn’t quite reach that level?
Actually, I’ve never been to a three-star restaurant, so I don’t know. Who rates hospital food anyway?
Well, as long as it tastes good, that’s what matters. I’m not entirely sure, but I’ve decided to lean a little more towards the hypothesis that what I absorb through bloodsucking includes not just current power but also potential.
This is more important information than I expected. Being able to gauge the combination of current strength and future potential through the taste of blood means I can have a rough idea of high points. I don’t know when this will come in handy, but it means I can estimate whether I’ve won the lottery without scratching it.
In any case, the fact that I can potentially use this in battle is a pleasant surprise.
At the very least, it seems she can handle herself against ordinary humans, so simply letting go of the worries I should have had about her is already a return on my investment.
And above all, the greatest harvest was confirming how genuine Eleonora was.
Despite the sudden command, she didn’t hesitate or question me. The moment I spoke, she immediately acted on my order without a shred of hesitation while decapitating the coachman.
Pretending to obey a strong master only with words is easy. I’ve experienced it; when life is at stake, pride becomes incredibly light, and that once-proud head is soon planted firmly into the ground.
But Eleonora’s quick response was shockingly swift for something that seemed calculated.
Without even a slave contract, if she followed my order to kill a human without hesitation, it must mean she genuinely considers me her master.
Does this mean I can trust her a bit more?
The odds of Eleonora’s lunchbox ending and allied ending are slightly increasing.
“Hey—”
…Is it okay to trust her?
Seeing her with a silly expression under my hand makes me feel like my trust is wavering.
Well, if all this is an act, I’d have to send her off to Hollywood with applause.
“Alright, let’s clean this up before anyone arrives.”
As I casually shifted the topic and took my hand off her head, Eleonora looked at me with a regretful face. I pretended not to notice her pitiful gaze and tossed the coachman’s corpse into the carriage.
*
After completely incinerating the blood-sucked corpse to prevent a major disaster of someone discovering it, we resumed our journey.
If we hadn’t released the horse, wouldn’t it have been easier? A thought briefly crossed my mind, but then I remembered that I couldn’t ride a horse anyway, so I absolved Eleonora of any blame.
In fact, there isn’t much difference between walking or riding considering stamina. What consumed our time was navigating the rugged mountain paths, not that I was slower than some mere beast.
Anyway, walking from here would suffice for a day or two. I decided to let go of the thoughts of the horses that fled to find freedom, treating them as divine grapes.
Around a day and a half later, we finally reached Pahera. We moved significantly around the castle walls and stood at the edge of the forest.
“It’s a forest, right?”
Going by just the words, it sounded straightforward, but Eleonora seemed unsure.
But I agreed in this instance. If it looked like this to my eyes, how bad could it be for hers?
The world was divided into black and white.
I stood on the black side—the familiar darkness of the quiet night.
And on the opposite side was the world of white. A fog so dense it seemed to push away the very concepts of day and night, shining as if it had its own light, giving an otherworldly atmosphere.
Even through the eyes of a vampire, seeing beyond that thick fog wasn’t easy.
Flowing slowly around Albresia, the fog barely revealed a faint green hue, suggesting that the forest lay beyond, but it was hard to clearly recognize even a single tree.
‘…It’s safe, right?’
A manly trait—worrying about danger. And then just going for it.
…Oh wait, that means I have to worry now that I’m a lady?
Trying to attach a reason for worry backfired. I hammered down the head of the vivid anxiety rising within me and stepped forward.
Right. What will I do if it’s not safe? I’ve been rushing towards this place for over a month. Now that I have no place to retreat, it’s a luxury to think about useless worries.
Besides, is there even a safe place for me? I fled here because even the mightiest vampire couldn’t guarantee safety in the Sahelrn Duchy.
“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.”
“Ah! Wait a minute!”
Stepping forward, filled with a determination not to step back no matter what challenges approached, I heard Eleonora snap back to reality as she hurriedly followed me.
The share of black in the world was decreasing while the share of white was increasing.
Before I knew it, the boundary was right before us. What flowed in an orderly manner in one direction felt more like a whirlpool than mere fog, and I stepped into the mist.
Swooosh—
The sensation of passing through something thin.
Fog is essentially droplets of water. However, this mist surrounding Albresia proved to be not just normal fog; the moment I crossed the boundary, I felt an oddity, but I didn’t feel any humidity whatsoever.
And the moment I completely crossed the boundary, an astonishing scene unfolded before my eyes.
“Wow…”
“I thought it was structured like this.”
It’s a forest. The fog that appeared to be a giant cloud from the outside completely vanished the moment I crossed the boundary, revealing a lush greenery.
The Mist Labyrinth is the illusionary barrier—a maze of space that confuses uninvited guests.
From the moment I learned of the Mist Labyrinth’s existence, I had always wondered one thing. How exactly do the elves discern who is allowed to enter this place?
It’s entirely possible there’s a barrier that allows only elves to reach the center.
Yet, I had always been curious about how humans become lost the moment they step into the labyrinth while other Ain can at least settle in the outskirts. Now, I felt like I had just seen the answer.
‘Do different races see it differently?’
I am undoubtedly inside the Mist Labyrinth right now. However, as soon as I crossed the boundary, the only thing blocking my view were the dense trees; the dense fog that seemed endless had disappeared, aside from the thin membrane I just passed.
Seeing Eleonora’s reaction confirms it. The fog that enclosed the forest likely didn’t vanish as soon as we entered. This means that the fog indeed still exists here, but perhaps we can see through it simply because we aren’t human?
Looking up at the sky, I noticed another hemispherical patch of mist far in the center of the forest.
A fog within a fog. I can intuitively sense that upon entering, I would undoubtedly become lost.
The territory granted to Ain ends right here, and beyond that must be the domain of the elves.
This mist is an illusion. Because it doesn’t exist, it’s as if it’s nonexistent to those permitted, and it merely confounds the senses of those uninvited. If I were human, I’d be looking at fog at this moment instead of the forest.
“As long as I don’t cross that line, it’s just an ordinary forest?”
It’s a relief that ‘humans do not get lost’ means this. It couldn’t be simpler.
Now that I think about it, if the space were truly all twisted up and the transport position differed for each race, there could’ve been a disaster of us getting separated somewhere along the line.
…Thinking about it like that sends chills down my spine. It’s impossible to consider every variable in the world, yet the unsettling sensation of recalling possibilities I had overlooked never grows familiar.
I should have a lot of experiences getting hit by those little possibilities. In a world where I face constant setbacks, variables are sins, and constants are my only sanctuary.
“Let’s go.”
Shaking off my stray thoughts and shifting my gaze sideways, I saw Eleonora nodding sternly.
We moved cautiously for a while, but fortunately, nothing happened.
But it’s too early to breathe a sigh of relief. I must remain vigilant until we find the place we’ll stay for a while.
In this place, I would act as an ordinary vampire, not my progenitor.
One of the wandering vampires hunting for food in Pahera. With that feeling, I would disguise my identity while preserving my strength as much as possible.
However, there’s one limitation: actions are restricted during the day. In other words, I must find a place to hide before the sun rises.
Just then, in the breeze that blew, I faintly caught the scent of my kin.
A manly trait—solving problems instead of pondering over them.
If the model answer is right in front of me, there’s no reason not to look at it, right? For now, let’s see how other vampires are living.
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