It wasn’t even as if Vasha had intentionally unleashed her full magical power. It was merely residual energy that had leaked out as she tried to steady herself. Yet, that alone was enough to completely subdue Bernardo.
But Bernardo wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by Vasha’s oppressive aura.
Even Melina, a mere maid, and Oliver, who was well-accustomed to killing, were struck with a suffocating sense of death—so thick it made them want to flee.
Still, it felt as though some invisible force was binding their bodies in place. No one could move an inch.
Vasha slowly turned her gaze to the people around her. Even back when her power was sealed, she had been able to sense the vast difference between herself and humans. Now that her strength had returned, that gap felt utterly insignificant.
As her power grew, others felt more and more like insignificant creatures in comparison…
‘Get a hold of yourself.’
Vasha quickly seized the reins of her reason. She had nearly been drunk on the power she had regained so easily.
Perhaps, along with that restored power, a fragment of her former mindset—before she had lost her memories and strength—had surfaced.
‘So I really was one of the high-ranking ones in the past, huh…’
She used to despise how the high-ranking vampires acted so arrogantly, looking down on those around them. After losing her memories and being hunted by those very elites, their attitude had repulsed her.
And now, realizing she was no different from them left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Vasha took a moment to calm herself. Despite nothing being truly resolved yet, she was already starting to get cocky.
‘No matter how strong I’ve become, the ones I’m up against are Menorah’s legion… They’re not going to be easy.’
She had no idea how many powerful vampires were in their ranks, so she needed to be thoroughly prepared.
And just then, something—or rather, someone—who might prove useful was kneeling right in front of her.
Vasha looked down at the cocky holy knight who was barely able to lift his eyes, and gave him a small, sly smile.
Vasha’s crimson lips curved into a smooth, elegant smile. But to Bernardo, that smile couldn’t have felt more ominous.
He tried desperately to get back on his feet, but the overwhelming force pressing down on him made resistance impossible.
All he could do was helplessly watch Vasha as she approached.
Chapter 8. Luck Is as Fragile as Glass
It didn’t take long for the auction house to turn into a scene of chaos after the appearance of the vampire.
The vampires who had gorged themselves on the blood of the humans trapped within quickly exited the building.
Left behind in the cold, silent aftermath of death was only Strigon, standing alone in the now eerie auction house.
“Hm, hmmm, hm…”
He hummed a tune, using the distant sounds of screams as his own twisted accompaniment.
Strigon strolled gracefully across the moonlit platform, as if admiring a sweet symphony, his movements utterly disconnected from the surrounding carnage.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
Lucy approached him, having finished her own business.
Her face was stunningly beautiful, yet completely devoid of expression, making her appear like a moving doll—or a living sculpture.
Strigon beamed as he reached out toward her.
“You, on the other hand—did you get what you wanted? Satisfied now?”
He brushed a finger along her cheek, wiping away a splash of blood. Bright red streaks stained his pale fingertips.
“For someone who always pretended to have no interest in these matters, you were the first to jump in today, saying you wanted to grab attention…”
Strigon slowly licked the blood from his hand, flashing a sly grin.
“Who would’ve thought it was just for a painting. Honestly, I thought you were acting on my behalf.”
“As if.”
Lucy answered curtly, her voice laced with irritation. Watching him lick blood made her skin crawl.
Strigon laughed at her response.
“Still so squeamish. But that’s something I like about you too…”
Then his sly, red eyes narrowed with mischief. His gaze was fixed on Lucy, unrelenting, as if he refused to miss even the slightest reaction from her.
Lucy silently withstood the weight of his stare. She could talk back, sure—but only within limits.
As long as it didn’t provoke him.
As long as it didn’t count as refusing him.
“So, tell me… I didn’t know you were into art. Since when?”
Strigon’s soft, silky tone feigned gentleness, but the subtle pressure in his voice demanded an answer.
Even if Lucy wanted to dodge the question, Strigon made it clear he wouldn’t allow it. His persistence left no doubt—he intended to dig up an answer from her no matter what.
But Lucy had expected this from him. Calmly, she gave the answer she had already prepared.
“…They say it’s revered in Lamphas. Those snobbish people who think they’re better than everyone else— I was just curious about what kind of painting they hold in such high regard. If you don’t like it, I’ll leave it behind.”
Strigon, apparently satisfied with Lucy’s obedient response, finally withdrew his piercing gaze.
“Of course not. If it’s something our dear Lucy wants, then she should have it.”
He gently patted her on the shoulder.
Lucy let out a soft sigh of relief—quietly, so he wouldn’t notice.
After all, Strigon didn’t truly care about her reasons for wanting the painting.
What he really couldn’t stand was Lucy doing something outside of his control. He always had to test her like this, to make sure she wasn’t thinking independently or keeping things from him.
Thankfully, her answer—saying she’d abandon the painting if he wished—seemed to satisfy his need for dominance.
Had she misstepped even slightly, he likely would’ve interrogated her about how she learned that the Lamphas Crunch worshipped Laurus, when she found out, who told her, and why she hadn’t told him sooner.
“Well, anyway. Good. Now then… did you get the item I asked for?”
“It was pretty big. But I used the shadows to sneak it out.”
“Excellent.”
Strigon clapped his hands in delight, his innocent smile radiant enough to enchant anyone. To those unaware of the filth that lay beneath, his grin would seem like pure charm.
He beamed and said cheerfully.
“When I offer these remains of Van Drake, surely Mother will praise me too, won’t she?”
There was a strange excitement in his voice, and his expression turned oddly shy. Maybe it was just the lighting, but his pale cheeks seemed flushed.
“…Who knows. I’ve never met your mother, so I couldn’t say.”
“She will. She definitely will praise me.”
Strigon nodded to himself, satisfied.
‘If he was just going to convince himself, then why bother asking me in the first place?’
Lucy grumbled internally but chose not to voice her thoughts. Instead, she changed the subject.
“Was it really necessary to go to such lengths just to get a set of bones?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Strigon laughed heartily, a laugh filled with mockery toward humanity.
“Can you imagine how arrogant the Lamphas Church must be after driving out Van Drake? They really think they can handle the Night Bloods with nothing but some holy power… It’s laughable. Since they took down Van Drake with their own hands, we’ll just have to show them the consequences.”
So, naturally, they put Van Drake’s corpse to use in every way possible. Without truly grasping what chaos this corpse might bring about.
Where there are vampires, there is Van Drake. And where there is no Van Drake, vampires will fill that void.
Now that Van Drake was gone, it was only inevitable that his place would be claimed by the vampires.
‘How pathetic, that they’ve forgotten such a simple truth…’
To a vampire, a century passes in the blink of an eye—but for mortals, it’s enough time for generations to turn over.
The high-ranking vampires had merely hidden themselves for a hundred years, and yet the foolish humans had already begun to forget their fear of predators.
They convinced themselves that the tales of vampire atrocities were just political exaggerations, propaganda from the ruling elite.
Even now, within the Church of Lamphas, some factions—after capturing a few lower vampires—had begun to feel overconfident. Their egos swelled to the point that they believed they had achieved complete superiority over the vampires.
And this… this was the result.
They had wiped out Van Drake, the one who had long opposed and guarded against the vampires, and replaced them with nothing but a mere ‘Star of Lamphas.’
Then, in that vulnerable state, they went ahead and packed a small, defenseless space full of humans…
