Chapter 5: Reporting the Vampires
Presiding over today’s sermon was the Metropolitan Bishop of the Hagia Sophia district, Pasidos Kadric. A vigorous man in his fifties, he possessed a broad forehead, a flowing white beard, and piercing eyes that now fixed upon Asker. He wore exquisitely crafted Orthodox vestments, a silver crucifix clutched in his hand. The word “confession” had piqued his interest.
“Speak, child. What is it you wish to confess?” Pasidos boomed, his voice commanding attention.
“I accuse my housemates, including the mistress of my household, my butler, my valet, my head maid, and twenty-one other servants—a total of twenty-four individuals—of being vile vampires,” Asker declared, his voice unwavering. “They murdered my parents and kept me in the dark. Now that I’ve uncovered their true nature, I’ve come to report them.”
“Vampires?” Bishop Pasidos frowned. In the Eastern Solomon Empire, vampires weren’t inherently hunted by law, provided they registered with the Church and resided in designated areas. However, if Asker’s accusations were true, these were undoubtedly unregistered, “unclean” vampires, posing a threat that demanded swift and decisive action.
Asker stood motionless, suddenly aware of a faint glow enveloping him. It seemed to penetrate every fiber of his being, a subtle but unmistakable sensation of scrutiny. This bishop was no ordinary man. He possessed an aura of power, a mastery over the unseen forces of the world. Only someone of at least level 7, someone who had grasped the power of Laws, could wield ethereal energy with such finesse.
Considering the Magic Tide had just begun its ascent in the Sixth Era, this bishop was likely a relic of the Fifth Era, at least two hundred years old.
“Very well.” Having confirmed Asker’s humanity, Pasidos nodded curtly. “I will dispatch a squad of Ironclad Paladins under my direct command. You will lead them to your residence and oversee the cleansing. May God be with you, child.”
“And with you,” Asker replied solemnly.
As he strode out of the cathedral, a group of knights emerged from a side entrance. Clad in gleaming white powered armor adorned with intricate runes and sigils, they carried high-frequency vibration swords and engine-boosted war hammers.
“I am Elvin Guilin.” The captain, wielding a massive war hammer in each hand, addressed Asker with an air of haughty authority. “You are the citizen who reported vampires in their home?”
“I am,” Asker confirmed.
“Good.” The captain’s tone remained skeptical. “We are not as forgiving as the bishop. If this is some mercenary game, a fabrication to…”
“There’s no need for threats,” Asker interrupted calmly. “Once we reach my residence, the truth will be evident.”
“Let us hope so.” The captain nodded curtly. “I doubt the crowd near the cathedral is free from your housemates’ surveillance. Let us depart swiftly.”
The sight of the knights, their powered armor radiating an aura of indomitable might, drew immediate attention. The citizens, accustomed to the occasional supernatural disturbance, readily complied with the authorities’ instructions, dropping to their knees, heads bowed.
Asker led the knights at a brisk pace, his mind racing. He understood the captain’s concerns. Vampires were notoriously cunning and resourceful. It wouldn’t be surprising if they had eyes and ears everywhere.
They reached Asker’s family mansion. “It’s here,” he announced, pointing towards the imposing structure.
Meanwhile, in the hotel room, Peggy stood before the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection.
Her beauty remained, but her skin had taken on an unnatural pallor. Her lips, once a vibrant red, were now pale and bloodless, as if drained of life itself.
She knew the cause: blood deprivation. The knowledge she had gleaned from her newfound nature told her that a Flesh I vampire required at least two milliliters of blood daily to maintain their youthful appearance. Otherwise, their bodies would deteriorate, their features becoming gaunt and corpse-like.
Of course, abstaining from blood only affected their appearance, not their powers.
She retrieved a razor blade from the cabinet. After a moment of hesitation, she sliced her wrist.
Blood welled up, staining her already pale skin. But within moments, the wound began to knit itself closed, the flesh regenerating at an alarming rate.
I’m… not human anymore.
She stumbled towards the window, her legs feeling weak. In the distance, she could see the charred ruins of her former home. Her parents were gone.
If they could see her now, their precious daughter transformed into a monster, what would they think?
Suddenly, she noticed a group of Church knights approaching from the opposite street. They stopped in front of the house next to her ruined home.
Asker? He had reported the vampires? It dawned on her then. It was so simple, yet she hadn’t even considered it. Consumed by her own fear of the Church, she had overlooked the obvious solution. Even if she couldn’t expose them herself, she could have anonymously alerted the authorities, leveraging their power to eliminate the vampires.
She held her breath, watching as the knights fanned out, ordering the gathering crowd to disperse. The citizens, accustomed to such events, readily complied.
The knights unfurled scrolls, bathing the area in a brilliant light—Identification Auras.
As the crowd scattered, a figure among them began to glow with an unnatural red light. Peggy’s eyes widened. It was the butler!
Before he could react, a knight lunged, his high-frequency vibration sword cleaving through the butler’s torso as if it were butter. The severed halves of his body twitched and spasmed, attempting to knit themselves back together, but the damage was too severe.
Asker stared at the butler’s remains. A faint, reddish glow emanated from the corpse, coalescing into a single, viscous droplet. It was the residual essence of the butler’s Flesh I trait, now ownerless. Asker knew that with a single touch, he could absorb this power. With the right ingredients and a bit of alchemy, he could even create a Flesh I elixir, transforming someone into a level 1 vampire.
But he had no intention of doing so.
One of the knights produced a copper box from his pack, revealing a pair of gleaming tweezers. With utmost care, he picked up the droplet and deposited it within the box. As the lid slammed shut, runes etched into the copper surface flared to life, activating a containment seal.
The knight turned to Asker, a hint of respect in his eyes. “The energy released upon a vampire’s death is highly volatile. If not handled properly, it could have devastating consequences for this entire district.”
“I understand,” Asker replied, nodding solemnly.
Two knights charged towards the mansion’s entrance, their engine-boosted war hammers raised high. With a deafening roar, the hammers slammed into the door, splintering wood and sending shards flying. The knights swarmed inside, the air filled with the sounds of chaos, screams, and the sickening thud of metal meeting flesh.
Less than five minutes later, the captain emerged, his armor still gleaming despite being splattered with blood, bone fragments, and what looked suspiciously like intestines. He tapped a rune on his shoulder, activating a cleansing spell that purged his armor of the gore.
“The cleansing is complete,” he announced, descending the steps towards Asker. “Twenty-three vampires in total, including the one outside. However, your housemate was not among them. She appears to have escaped. I advise you to seek sanctuary within the Church tonight. A woman scorned is a dangerous thing. Just this morning, I forgot to take out the trash, and my wife refused to cook me dinner.”
“I appreciate the offer, Captain,” Asker replied with a slight bow. “But I believe my housemate is far too cunning to launch a reckless attack. Unless I plan to remain within the Church indefinitely, she might as well wait for a more opportune moment. Besides, I doubt the Church’s protection comes cheap.”
“As a reward for your cooperation,” the captain said after a moment of silence, “the first week of sanctuary is free of charge. After that, it’s one pound per day.”
“I’ll pass.” Asker chuckled. “I’m sure your knights will be keeping a close eye on this district regardless. Who knows, she might even reveal herself sooner than expected, hoping to lure me out.”
“Indeed.” The captain nodded in agreement. “In that case, Master Achilles, you are not to leave this district for the remainder of the month unless the target reveals herself.”
“Understood,” Asker replied.
Peggy watched from the window, her heart pounding. Half an hour later, Asker returned to the hotel room.
“The vampires are dead. All except the one responsible for your parents’ deaths,” he announced.
“That’s not true revenge,” Peggy said pointedly, reminding him of their agreement.
“I know where she is,” Asker said confidently. “Let’s go.”
“The Church knights are watching this district, aren’t they?” Peggy asked warily. “Won’t they notice us if we leave together?”
“Identification Aura scrolls are expensive. The knights won’t waste them on every passerby,” Asker explained. “Just lose the mask. We don’t want to attract unnecessary attention. In five days, once your mail is ready, we hunt.”
“Good,” Peggy replied, her voice as sharp and cold as ice.
“Now, let’s train,” Asker declared.
In the hotel’s basement, two floors below ground level, lay a spacious training area open to the public. It boasted steel dummies for melee practice, moving targets for marksmanship training, and meditation chambers for spellcasters. The presence of such a facility within a hotel might seem unusual, but it reflected a particular aspect of life in the Eastern Solomon Empire.
Since the early Sixth Era, the Empire had experienced rapid commercial and industrial growth, but this prosperity came at a cost: a decline in the quality of its military recruits. Complacency was human nature, and the dwindling number of supernatural creatures within the Empire’s borders only exacerbated the issue.
In an attempt to address this problem, the Empire had established vast “Supernatural Creature Sanctuaries” in the Bithynian wilderness of Anatolia, hoping to cultivate and harvest supernatural power. However, their efforts had yielded limited results. Supernatural creatures, by their very nature, required vast territories to thrive. Low-level goblins could sustain themselves on a single hill, but powerful cyclopes needed sprawling plains and a complex ecosystem to survive.
This, however, clashed with the Empire’s ever-expanding civilization. Agriculture demanded fertile land, industry craved mineral resources, and transportation networks required extensive road systems. As human society advanced, it inevitably encroached upon the habitats of supernatural creatures. Since only these creatures could draw power from the Magic Tide, their decline directly impacted the Empire’s military strength.
The world was trapped in a vicious cycle. The more powerful a civilization became, the fewer supernatural creatures remained within its borders, leading to a decline in accessible supernatural power. Eventually, these weakened civilizations would fall to barbarian hordes, who, in turn, would plunder their riches, establish their own empires, and eventually succumb to the same cycle of decline. From the ancient Syris city-states to the Solomonic Republic, from the Solomonic Empire to the Frankish Kingdom, and now to the current fragmented world, history repeated itself.
The Western Solomon Empire had attempted to address this issue by employing foreign mercenaries. However, their reliance on outsiders had backfired spectacularly, resulting in the emperor’s assassination and the empire’s collapse. The Eastern Solomon Empire had learned from their predecessors’ mistakes.
Emperor Basil II, the current dynasty’s founder, had established a military doctrine that emphasized a two-pronged approach: a standing army as the primary fighting force, supplemented by foreign mercenaries for specialized tasks.
This policy had attracted a steady stream of mercenaries from across the land, seeking their fortune in Constantinople. The renowned Varangian Guard, the Empire’s elite protectors, were a testament to this policy, comprised primarily of Norse warriors from distant lands.
In Constantinople, the sight of armed individuals roaming the streets was commonplace. They were mercenaries, and their presence had led to a proliferation of taverns and training grounds catering to their needs. While low-ranking mercenaries often made do with whatever space they could find, establishments like the hotel’s training area offered a more refined experience, providing specialized equipment and a controlled environment for those seeking to hone their skills.
