Hiding in the shadows, I hold my breath. After I lick my moist lips, still residue of the recent blood meal, I hurriedly shrouded myself in the cloak of darkness.
The moment my body fully melds into the shadows, a heavily armed group of soldiers appears at the end of the main street.
They’re here faster than I thought.
There are about fifty of them. I can only describe it as an overly optimistic assessment on my part. Do they really think they can handle this with just that?
“Vampires! Exterminate them!!”
The soldiers draw their swords in unison and charge toward me.
They reach me in an instant, but with terrifying momentum, they rush past me.
What the soldiers discovered wasn’t me, the one who was cunningly hiding in the shadows with magic. What they saw were about ten vampires feasting on the blood of the soldier they had just felled and an unfortunate civilian who hadn’t managed to escape.
Caught up in the spectacle of others wreaking havoc on their territory, they passed right by me, failing to notice even the simplest illusion that would have given away my presence if they had just looked a little closer.
“If you don’t know, you’ll die.”
As the rear guard passes directly in front of me, I leap from the shadows and swiftly strike down their necks.
I never would have thought I’d actually be doing something that looks like a scene from a historical drama.
You know, like when a master strikes down their opponents in a flash.
The only tiny difference is that while those masters might just knock someone unconscious by hitting pressure points, I smash down their vertebrae to kill them.
But anyway, as long as I don’t waste any blood, it’s just a minor difference.
Using the advantage of surprise, I knock out four soldiers without a scratch (survivors: none. Deceased due to cervical fracture) and finally start to mess with the remaining soldiers who are suddenly turning to notice me.
The moves, now repeated hundreds or even thousands of times, have become so familiar that I could yawn.
I begin taking them down one by one, ensuring they bleed as little as possible; if it gets urgent, I can’t help but break them, too.
As I lay them down, I count exactly fifty-four of them.
It took me less than two minutes to take them all down. Not bad at all.
But my mealtime is running short. I waste no time quickly sucking from the ones in worse condition before moving on to the better ones.
As I drink their blood, I glance down the main street where the vampires that almost became the soldiers’ target are stealing glances at me while they continue their meal.
Some act nonchalant, while others show signs of tension, but the second group doesn’t seem inclined to move, indicating that I’ve built a fair amount of trust with them.
Even if fifty of them run at someone like me, who can barely get by with two soldiers, they seem to think it’s a given that I’ll win. I’m bewildered by their misplaced faith.
It’s funny to think that no type of promise has ever been exchanged between us.
“Well, as long as they don’t interfere with my meals, it’s none of my business.”
It doesn’t matter if they choose to believe in me or not; I have no duty to rescue them should anything happen.
However, their existence is somewhat useful to me, so I’ll leave them be.
The soldiers of Pahera paradoxically underestimate the collective strength of multiple vampires compared to a single one causing trouble.
When a report comes in of a single enemy, they get tense, but for multiples, they typically allocate personnel relative to their numbers, a fact proven through experience.
Have they grown too accustomed to the average Pahera vampires, who rely solely on numbers? Regardless, it’s a funny phenomenon caused by the extreme variance among the vampire species.
Of course, if they truly were at the average level of Pahera vampires, fifty soldiers would be more than enough. It wouldn’t even be a problem to handle a gang of vampires with just thirty.
Moreover, when they arrive on-site, they get so caught up in the vampires clustered together that not many think I’m hiding somewhere waiting to ambush them.
If the area had enough supporting personnel, just allocating a few more would solve the problem.
But where are we? If personnel are carelessly dispatched, they should brace themselves to lose half the city the moment a pack of Beastmen breaches the walls. That’s right here, in Pahera.
The result is a bizarre division of roles where no verbal contract has even been established.
I’m grateful for the weak ones providing appropriate distractions, while the other vampires hunt the stragglers as long as they don’t touch the prey I’ve secured, creating a mutually beneficial relationship.
While I’m draining the last of the fifty-four, a strong presence fleetingly glimmers in my direction before disappearing.
It’s a moment that could be dismissed as merely my imagination, but without hesitation, I stop my meal.
“That spear-wielder again.”
The first time we met, they practically took my arm off with a single spear throw.
Despite still being deft at concealing their presence, I now can’t miss them if I’m paying close enough attention.
That one’s still troublesome. I might have a bit of blood left to drink, but I swiftly rise and exit the city over the broken castle wall without any remorse.
Casting a glance back, I see other vampires, who saw me fleeing, quickly skedaddling off, clueless as to why.
I flee quickly outside the castle walls, entering a calm state of calculation.
Wrapping it up here isn’t bad, but should I go for one more round today? I’ve managed to gather a decent number, and it hasn’t consumed as much time as I thought, so I feel quite relaxed.
“If it were back in the early days, I would’ve been satisfied with just one haul a day. I’ve definitely picked up some know-how.”
They say the more you eat, the less your tolerance; I can confirm that. I can now tackle up to about a hundred at once without even feeling nauseous.
By the way, my daily record stands at around 130. It was about two weeks ago; I didn’t bother to count precisely, but it was roughly in that range.
Considering those around me manage to survive just fine with an average of one blood meal every two weeks, I’d probably win in a vampire food-eating contest.
It’s unfortunate that we live in a world that isn’t peaceful enough for such entertainment.
Still, I can’t become complacent. I now have one more reason to survive and make it back.
The weak-hunting vampires I used as distractions are now full from my last haul and retreat, so it’s time for solo actions.
I think of Eleonora, who will be waiting in the forest, and cautiously start searching for my next entry point.
*
“This month, has it shrunk again?”
“… Yes. The number of those against the organization is steadily increasing.”
Boom!!
Rudrik slams his fist on the desk, making the nearby subordinates flinch.
The fact that the desk hasn’t shattered yet is proof that Rudrik is somewhat rational, but from his subordinates’ perspective, they can’t help but tense up under their increasingly irritated leader’s glare.
Especially since the cause lies outside their capacity to solve it.
“Scarlet, that bitch…”
Rudrik grits his teeth.
Scarlet. A vampire who suddenly appeared in the Mist Labyrinth about three months ago.
Everything started going awry from the moment she showed up.
During his first encounter with Aria, who uses the alias Scarlet, Rudrik broke the long-standing tradition by not demanding tribute from the new resident.
The reason? Aria seemed stronger than him.
Her arrogant and beautiful demeanor was undoubtedly that of a strong one, and for Rudrik, who typically exploits the weak, she was the type he did not want to provoke.
It was somewhat disappointing that he couldn’t collect tribute from a new resident, but when the reports of her hunting prowess started coming in, Rudrik marveled at his foresight.
She was, as he had predicted, quite strong.
The Security Maintenance Force Rudrik formed primarily exploits the weak to generate unearned income.
They risk their lives infiltrating human cities, and in turn, if weaker vampires manage to succeed in hunting relying on experience and luck, they take a share of that.
Those who defy him meet death. It’s a system built on the logic of power, and naturally, it doesn’t apply to stronger opponents.
So, until that moment, Rudrik believed that as long as Scarlet and he didn’t interfere with each other, there wouldn’t be any issues.
However, the problem arose from the lower ranks.
A weakling named Lowell, who barely scraped by on tribute exemptions through menial tasks, suddenly severed all ties with the Security Maintenance Force and attached himself to Aria, heralding a gust of change.
Lowell, who should have served as a warning for what happens when you betray the organization, was always glued to Aria whenever he left the forest, and as a result, to this day, no “unfortunate accident” has befallen him.
As he was left unattended during this time, some perceptive vampires began to sense the abnormality.
All the vampires in this forest regularly pay blood or human currency to the Security Maintenance Force.
As for the exact payment methods, they usually pass with an understanding of those they have personal relationships with, but unfortunately, it was all too easy to notice that Lowell, who just played the errand boy, had cut ties with the organization.
Naturally, the attention of the vampires turned toward Lowell and the Aria that accompanied him.
And as they observed them, the vampires realized one major fact.
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