Morlan village, situated in the southwestern part of Cardman City, has flourished due to its proximity to commercial routes. It has become a place of choice for traders traveling from the South to the North in Transylvania.
Murphy had never been here before.
He had never even left Cardman City, but he was informed about some gossip regarding Morlan Village by the assistant driving beside him.
Such as the village being the territory of a vampire elder, and the village chief, an old Blood Servant, quietly engaging in nefarious deeds in human eyes and profiteering on behalf of the vampire elder.
There are many vampire worshippers in the village, making it a "safe zone" for the Blood Vulture Clan.
"But sir, thirty miles east from here, it becomes unsafe,"
The tall assistant was holding a horsewhip, whispering to Murphy, who was gnawing on a dry piece of bread:
"Mr. Jed told us before we left that there are several witch hunter squads operating in that area. They are the hounds of the Exploration Corps, who have destroyed several villages that worship the Blood race.
My birthplace, Rim Village, was also... well, let's not go there, it was quite tragic."
Murphy didn't respond.
As he was eating, he was also listening intently to the night around him, using his vampire Perception enhanced by the night to discern any potential dangers in the vicinity.
Even though the tag on his character card showing "0/10" summoned creatures gave him great confidence, he knew he should always remain cautious.
Seeing that Murphy wasn't responding, the assistant driving the carriage stopped talking. However, Murphy had been secretly observing him.
He was dressed peculiarly.
Like a vampire out in the sun, he'd fully covered himself–just short of wrapping himself like a mummy–only exposing his eyes.
However, Murphy was sure that this behavior wasn't solely due to Blood Servants' imitation and worship of their vampire masters.
Because even this guy's eyelashes were white.
By human standards, this was clearly abnormal.
"You know, the 'help' that Mr. Jed has sent this way, you understand what it means, right?"
Having finished the bread, Murphy shook the crumbs off his hand, softly asking:
"Are you prepared for it? Buddy."
At Murphy's words, the young assistant clenched his fists. After hesitating for several seconds, he nodded:
"Yeah, Mr. Jed didn't hide the dangers of this journey. And those of us, those 9 selected, were not chosen randomly. Maybe..."
He paused, seemingly summoning a great deal of resolve before finishing his sentence:
"Perhaps this is merely a 'cleanup'... Ah, sir, I don't mean that you are a waste. I only... well, you've seen it yourself, we nine are all considered the old, weak, sick, and disabled amongst the Blood Servants."
"There's no need to explain all of this. Even if you were indirectly insulting me, I wouldn't mind."
Murphy was open-minded.
Over the past month in Cardman City, he had heard much crueler words. Now his spirit had coarsened to the point of almost seeming numb.
He merely gestured dismissively, curiously asking the assistant:
"I don't care if the eight people in the carriage die along the journey; they're already dead, it's just that their weak hearts don't know it yet. But you're different!
Your life force is very healthy and strong.
Even stronger than ordinary people, which makes you an ideal candidate to become a Blood Servant warrior.
Don't doubt my judgment!
I am a vampire, discerning life is my instinct."
In the face of Murphy's inquiry, the assistant hesitated for a moment. Finally, under Murphy's curious gaze, he removed his hood and mask, revealing a face with skin even whiter than that of a vampire.
And all-white eyebrows, beard, and short hair, even the skin on his neck was so thin that his cyan-colored veins underneath were clearly visible.
Albinism?
Murphy blinked a few times.
In Transylvania, a region under vampire rule that is incredibly insular and steeped in superstition, such a condition would certainly mark him as an outcast or some kind of ominous sign.
No wonder he always keeps his face covered.
"I'm also defective; they all call me a 'monster'."
The assistant said bitterly:
"I was abandoned by my parents when I was a child. It was Mr. Jed who adopted me. Now, the master needs me to make sacrifices for the clan, and I have no objections."
"But you're still somewhat unwilling, right?"
Murphy chuckled, shaking his head and asking:
"What's your name?"
"Maxim! Sir, my name is Maxim Sena Vlad."
He answered immediately:
"Please don't worry, I will escort you to the mission location, even if it costs me my life!"
"Is a master who sends you to your death while not even bothering to hide this fact, really worth your loyalty?"
Murphy wondered inwardly.
Looking at his fanatical face, it was obvious that Maxim was a "Senior Fine Blood," a true vampire admirer, one of Transylvania's "specialties."
There were plenty of these people among the Blood Servants. Some were influenced by magic, some craved power.
Others, like Maxim, were subjected to distorted education from a young age.
But Murphy didn't have the mood to bring him back to the right track, mainly because a vampire lecturing a Fanatical Blood Servant about not blindly worshipping vampires sounded like a joke.
Murphy thought for a moment, picked up the set of armor and weapons provided by Mr. Jed from the side, and tossed them to Maxim, saying:
"Put it on. Among the nine of you, you're the only one who has received warrior training. If danger really arises, we'll need you."