Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Chapter 419

Kabilla only stopped after causing complete havoc. Once she had sent the near-dead humans retreating, she commanded her Draconic Servants to gather the sea creatures scattered across the muddy shore. The bone-clawed minions weren’t as precise as humans, but they were still capable of distinguishing unconscious fish and picking them up.

A sea disaster was a crisis, but at the same time, an opportunity. Amid the massive changes brought by the great beast of the ocean, humans had the wisdom to seize the bounty left in its wake. The sea creatures struck by the Cloud Ray’s fins were left stunned, swept ashore along with the tide. All the humans had to do to claim them was bend down and pick them up. From fish never before seen to hermit crabs and lobsters—the day’s harvest from the tidal flats was beyond generous.

Watching from a high vantage point, I let out a whistle.

“Wow. So an Elder can even fight off a tidal wave and win.”

“That’s only to be expected. They once went toe-to-toe with the Holy Crown Church, after all~.”

“Hilde, who would win in a fight between the Six Generals and an Elder?”

It was the classic "vs battle" that men were so fond of. Hilde narrowed her eyes and asked in return.

“Father, are you a child?”

“Well, I am one of the few young people left in this land.”

“Who in their right mind would fight an Elder to win? Beating them won’t even kill them.”

She dismissed my question as childish, but I knew Hilde’s background. She was part of the Security Division of the Martial Nation. There was no way she hadn’t evaluated the nation’s military strength compared to its neighbors—especially one that treated human blood as a resource. She grumbled as she gave her answer.

“The Six Generals are the peak of human talent. With the full support of the Martial Nation, if one of them risked their life and burned through all their abilities, they might—just for a single moment—surpass an Elder.”

Because they were living humans, because they had the potential to change in an instant—if they concentrated all their power and growth into one strike, it might reach even an Elder. Hilde was certain of that.

“But even then, the Elder still wouldn’t die.”

That was the Martial Nation’s greatest weakness. No matter how exceptional one’s talent, no matter how honed their skill, defeating a vampire required a power bordering on the supernatural.

Unfortunately, the Martial Nation had no such power. Their only true weapon was the sacred blade tempered by the Saint herself—Celestial Concord, Aymeder. And even that was shackled by the constraints of the nation, requiring the Communication Corps’ strength to wield at full potential.

“Luckily, the Elders don’t leave the Mist Duchy~. There’s no darkness outside its borders, so nothing shields them from sunlight or the Holy Crown’s foresight. To a vampire, the world outside the Mist Duchy is a pitch-black abyss. If they want to project power beyond their borders, they need outside connections.”

“And the Martial Nation is trying to be that connection? Using me as the intermediary.”

“It’s a grand strategy, but don’t misunderstand, okay? Even if you had no ties to Tyrkanzyaka, Father, you’re still valuable in your own right!”

“Thanks. That was a strangely casual compliment.”

Either way, this meant my next investigation would involve monsters of that caliber. No one would attack me outright, since everyone knew I was Tyr’s consort… but if things went south, it could still be dangerous. I’d have to tread carefully.

“If an Elder ever tries to kill me, burn every last bit of your life away to hold them back for even a moment.”

“…You brought me as your bodyguard?!”

“Among other things.”

I made my way toward Kabilla.

She was in the midst of distributing the seafood her Draconic Servants had gathered. The humans, holding baskets, accepted their share with repeated expressions of gratitude. Kabilla responded absentmindedly, passing out fish with no real emotion.

She wasn’t doing this for a sense of fulfillment, nor to bask in a feeling of superiority. Vampires couldn’t move for such trivial emotions. No, this was simply ingrained into her being.

Despite her grumbling, Kabilla continued the work herself.

“My sister returns, and here I am doing… this. Next!”

As the next person stepped forward, I quietly moved ahead and held out a basket. For a moment, Kabilla’s face lit up—but then, just as quickly, it cooled into an impassive mask.

“Sister! …Wait. You didn’t come with her?”

“No. I’m alone this time.”

“I thought you’d brought her along. How pointless. What kind of consort scurries around instead of staying by her side? Your duty is to comfort her.”

I lowered my voice and murmured to her.

“I have something important to discuss regarding the late Ruskinia.”

“What gives you the right?”

“As Tyr’s consort.”

From the side, I heard someone mutter, “He’s starting to call himself that naturally now~.” I ignored it.

Kabilla’s frown deepened as she glanced around. The fishermen were watching us with curious eyes.

“Let’s move somewhere private.”

East of the Moonlit Castle. Kabilla’s domain—the Blood-Weaving Workshop.

On the surface, it looked like an ordinary textile workshop. The rhythmic creaking of looms filled the air, and crimson thread was meticulously woven into deep red fabric. At first glance, it seemed like a scene you could find anywhere.

…If not for the Draconic Servants operating the looms.

Skeletons turned the spinning wheels. Skeletons wound the thread. Skeletons wove the fabric. Beings that needed leather more than cloth were the ones making textiles—it was absurd to the point of grotesque.

Deeper inside, the true nature of the place revealed itself. Skins and bones lined the walls in neat rows. Quite a few were unmistakably human. Countless remains were bound in crimson thread, dangling as if ensnared in a spider’s web.

That red thread… was Blood Silk, woven from pure vitae. Kabilla’s power, and the reason she was known as the Bloodstitcher.

Kabilla controlled her Draconic Servants by wrapping Blood Silk around their bones or embedding it deep within. The massive spine she had moved earlier? That, too, was animated by threading Blood Silk through it, manipulating it like a puppet with her hemocraft.

After leading me deeper inside, Kabilla turned around and issued an order to one of her subordinates.

“Chayci. Wait outside. Let no one in.”

“Yes, Lady Kabilla.”

Chayci obeyed without the slightest hint of doubt or curiosity. Kabilla then pointed at Hilde.

“You, too. Stay out.”

“Huh? I am Father’s bodyguard, you know?”

“You think I would harm my sister’s chosen consort? The most dangerous person in this room is you. Worry about protecting yourself.”

The implication was clear—she wouldn’t harm me, but she might not extend the same courtesy to Hilde if provoked. Grumbling, Hilde stepped outside. That left only the two of us.

Kabilla placed a doll on the table, then climbed onto a chair as if perching on a throne. With a sullen expression, she asked:

“Did Sister send you?”

“No. Tyr didn’t tell me to come.”

“Chhh. So unfair. You’re the only one who gets to call her by an affectionate name…”

Muttering to herself, Kabilla twitched a thread of Blood Silk, animating a stuffed bear. The plushie sprang to its feet on the table and pointed a stubby paw at me.

“Ruskinia’s death is none of your concern! This is a matter of the Duchy! You just make sure to offer Sister your best blood. Don’t smoke magic herbs, don’t drink alcohol, and eat rich foods in moderation!”

“So considerate. How thoughtful of you.”

“What?! Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t care about you in the slightest! This is for Sister’s sake! It’s not advice—it’s a warning! You have to maintain the taste of your blood! If you let it go to waste, you’ll be discarded, and then what? Regret won’t save you then!”

She wasn’t embarrassed in the least. This was pure, unfiltered sincerity.

Kabilla wasn’t concerned about me—she was worried about Tyr’s experience consuming my blood. She was genuinely giving me advice to preserve the quality of my essence for Tyr’s enjoyment.

Of course, none of that really mattered, since Tyr had already declared that my blood was flavorless.

“Well, setting that aside—”

“Don’t just set it aside! This is important! Sister has never taken a human consort before! You need to devote yourself completely so she can enjoy you from head to toe!”

“I’ll put in the effort tonight when I visit Tyr’s room.”

“W-wait. Sister’s room…?”

I haven’t even stepped foot in there myself… What could he be doing in there? Is she planning to drink from him…?

Kabilla clutched the stuffed bear tightly, her mind spiraling into the most shameless scenario her imagination could conjure. In her head, Tyr was holding me in her arms, embracing my neck in a gesture of intimacy.

…For a vampire devoid of physical sensation, that was probably the most scandalous thought possible.

“A consort doesn’t have to offer blood. The reason I became Tyr’s consort was because I granted her wish.”

“Her wish? Someone like you?”

“Have you already forgotten what I am?”

Kabilla narrowed her eyes beyond the stuffed bear.

“The King of Humans? But you’re washed-up.”

“Ugh. That one stung.”

“You don’t even have the power of the King of Beasts. I don’t sense anything from you.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right. But Tyr is human too. I vaguely understood what she wanted… and that’s how I secured my place as her consort. Something no other Elder has accomplished.”

“Urgh… that’s not fair… it’s cheating…”

Kabilla liked Tyr. No—every Elder had no choice but to revere and worship her. A vampire could only feel anything toward another being if they were a higher-ranked vampire. That applied to Elders as well; in order to feel the pull of blood, they needed a progenitor.

But now that Tyr had lost her dominion…

“And now, I think I’ve figured out what’s been troubling Tyr.”

If things went wrong, I could be in real danger. I needed to reinforce my position. With just a touch of embellishment, I spoke.

“What if an Elder was behind Ruskinia’s death?”

Kabilla’s expression turned icy.