Chapter 2

The sun of the Vernice Empire never sets.

Among the countless phrases extolling the continent's supreme ruler, it was at once the most arrogant and the most truthful.

This did not, of course, carry the heaven-defying meaning that night never fell upon the Empire alone.

It meant that when one sun perished, another would rise to fill its place, and so the Empire would shine eternally.

And at this very moment, one of those Imperial suns was being met with a funeral procession.

"The Empire has lost one sun, but—"

The Imperial funeral hall, so oppressively still that even the sound of breathing felt like noise. Cutting through the silence that had settled over the mourners' black garments, the bishop's solemn voice rang out.

The voice paused briefly, then continued with a statement that sounded stamped from a mold.

"Another sun shall fill the vacant place, and—"

CLENCH.

As the voice carried on, Silvia Vernice's fists tightened until her knuckles went white.

It was the bishop's voice, utterly devoid of emotion, that had scraped her nerves raw. Beneath the sleeves of her neatly tailored black mourning dress, eyes that looked as though jewels had been carved into them trembled like ripples on still water.

"It shall continue to shine bright."

FWOOSH—

The instant those declaration-like words ended, a pale white flame bloomed atop the coffin placed at the very front of the hall.

The sacred fire, which had risen without sound or heat, writhed like a living creature and began to slowly devour the coffin crafted from birch wood.

Every gaze turned in unison toward the coffin engulfed in flames. That eerie fire, which emitted no warmth whatsoever, was a secret art of the Imperial household—one said to burn only the soul of the deceased and guide it to the heavens above.

CRACKLE—

Watching the white flames surge ever more fiercely, Silvia's nails dug into the tender flesh of her palms.

He was inside that coffin. But the man she knew was not there—only a body gone cold, turning to a handful of ash.

Before long, she stiffly turned her head. Where her gaze landed was the memorial portrait placed before the coffin.

[Evan Erche]

A silver-haired man staring straight ahead with an expressionless face from which no emotion could be read. Silvia traced the name inscribed beneath it again and again with her eyes.

'Evan....'

The eldest son of Ducal House Erche. Commander of the Imperial Knight Order, once called the strongest in the Empire. And... her fiancé. Among the Empire's countless suns, the man who had blazed every moment with the most beautiful light. All the titles that had adorned him now felt like nothing more than the hollow echoes the bishop had been reciting.

CRACKLE— SNAP—

She gazed blankly at the birch coffin, which had by now lost its form entirely and become part of the white blaze.

The official announcement stated that he had been dispatched to the northern continent and lost his life to a diversionary tactic by monsters.

The reason his funeral was being held in the Imperial funeral hall despite no Imperial blood flowing through his veins was the ceremonial explanation that he had been practically family to the Emperor. Everything was proceeding according to established protocol.

But—

'...Lies.'

Silvia clenched her teeth. The Evan she knew was not a man who would fall to something as paltry as a monster's stratagem.

He had left for this deployment with a casual smile, as if it were just another routine long-distance assignment.

And what had returned was an ice-cold corpse, mutilated beyond recognition.

A body hacked apart dozens, hundreds of times, as though someone were venting their rage. For the work of monsters, it was excessively cruel—and somehow unnatural.

SQUEEZE.

"Silvia."

"...Mother."

Silvia noticed the hand gently enveloping her fist, relaxed her grip, and looked to her side.

It was her mother who had taken her hand.

The moment she saw her mother's face, tears nearly sprang to Silvia's eyes, but she bit down hard on her molars and held them back.

In a gathering this crowded, an Imperial princess could not be seen shedding tears.

Forcing her gaze away, she gently removed her mother's hand and steadied her breathing. Then, with a hardened expression, she surveyed the hall.

The Emperor and the Imperial family, ministers from each department, the heads of the great noble houses that upheld the Empire. Every person of power in the Empire had gathered to mourn the death of one man.

But genuine sorrow was difficult to find among their expressions. Some watched the white flames out of obligation, some out of curiosity, and others still... with faces steeped in relief.

To carelessly show emotion in a place like this would be tantamount to baring a wound before starving wolves.

Evan wouldn't want to see her like that either.

'Evan.'

Silvia turned her head toward the white flames that had now nearly consumed the coffin whole.

Evan was no longer in this world.

The bright smile he had shown only to her.

The silver hair that would naturally blend with her own platinum-blonde locks whenever they kissed.

The voice that had spoken with such conviction—no matter what happens, I'm on your side.

She could no longer see, hear, or touch any of it.

She recalled something her lady-in-waiting had once said.

That losing someone you love is like losing a part of the world itself.

At the time, she had dismissed it as sentimental talk. But now she understood.

She was watching half of her world turn to ash and vanish before her eyes.

"Ha... shit."

With a trembling breath, a single tear finally escaped and traced a path down her cheek. Once the first tear broke free, there was no stopping the rest.

DRIP—

Rendering her steely resolve of just moments ago meaningless, tears poured endlessly from Silvia's eyes.

SQUEEZE—

This time it was Silvia who clutched her mother's hand tightly. She scrunched up that beautiful face and bit her lip, but it was no use.

A brutal sense of loss she had never experienced before. A pain far too heavy to endure alone, without Evan.

EMBRACE—

In the end, the Empress wordlessly pulled her daughter, who could no longer contain her tears, into a tight embrace. Even cradled in her mother's arms, Silvia's gaze could not tear itself from the white blaze.

As though desperately praying that he might appear once more from beyond those pure white flames.

***

It was a night when the full moon hung in the sky, yet its light could not reach the ground, veiled behind thick clouds.

A day when darkness had blanketed the world in the truest sense of the word.

SQUELCH—

"Gakh—!"

A blood-curdling sound of something soft being pierced, accompanied by a scream wracked with agony.

THUD.

A death throe—

WHOOSH—

Without a moment's hesitation, Cabin spun around and flew at full speed toward the mansion.

Cutting through the damp night air, what entered his vision were lights flickering like heat haze.

In the darkness, dozens—no, hundreds of glowing eyes were charging toward the mansion. A pack of wolves, running on pure instinct.

"Damn it."

Cabin clenched his teeth. He'd never thought the wolf bastards would actually opt for an all-out assault. The Elder's prediction—that neither side would move easily since a clash would result in devastating losses for both—had been spectacularly wrong.

"Elder!"

Sliding through a broken window into the mansion, Cabin called out urgently for the Elder. The Elder, standing at the center of the lobby, turned to face him with a calm expression, as though he had already known everything.

"Ilai's been taken out! The wolves are swarming the mansion! Those crazy bastards—!"

"Cabin. Calm yourself."

"But at this rate—!"

Cabin couldn't comprehend the Elder's impossibly composed demeanor. They needed to reinforce the barriers around the mansion immediately and rally whoever remained to prepare for battle.

"The mansion is already defenseless."

"...What?"

"Every barrier and trap belonging to the family has been deactivated."

"How is that... How could that happen?!"

Cabin couldn't believe the Elder's words. He had detected the wolves' intrusion and flown straight here. No one could have dismantled the mansion's defenses before him. If it wasn't an external breach, there was only one answer.

"There was a traitor within. It's a long story. I've already ordered the remaining members to leave this place and survive on their own."

"...!"

From the Elder's words, which showed no will to resist, Cabin sensed with certainty that something irreversible had occurred.

"Then you mean this mansion is..."

"Yes. We must abandon it."

"That can't be...!"

Cabin felt shock and fury in equal measure.

What was this place? Among the dwindling vampire clans, this was the mansion of House Mayer—the most noble bloodline, true inheritors of the progenitor's blood. To surrender their stronghold so feebly.

"I was too complacent. Cabin. Blame me. I never imagined I'd be stabbed in the back like this by those I trusted most."

"..."

Cabin was left speechless by the Elder's self-deprecating words.

The Elder's words seemed to be true.

Not a single presence could be felt within the mansion anymore.

Just as the Elder had said, everyone had already left.

"You should go as well. You're the fastest among us—you can escape easily enough."

"Then what about you, Elder...?"

"Heh heh. I can't very well do nothing either. Shouldn't I at least attempt one final gamble?"

"...Then I'll stay with you."

Cabin spoke with resolve. The Elder he knew was not a man who would simply give up everything like this.

It was a decision even he couldn't fully explain to himself. Perhaps the word "gamble" had kindled a faint glimmer of hope.

The Elder peered into Cabin's eyes for a moment, then broke into a hollow chuckle and nodded.

"Then hurry and follow me."

Once his resolve was set, the Elder's steps held no hesitation.

He descended into the mansion's underground without delay and opened the door to a stone chamber said to be accessible only to those with permission.

"Elder, why here?"

"Since ancient times, House Mayer has passed down a certain legend. A secret and great legend, unknown to the turncoats who forsook their bloodline."

The Elder stepped into the chamber with practiced ease and descended a spiral staircase into an even deeper darkness.

His pace was so swift that Cabin could barely keep up.

"A legend?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. When a crisis of extinction befalls the clan, the legend says we are given the chance to awaken the one who bestowed power upon us long ago and then entered an endless slumber."

The Elder spoke rapidly, as though reciting it to himself. Despite the critical nature of the situation, a strange smile even graced the corners of his mouth.

"The being who is both the beginning and the end of our kind. The absolute one who brings all to their knees. It is said that merely awakening that one from slumber heralds the age of destruction for the clan... but given our current circumstances, that's a bargain price to pay. Heh heh."

"Whoa—!"

Beginning and end? Destruction of the clan?

Cabin, who had been following the Elder's back as he muttered incomprehensible words, nearly collided with him when he stopped abruptly.

Stumbling to right himself, Cabin peered over the Elder's shoulder at what lay ahead.

At the bottom of the staircase sat an enormous coffin carved from stone.

"There it is."

"Elder...?"

"Heh heh. We're out of time. Judging by the graceless heartbeats I can hear, it seems the wolves are already at our doorstep."

No sooner had the Elder finished speaking than a chilling sound came from beyond his shoulder.

SQUELCH—!

"Huh...?"

"Ngh, haah... heh heh...."

"E-Elder...?"

It was the same sound he had heard when Ilai was struck down. A sound like a wolf's claws piercing through Ilai's body.

He hadn't misheard.

The wet, sickening sound of a body being punctured had come from right beside him.

"Please... accept my blood... as an offering."

CRACK—

Cabin could only stare blankly at the scene before him. Dark crimson blood surging from the Elder's chest scattered like rain across the top of the stone coffin.

"I beg you... grant us the chance for vengeance."

RUMBLE—

The Elder, collapsing to his knees, used the very last of his strength to push the coffin's lid aside.

"Our true ancestor... my Lord."

Having mustered everything he had to utter those final words, the Elder crumpled to the ground.

The sentry's body, his breath cut short with a scream, collapsed lifelessly to the floor. Watching it all from within the pitch-black darkness was a pair of blood-red eyes.

Hovering in the air, pupils churning with rage.

'Those sons of bitches have already made it this far...!'