Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Curse of the Sun
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“The Ardein princess is here?”
Savoring a mouthful of wine-red blood, the woman stretched languidly.
The elegant lines of her crossed thighs naturally captivated the eye. Even as her prominent bosom drew the gaze, the one delivering the report showed no sign of embarrassment and simply awaited her orders.
“What nonsense is that?”
She could tell Duke Blut Shumira had no intention of believing the report.
Frankly, even he couldn’t quite believe it himself. The most reasonable assumption was that his underlings had bungled the intelligence. But there was evidence. The sudden appearance of an outsider claiming to be the princess—that was the strongest proof.
“They say she displayed dragon-form aura, the imperial symbol.”
“Bellon. I’ve never seen a dragon myself.”
Duke Shumira replied with a hollow laugh.
To her, this matter didn’t even qualify for her attention.
“Not nobles, just lowly vampires—do they even have the discernment to recognize dragon-form aura?”
“Even so, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s a master capable of wielding mana aura to that degree.”
The rank that could be considered vampire nobility.
Vampire Lord Bellon prostrated himself before his clan’s queen and continued.
“In my view, Your Majesty, it would be best to meet them yourself. Shouldn’t we at least find out why they’ve come seeking you?”
“That can’t be her. The one who’s been such a thorn in my side is on her last legs, isn’t she? The Three Main Gods couldn’t cure her, yet the emperor tried every trick in the book—nothing worked. I still remember it. The old emperor even asked me for a way to cure her leprosy.”
If no method could be found from the gods, then perhaps from the demons.
The emperor had even sent envoys to Grimudo himself. He’d given up only after Grimudo countered with a question about whether turning human into non-human counted as a solution.
In any case, from Harma El to Duke Blut Shumira—included even those typically shunned—he’d begged for any possible cure.
If such a method had existed, he’d have seized the chance for political gain. But if the Three Main Gods were helpless, what could demons do? True, demons lacked divine blessings, so their medicine had developed relatively well.
Healing magic and surgical techniques had advanced, but reality was they couldn’t match divine power. Those who failed to find answers from the gods turned to herbs and tonics, yet they rarely proved effective. Ardein had tried every medicine, but all were useless.
“And now that woman’s alive and well—fully recovered, right there at our territory’s gates? Why our territory, of all places? And why now, of all times?”
The information came from a clan spy embedded in the capital.
The emperor’s death was imminent—no longer a top-secret matter. By now, even Demon Empress Harma El surely knew.
The imperial intelligence network had clearly weakened, and such events were never easy to conceal.
“If she’s truly recovered, she’s probably here to see her father’s final moments.”
Because the princess had always coveted the throne, and likely still did.
Failing to attend the late emperor’s deathbed risked accusations of tampering with his last words. If she hungered for the crown, filial piety be damned—she had to be there, shedding tears to leave a good impression on the ministers and retainers.
Once branded an unfilial or lowly child, it stuck hard. No amount of later devotion could erase a single past failure while the parent lived.
An unfilial, disloyal wretch as emperor?
How harsh would he be to the people and vassals? Such a frame would make claiming the throne far harder, with countless eyes viewing the princess in suspicion.
“If she truly is the princess, how do you plan to treat her?”
“What else? I was just looking for a gift—looks like a perfect one walked right to my door.”
The woman drained her blood-filled goblet and smiled radiantly.
“To offer as a letter of surrender to Her Majesty Harma El, now formally ascended as Demon Empress... the empire’s first princess should do nicely, don’t you think? For us, who’ve sided with humans all this time, to return to the demon fold—we’ll need a gift of that caliber.”
Once the emperor died, the empire was done for.
No other imperial could replace him—that much was clear. Did Duke Shumira have such deep loyalty she’d cling to a sinking ship? Loyalty, indeed!
She was the last vampire who remembered their glory. Long before her birth, when vampires ruled the continent.
Her grandmother and mother had endlessly reminisced about that era’s splendor. She couldn’t forget even if she tried—they’d seized her as a child, imploring her to restore the clan’s glory.
“The Curse of the Sun...”
Grit. Duke Blut Shumira ground her teeth.
“If not for this damned shackle, I wouldn’t settle for this petty territory! I’m the queen. The progenitor of the clan. And yet I must cower here in this squalor?”
In that glorious age, vampires treated humans and demons alike as livestock.
Living blood bags—whenever thirst struck, they fed, selecting the clever ones to turn into kin.
That paradise seemed eternal, predating even the dragons’ arrival. Yet all vampires yearned for it.
Save one.
A being so overwhelmingly powerful, the term “demon” felt inadequate.
The Primordial Demon King terrified even those vampires—they dared not touch him. Some arrogant ones provoked Grimudo, but none survived.
What shattered that golden age wasn’t Grimudo, nor the dragons that came later.
Not even the Primordial Bodies, which periodically cycled and shattered terrestrial order. During the cycle, intelligent beings’ reason overloaded just resisting regression instincts.
If one survived the cycle by luck, they’d awaken with no memories. Cycle history became blank slates.
Vampire annals held no Primordial Bodies—they were oblivious to them.
And it didn’t matter. The Primordial Bodies hadn’t toppled them.
The Goddess of Light, Elysia, wielded light’s domain but wasn’t light itself.
That belonged to the Ancient Gods. Born with the universe, one such light Ancient God took note of a single human’s life. As its saint, he broke vampire shackles, formed a resistance, and waged war on the continent-ruling bloodsuckers.
“Detestable Ancient God. I don’t know why you’d go so far for one human, but you’ll pay dearly. You will!”
Had they lost that war, it might’ve been fair.
The ancient vampires crushed the resistance with ease, claiming victory. Even the saint—whose name never spread—fell on the field. All rejoiced, threats ended.
But the true threat hadn’t diminished.
The Ancient God raged at losing its saint.
Forsaking its very self, it laid the deadliest curse upon the sun.
Ancient Gods were cosmic laws. For a law to act arbitrarily demanded a price.
But once altered, nothing escaped it. Cosmic law was the universe’s mightiest force—wielded as a weapon, none were exempt.
The sun, once shining meaninglessly, became vampires’ bane as the law shifted. Strength mattered not.
Queen, lord, progenitor—individual might meant nothing against altered cosmic law.
In an instant, the law changed. Sunbathing vampires turned to ash.
Mana or blood barriers proved futile—they were vampire power, mere parts.
Even those burned to ash. Barriers fared worse than parasols. Before this catastrophe, only a scant few survived.
Ashes swirled everywhere; survivors stared in dismay.
But that was merely the beginning. Their slaves, touching sunlight, shed vampire curses like melting ice.
Suddenly freed, they turned blades on their masters. Hard times dawned. Vampires never regained their former glory.
One murder returned as one curse, a civilization-shattering blow driving the race to near extinction.
Such was an Ancient God’s power. Why Grimudo let Kyle—who’d dealt him great damage—escape.
He’d witnessed vampires suffer this disaster with his own eyes.
Grimudo deemed himself mighty, but cosmic law was another matter. He had no desire to court such peril.
“Actually, there’s something I must report on that matter as well.”
An Ancient God’s deed. The cosmic law had already shifted.
No plea could reverse it—not even the perpetrator’s. For the law’s arbitrary change would’ve shattered that god’s ego as price.
A law merely existing as law overwhelmed its ego—let alone willful alteration?
Even trifling shifts could shred an Ancient God’s self. Otherwise, laws flipping daily would preclude life or stable stars.
Of course, Ancient Gods were immortal, eternal with or without ego.
A new ego would eventually form, but not the one that acted.
For vampires, to shift the altered law again, risking self-destruction? Absurd. The new ego wouldn’t care about vampires anyway.
“A presumed priest of an Ancient God has appeared. They say he healed wounds from solar mana.”
Even so, only an Ancient God could mend its own deed.
Only another law could circumvent a law. Not the same Ancient God, but a new one’s presumed priest—this was gravely serious.
The leisurely Duke Shumira froze goblet in hand, then straightened and eyed Leighton.
Anything involving Ancient Gods turned dire. Vampires, having suffered before, knew this bone-deep.
“Can you swear to it?”
What could oppose cosmic law?
Only another cosmic law. Laws could cancel laws. Perhaps a path to escape the sun’s curse.
Compared to this, Ardein’s authenticity was irrelevant.
The empire would fall anyway, and the princess was inferior in skill.
Were she not vampire-cursed, she’d rival human masters.
Not that sunlight weakened her—it outright killed. Combat tearing clothes to expose skin meant death regardless of prowess, like a mayfly. She rarely fought outdoors, but inwardly prided her strength. Even at the princess’s peak, she’d prevail.
“Truthfully, I can’t be certain. Neither I nor Your Majesty have met an Ancient God’s priest, so it’s mere presumption. But a god granting divine power to us... no other comes to mind.”
The Three Main Gods loathed vampires. Others might too.
The issue: they were chief gods. Lesser deities defying their will risked ruin. No god took the Three Main Gods lightly.
Heavenly God Aldehir and Evil God Oberta were exceptions, but they despised vampires too. Who among gods abandoned by all would grant vampires divine power?
A newborn god ignorant of the world, or one beyond even chief gods’ reach—the latter meant Ancient God alone.
“Even if not an Ancient God’s priest, it’s no loss to us. Summon him. Courteously.”
If truly so, they must be welcomed reverently.
If not, lavish treatment cost nothing. A god granting vampires divine power—priceless. Treat as honored guest; someday she or her daughter might benefit.
‘If that god bestows divinity not just on us but demons too...’
Another prize Demon Empress Harma El would covet.
“Viscount Leighton Valencia volunteered to escort them. May I ask if Your Majesty permits?”
“Leighton...? Ah, that one would. He needs divine power, after all. Cheeky bastard—hiding a mongrel like that from me.”
One subordinate already stirred at the priest’s emergence.
Having grasped all, Duke Shumira smiled.
“Bellon. Go relay my command to Leighton.”
To trap the delectable princess prey required preparations. To Shumira, this was mere amusement.
“Escort them courteously to my castle.”
That would likely be his final mission.
The duke added.