As the sun set, the rest of the group returned to the inn. Once everyone had gathered, Tarman addressed them. “Well then, let’s exchange what we’ve learned.” Kald spoke first. “This is about Count Brellant and his household.” Count Brellant, now 46 years old, was a middle-aged noble. His wife had died giving birth to their only son, leaving the count to care for the child alone. Deeply devoted to his late wife, the count never remarried, instead pouring all of his attention into raising his son. However, the boy had been born frail and was not expected to live past twenty. “It’s said to be an incurable illness, beyond even the divine powers of the seven goddesses’ churches.” While the divine healing arts of the seven goddesses were indeed powerful, their limitations were clear. Regrowing limbs, resurrecting the dead, and curing congenital diseases were beyond their abilities. Such things, the church proclaimed, were part of the natural laws set by the goddesses. “It’s likely the boy has only survived this long thanks to the support of the church,” Kald concluded. Tarman nodded. “A perfect weakness for necromancers to exploit.” Those who feared death most were the easiest to deceive. Necromancy made it possible what the church deemed impossible. Through sacrificing others, natural order of the goddesses could be defied as well. Alice, the inquisitor, shared what she had learned next. “Apparently, the county’s security has improved drastically in recent days.” The Brellant territory had deliberately hunted down bandits, thieves, and vagrants, driving them out of the region. “On the surface, Count Brellant appears to be an exemplary lord...” At this, Kald shook his head. “But it’s suspicious.” “Exactly. On our way here, we didn’t hear a word about this,” Alice added. The group had passed through several villages between the capital and the county. Yet, there had been no mention of criminals being expelled or of large-scale purges. At first glance, it might seem plausible that the villagers hadn’t thought much of it, but the situation didn’t add up. “If criminals and vagabonds had been driven out en masse, they would have spread to neighboring villages and caused problems. How likely is it that they all stayed quiet?” Moreover, the odds that their paths simply never crossed with any of the expelled individuals were suspiciously low. So where had all those people gone? “Mass disappearances often occur when necromancers are involved,” Kald said. Tarman muttered under his breath, his expression sharpening into a cold smile. “There’s definitely something shady going on with the Count.” Then, as if revealing a trump card, he added, “I paid a visit to the count’s castle myself.” Naturally, he had said nothing about cultists or necromancers during the meeting. Nothing of significance had been exchanged in their conversation. The important part was that Tarman had not entered the manor at all. “While touring the castle, I found something interesting.” Thick, unnaturally heavy curtains had been hung across several windows. “As if someone absolutely needed to block out the sunlight, no matter what.” Both Kald and Alice’s eyes narrowed as realization dawned. It was clear they had suspicions of their own. Tarman raised a hand, cutting them off. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Let’s not speak carelessly yet. We risk falling into the trap of preconceived notions.” The investigation wasn’t over. Until concrete evidence was found, they had to keep all possibilities in mind. “Until then, we withhold judgment. Caution, too, is a duty of the King’s Order.” As learners, Karnak, Varos, and Serati quietly listened from the sidelines. But Karnak already knew the answer. [What lives in this place, young master?] For Karnak, exploration and questioning were pointless formalities. Serati, puzzled, sent him a magical whisper. [How can you even know something like that?] She understood that Karnak had once reached the pinnacle of necromancy and that he could detect even the faintest traces of darkness with ease. Yet, there was something she couldn’t quite grasp. [I can sense dark energy to a certain extent, too. I even tried scanning the village intensely, but I didn’t feel anything.] Even Alice, an inquisitor who specialized in detecting necromancy, had come up empty-handed. [Are we really that dull?] Even Karnak, for all his abilities, was still human. If the traces were faint enough, even he might miss them. [I didn’t sense the vampire’s presence directly. Their aura was perfectly concealed.] The vampire had meticulously erased all traces with powerful necromantic techniques. Even if Alius himself were here, he would find no clues. What Karnak noticed wasn’t the vampire’s presence but the methods used to conceal it. [The county is covered with spells used to block vampire detection. How could I not notice?] If necromancy was involved in any way, it was impossible to fool Karnak. Leave the traces, and he would detect them immediately. Erase the traces, and he would recognize the methods used to erase them. [What if they layered magic to block detection of the wards themselves?] Serati asked. [Wouldn’t that still be necromancy?] [Ah, so it wouldn’t matter...] Serati, pretending to remain unbothered, asked another question. [So what do we do now?] [Shouldn’t we tell them about this?] [Why would we? They’ve probably already guessed the target is a vampire.] Knowing the answer wasn’t enough. The process of proving why that answer was correct was just as important. Since Karnak took shortcuts to learn the truth, it would be prudent to learn how they had come to the same conclusion. [Let’s just quietly watch and learn. We’ll use this later when it’s our turn.] At the same time, inside Count Brellant’s castle, a boy in his mid-teens sipped from a wine glass in a dimly lit hall. The count watched him and asked, “Are you full?” The boy smiled as he lowered the glass. The crimson liquid inside shimmered faintly in the candlelight. The count’s gaze lingered on the wine glass as he hesitated before asking again. “Do you resent me for this?” The boy smiled brightly, as if the question itself were absurd. “For the first time in my life, I’ve realized what it means to live comfortably.” The excruciating headaches that tormented him day and night were gone. The weakness in his limbs that made even the simplest movements impossible had vanished. No longer did he wake in agony during the dead of night, sobbing from the pain. The boy looked down at himself as if in awe. “To think that others have lived lives without pain ...” The count pressed on carefully, “So you’re satisfied with the life of a vampire?” His son now craved the blood of others and would live forever as a creature of darkness, confined to the shadows. Did such a fate truly bring him peace? It seemed it did. “Humans must kill to eat and survive, mustn’t they? In that sense, Father, you’ve been quite merciful.” A vampire could not drink the blood of beasts or monsters. They were cursed to feed only on the blood of their own kind. Yet his son had never taken a life. The blood he drank was supplied by the cult of the Black God, from willing followers. In exchange for their blood, they received generous compensation. There was nothing for which to be condemned morally. As for the inability to see sunlight... “I couldn’t go out into the sun before anyway.” The boy had always been so frail that direct sunlight left him dizzy and sick. Now, at least, he could move freely after nightfall. “My diet has changed a little, and I need to be more cautious. But it’s still better than dying.” At last, the count smiled faintly. “I’m glad to hear that.” He had once planned to save his son and then turn himself in to the churches of the seven goddesses. But now, he had no such intentions. The situation wasn’t nearly as dire as he had expected. Of course, his son’s future would not be without challenges. Vampires were considered monstrous, vile creatures. Should the world learn of his son’s true nature, they would stop at nothing to destroy him. The concept of killing would no longer apply to him either. Vampires were undead, so they were nothing more than living corpses. For a brief moment, the count was filled with rage. The source of this content ɪs 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⟡𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦⟡𝘯𝘦𝘵 My son? A corpse? He’s standing right there, moving, talking, and smiling perfectly fine! His son hadn’t changed. He was still polite, noble in manner, and every bit the heir who reflected all of the count’s values. His character and intellect remained exactly as they had been. At last, the count understood. The teachings of the seven goddesses weren’t wrong. They reflected the laws of the world—laws that had been true until now. But the world had changed. Nothing under the heavens was eternal before the march of time. All things transformed, and the teachings of the goddesses were no exception. The cult of the Black God was not heretical. It was merely the new truth for a new age. The count whispered softly to his beloved son. “Just endure it a little longer. You won’t have to live in that body forever.” When Tesranach descended upon the world, his son would finally lead an ordinary life. The paradise would come where the dead and the living coexisted in harmony, free to choose both their life and their death. Count Brellant was prepared. He would dedicate the rest of his life to this cause. To open a world where his son could live with dignity and without fear. “The light of the waning goddesses will fade, and the world will be enveloped in darkness...” As if entranced, he recited the teachings of the Black God. “At the darkest hour, dawn will break, and a new world will rise...” The next day, Tarman’s team resumed their investigation. They moved through the town, flashing the wanted poster as they searched for the supposed fugitive while quietly observing any strange occurrences. Serati, trailing behind Alice, asked quietly, “...It’s a vampire, isn’t it?” Alice gave her a wry smile. “I haven’t said it aloud, but... it’s a little too obvious, isn’t it?” Zombies or ghouls didn’t need to live normal lives. Specters and spirits couldn’t be dealt with just by hanging curtains. Necromancers who extended their lives with life-draining spells only weakened under sunlight. They didn’t die from it. Liches or death knights? Creatures that powerful wouldn’t so much as flinch under sunlight. “If an undead creature has thick curtains covering every window, it’s almost always a vampire.” Serati nodded in understanding. “So, we’ll just keep searching for evidence?” “Yes. It’s tedious work.” Alice added that sometimes, the work ended surprisingly quickly. “Sometimes we get lucky. Well, it’s more appropriate to call it misfortune.” When probing for cultist activity , there were typically two types of responses. The first type was to remain silent and let things play out. Bounty hunters searching for fugitives were common enough that most cultists, wary of drawing attention, would hide and simply wait for the hunters to move on. Acting rashly often risked exposing them. The second type was far less patient. There were always a few hot-tempered cultists who couldn’t resist the urge to strike first. “The odds are about fifty-fifty.” That was why, starting the next day, they planned to investigate after sunset. “With luck, they’ll attack us first.” “Misfortune, indeed. Danger and opportunity arriving hand in hand.” It was as the two women were chatting and walking down the road that a young man approached from ahead. He was a member of the town patrol under Count Brellant’s authority. “Are you Miss Mela, the bounty hunter?” For reference, Mela was the alias Alice was using. “What can I do for you?” The young man pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her. “We’ve found your fugitive. I was told to pass this on to you.” Without further explanation, the young man turned and left, his demeanor indifferent, as though he were simply following orders. Serati and Alice exchanged baffled looks. “How did they find a fugitive who doesn’t even exist?” “I have no idea. This is a first for me, too.”