The tent's curtain was pulled aside, and a young man walked in. He looked around at everyone inside with bright eyes, nodding in satisfaction. "It's still more comfortable in the shade, and there's so much good food."
"Who let you in? Get out!" a nobleman shouted when he saw the young man's commoner clothes. "Where are the guards outside?"
The young man showed no intention of leaving; he even smiled and said, "I'm hungry, so I came in to eat something." His delicate features made it hard to distinguish between male and female, and this smile made him look even more beautiful, almost a little wicked. Everyone seemed momentarily stunned by his strange charm, even the nobleman who had shouted at him.
The King was still feeling a bit sad for not understanding the joke earlier, but upon seeing the young man's commoner attire, he quickly waved his hand, saying, "Don't chase him away; quickly bring some food for this hungry citizen."
The young man nodded, flashing another enchanting smile at the King, saying, "Thank you, but it's no trouble; I can help myself." His smile made men feel he was beautiful and charming, while women found him graceful and lovely. He cast a gleaming gaze around, then sat down directly between the prime minister and his niece, Anastasia.
Ignoring the imperial prime minister beside him, the young man simply gazed at his niece with a smile, saying, "Miss, you're truly beautiful." Miss Ernie felt a little shy looking at the incredibly handsome young man, especially his pair of pitch-black eyes, which seemed to exude a mysterious charm that could capture the soul, like an endless dark sea. She felt her consciousness slowly sinking into those depths.
This very hungry young man showed no interest in the exquisite delicacies on the table. Instead, he reached out and wrapped his arm around the young lady's waist, bringing his mouth close to her neck. This elegant movement looked like an affectionate gesture between a pair of deeply in-love lovers. Unconsciously, a intoxicating atmosphere filled the tent, as if everyone was drawn into this splendid scene, with no one daring to interrupt.
The noble lady seemed to be immersed in this tender embrace; her expression displayed complete intoxication and sweetness. However, the enchanting flush on her face quickly faded, replaced by an almost translucent pallor. Blood trickled from the young man's mouth, running down the pale chest of the noble lady.
The young man released his hold, lifted his head, and closed his eyes, emitting a trembling groan from his blood-stained mouth: "How many years has it been? I'm truly afraid I've forgotten this feeling. The blood of a virgin… is more beautiful than anything in the world." His expression mixed satisfaction with sorrow and loneliness, while the noble lady slowly collapsed, her dead-white face still displaying a look of romantic ecstasy, as if she had died enjoying love to its fullest. However, her bloodless skin appeared somewhat withered, making her look eerily aged.
The scene seemed like a tragic suicide of lovers, yet the tent was filled with hysterical screams. The prime minister jumped up, shouting, "Guards! Guards!"
The young man shot an eye at the fat nobleman, seemingly displeased with his disruption of the atmosphere, then turned and shouted, "Guards!"
Instead of the outside guards, two skeletal warriors entered the tent. The skeletal warriors were covered in bloodstains on their weapons and tattered armor. One of the skeletons held half a human head in its bony hand, which was one of the guards originally stationed outside. Along with the heavy curtain being lifted came a strange noise from outside, accompanied by the sound of bones being crushed.
"There are only my guards here, so please do not shout randomly. The craftsmanship of these skeletal zombies is quite good. They should be refined products from the early days of the Necromancer Guild," the young man said with a charming smile. He licked the blood from his lips with his crimson tongue, revealing his sharp fangs. He stood up, bowed elegantly to the frightened crowd. "Allow me to formally introduce myself; I am a proud descendant of the glorious Dracula vampire family, Viscount Degal."
The tent erupted in chaos; envoys from various countries and several noble ministers all stood up and ran outside. Only the prime minister and a few ministers remembered to gather around the already paralyzed King.
The self-proclaimed Degal waved his hand in the air. Under his graceful posture, several magical symbols appeared in the air and then instantly vanished. He softly commanded, "Sit down." Everyone who was standing or fleeing immediately fell to the ground.
Slowness spell was not a particularly advanced magic, but to use it in such a large area and so effortlessly immobilize a large group of people showed a level of magical skill that was rare even among magic academies.
"Everyone, don't panic. You see, I used such a large area slowness spell, and I'm hungry again…" The vampire slowly walked over to a countess lying paralyzed on the ground and bit into her neck. As the sucking sounds filled the tent, many people were already crying in terror.
"Don't cry; I hate such unpleasant noises." Degal lifted his head after drinking and spoke in an elegant, soft tone, as if admonishing commoners like a cultured gentleman. He snapped his fingers, and a massive three-headed dog ran into the tent.
The two mouths of the three-headed dog were still chewing on human limbs. The vampire pointed, and the three-headed dog immediately grabbed a minister who was crying the loudest and pulled him outside, followed by a series of screams that barely resembled those of a human. The sound made many people wet themselves in fear, and more began to scream as they vomited.
"If anyone makes that disgusting noise again, I'll have to send them to the dog's belly to be quiet," the vampire's voice, though not loud amid the clamor and cries, brought immediate silence to the tent.
Two skeletons stood guard at the entrance, while two pale corpses lay on the ground, drained of blood. A handsome, wicked young man stood in the center, mouth stained with blood, gazing at the trembling, terrified crowd with the eyes of a predator watching its prey. The scene was eerily quiet, the air thick with the terror seeping into every pore of the crowd, making even the sunlight streaming through the windows appear strange. This group of nobles and royals, once the epitome of dignity, now shivered like rabbits in front of a beast, their faces twisted in fear, tears and snot streaming down in a messy tableau. Many were already vomiting, desperately pressing their mouths to the ground in an effort to suppress any sound.
"Get away, you evil creature." Finally, a brave minister pulled out a crucifix from his bosom and, with all his might, hurled it at Degal.
However, the vampire nonchalantly extended his hand and caught the crucifix in his pale, slender fingers. He gently kissed the golden figure sculpted on it with his bloodied mouth, leaving two bloody imprints on the head of the golden statue, and softly remarked, "Oh great Father in Heaven, doesn't it sadden you that such foolish things worship You?"
Degal knelt down, placing the crucifix on the chest of the brave thrower, softly asking, "Do you think this golden and jewel-encrusted thing can protect you?"
The minister trembled, having exerted all his strength and courage. Watching the vampire walk calmly before him, his bloodied mouth hovering above him, he found himself devoid of the strength to control his bodily functions or even speak. Extreme fear ravaged his mind, quickly pushing him beyond his limits; his facial muscles trembled and twisted, finally contorting into a grotesque smile, the sound of which was more horrifying than a scream.
Degal shook his head, looking at this now crazed man with disgust, as if bored. He didn't bite him; the ugly madman clearly made him lose his appetite. Instead, he raised the crucifix and plunged it downward. The minister emitted a mixed scream of pain and despair as blood gushed from his abdomen, the entire crucifix, along with Degal's hand, fully penetrating his body.
Degal didn't stop there; like a child playing with a toy, he used the crucifix to probe inside the minister's belly, stirring and gouging around, occasionally jabbing it forcefully, producing colorful bits and pieces.
The minister kept screaming; it wasn't an immediately fatal wound, and his limbs could only move helplessly, as if he were a frog being dissected, unable to struggle.
The stench in the tent intensified, and the noblemen, unable to contain their fear, emitted whimpering sounds reminiscent of dying dogs.
Finally satisfied with his play, Degal withdrew the bloodied crucifix, placing it on the minister's forehead and continued in that gentle tone, "Now, pray to Him."
The crucifix pressed into the minister's scalp under the vampire's grip. His screams grew increasingly wretched until, with a final sharp "crack," they completely ceased.
Degal stood up, raising the blood-and-something-else-stained crucifix like a believer showcasing a holy relic, and commanded, "Everyone, look here."
Almost everyone had to raise their heads, utterly drained of will and thought by sheer terror and despair.
The vampire gazed contentedly at the trembling, whimpering crowd, who looked at him in utter hopelessness, seeing not just food but toys—bugs to be tormented and killed at his leisure.
"You see, it won't come to save you." The monster's voice sounded like a hymn, and his beautiful, enchanting face bore an expression of solemnity, as if his words carried the resonance of a gospel: "Here, besides me, there shall be no other gods."
"Um... you might wonder why I appeared in this place and came to eat you," the vampire glanced around, fully enjoying the feeling of being a ruler. "Actually, I'm not quite sure myself. I don't know who saved me from the dust and brought me back to life, nor who prepared this lavish feast for me along with those suitable subordinates. From your attire, it seems you should all be nobles from some kingdom, right? I must thank that friend who arranged such good hospitality for me. In order not to disappoint his careful arrangements, I plan to select a few of you to become my subordinates. This must also be the goodwill of that meticulous friend; he surely knows our selections are very particular. You must understand, vampires are incredibly elegant and beautiful. If one's bloodline is not noble enough and one's status is not high enough, they do not qualify to join this profession."
Degal surveyed the surroundings, finally fixing his gaze on King Greffinhart XVII. "By the way, the first one shall be this kind-hearted king. Although you aren't considered handsome according to my aesthetic standards, I can still reward you for your noble bloodline and your courtesy just now."
Degal slowly walked towards King Greffinhart XVII, whose face had turned pale, unsure whether he still remembered his status as a king. Despite his extreme fear, he surprisingly did not appear particularly disheveled; at least, he hadn't wet himself yet.
Suddenly, someone beside the king jumped up and swung a large platter from the table directly at Degal. Caught completely off guard, Degal was struck squarely, his body swaying unsteadily.
As the vampire steadied himself, he found that a small dent had formed where the platter had hit. The platter was large and heavy, meant for serving roasted meat, and had been thrown with all the strength of the person's fear.
Everyone in the tent turned their gaze toward this audacious attacker, who looked terrified yet could not hide her fresh, natural beauty. It was none other than Christine, who had been sitting beside the king.
Having once been kidnapped, she was somewhat familiar with bloody scenes and was not completely intimidated. For some reason, it seemed she had not been affected by the vampire's slowness spell; though her face had lost all color and her body trembled, she still gathered her courage and took a sword from somewhere, standing protectively in front of the king.
Degal lightly brushed his hand over his head, and the dent disappeared instantly. He looked at Christine, his eyes filled not with anger but with surprise and admiration. "I haven't seen such a beautiful lady in a long time. How is it that you can break free from my slowness spell..." His beautiful eyes gleamed with a nightmarish charm, enveloping Christine in their gaze. "You are truly stunning. It's decided; I will make you my woman."
Christine met his compelling gaze and momentarily fell into a daze, but quickly regained her senses, her expression shifting to fear as she stepped back.
The vampire's form flickered, appearing directly in front of Christine, seizing her hands and enveloping her in a graceful embrace. She had no time to resist before becoming completely immobilized.
"However, your attack was truly unskillful. Who do you think you can knock down with such a thing? Your timing was also all wrong; you should have waited until I was about to bite that young king when he was completely unguarded... Never mind; we will have plenty of time in the future, hundreds and even thousands of years of intimacy... I will teach you slowly..."
Christine found herself entranced by his alluring eyes, and soon her expression mirrored that of the noble lady moments ago, revealing a dazed look of intoxication. The handsome, charming vampire held her gently, leaning down as if to kiss a lover, pressing his lips against her delicate white neck. Her tender skin began to indent under his sharp fangs.
At that moment, another person suddenly jumped up beside the vampire, thrusting a short sword directly into his head.
This person had been lying on the ground, face down, appearing to be as completely conquered by the monster's imposing presence as everyone else, like a lamb awaiting slaughter. But suddenly, he sprang up and struck decisively.
A leopard reveals its form and teeth only at the perfect moment. In an attack, the key is not strength but timing, and the ruthlessness to ensure a fatal strike.
This person had seized the timing perfectly, and his hand was certainly unyielding.
The short sword pierced deep into Degal's head and emerged from the other side. Yet he did not stop; instead, he continued to forcefully push the sword deeper, as if trying to shove the hilt inside his skull.
Under this fierce thrust, Degal was sent flying, crashing into the thick tent.
This person did not relent; letting go of the sword hilt, he turned and kicked the leg off a low table, grabbing the sharp end and sprinting towards Degal. With a "thud," the table leg pierced through the vampire's chest, emerging from his back and hanging him against the tent.
The trembling individuals on the ground had yet to process the situation when this person had already completed a rapid, thunderous assault. The once arrogant demon, who had acted like the master of the world, now hung on the tent wall like a specimen.
Having completed this remarkable attack, the savior gasped for air and bent down to lift Christine. She snapped out of her stupor and immediately buried her face in his embrace, crying, "Sister."
Elaine comforted Christine, "It's okay, it's okay. The monster is dead." Her face flushed and then paled again, showing signs of exhaustion after the intense tension.
It was her that had secretly cast a dispel spell on Christine, enabling her to stand up and draw the vampire's attention. Of course, this 'secretly' included Christine herself; she didn't understand why she could suddenly move.
It was an extremely dangerous gamble. Christine might have been too terrified to stand up, or she might have realized it was her that dispelled the spell and left some trace. The vampire could just as easily crush Christine like an ant with a wave of his hand, and he might have heightened his alertness, seeking out the one who dispelled his spell, turning them both into corpses in an instant.
But they had no choice but to gamble. No one else in the tent had any combat strength; the only hope and opportunity lay in their own hands, to create and seize it.
Even a small group of priests and mages specialized in dealing with ordinary undead monsters would never stand a chance against a vampire who could appear in broad daylight. They had to bet that the monster, so pleased with himself, believed he had already mastered everything here, would let his guard down, that he would express interest in Christine's beauty, come closer, and expose a flaw.
She knew in her heart that the chance of creating an opportunity were only one in ten. But without taking that risk, there would be no chance at all.
Gambling the possibility of her sister and herself being tortured and killed by the monster for a mere one in ten, she was tense to the limit. She was relying solely on her will and determination to hold on, and finally burst forth with all her strength and fear at the most critical moment.
Finally, she succeeded in her gamble; she had finally created an opportunity. Despite the extreme fatigue, she felt like cheering for her own luck.
A round of applause erupted. Strong applause, indicating that the clapper was highly impressed and appreciative of the attack.
Elaine looked up to see who was admiring her actions. After all, it was no easy feat to have the mood to applaud at this moment. But she quickly realized that no one was clapping. Everyone was still lying on the ground under the influence of the spell, and two skeletons remained silently at the tent entrance.
The one applauding was the vampire, who had been pierced and was now hanging from the tent. He nodded repeatedly, the hilt of the short sword still embedded in his forehead, resembling a ridiculous headpiece bobbing along with his head. The vampire's face wore that enchanting smile, his voice filled with admiration: "Well done. Very impressive..."
Elaine turned around, surprise and shock flitting across her face for just an instant. The next moment, she immediately spread her hands, closed her eyes, and chanted an incantation. A surge of intense flames erupted from beneath Degal's feet, and the golden-yellow flames swiftly engulfed his form.
The intermediate spell "Wall of Fire" was the most powerful offensive magic she could wield. Moreover, after consuming the leaves of the World Tree, her magical power had advanced tremendously; she was confident that no one could emerge unscathed from this spell.
Unfortunately, this burning figure could not be considered 'human.' Amidst the flames, the figure raised a hand and made a simple gesture, causing the fire to dissipate instantaneously, even more abruptly than it had appeared, leaving only white mist around and a large hole in the tent.
Elaine's face turned even paler. The flames had been countered with an equally powerful water spell, but the casualness of the gesture and the perfectly controlled intensity of the magic made the difference in their abilities glaringly evident. The levels of magic skill were at least two tiers apart.
Degal approached slowly, completely bare, continuing to applaud as if he could not express his genuine admiration any other way. "If it were a lower-level vampire, this would have already killed them twice. I never expected that a beautiful noble lady could use a spell like 'Wall of Fire' and also secretly dispel slowness. Such magical prowess is rare. Not only that, but your ability to endure until that moment to strike, and when you did, how thoroughly ruthless you were—though I've become numb from not having fought in a long time, to be able to strike me is truly impressive. A woman so capable and beautiful… Alas, what a pity. If it were in another situation, if I had discovered you a bit sooner, I would have pursued you, shared half my magical power with you, and made you my bride."
With a deeply sorrowful sigh, Degal revealed a heartbroken expression, like a passionate youth seeing a beautiful woman about to perish. "The 'Vampire's Kiss' I had meticulously prepared was also interrupted by you. I truly have no confidence in using charm to control such a powerful woman as you..." He sorrowfully displayed his fangs. "So now I can only ask: may I eat you?"