Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: The Lesser Vampire's Oath
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“Forgive me! I’ve committed a grave sin so heinous that even a silver stake through my heart would be too lenient! Please have mercy on this worthless fool who failed to recognize the Origin despite my eyes!”
Delmundo knelt and slammed his face into the ground repeatedly like a madman.
But Eugene’s gaze upon him remained ice-cold.
“Kieeeek! Not all of the Night Clan are the same! My lord, trash like this with no manners should be obliterated, kin or not!”
Mirian was thrashing about again, as if she had sold off the tension from first sensing Delmundo.
“You bastard! How dare you attack our Eugene, who will one day become the Demon King Overlord... Kiek!?”
It had been a while since Eugene had last stuffed Mirian forcibly into the leather pouch. Only then did he address Delmundo.
“Attacking a fellow clansman on sight—is that your way? Or is it Nopero’s way?”
Eugene subtly dropped the name he suspected was Delmundo’s lineage. The vampire’s face immediately paled.
“N-no, absolutely not! It was merely the mistake of this lowly, foolish wretch. Please, if it satisfies you to punish just me alone, I’ll do anything.”
Delmundo began banging his head against the ground in desperation.
‘As Roamer said, vampires place great importance on their bloodlines.’
Even the practitioners of the Pilgrim Shadow School had shown immense respect for their own lineage.
And Roamer’s master had mentioned that the vampires he encountered treated their bloodlines like human nobility.
Remembering that, Eugene had tested it out, and the effect was perfect.
‘A vampire I’ve never met before... I can learn a lot from him. But asking outright might not be wise.’
Eugene himself was cunning by nature, as were all vampires.
If Delmundo caught on that Eugene was ignorant of vampire society, the lesser vampire might get ideas.
Eugene decided to threaten Delmundo further.
“Hmm. Is there any reason I should trust the word of someone who started this mess?”
“I swear it on Nopero’s cold, blue bloodline and my father’s name. Please show mercy. I beg you.”
Delmundo groveled, as if ready to lick Eugene’s boots.
‘Father?’
Did he actually have parents who birthed and raised him?
“Who is your sire?”
“Viscount Biorans. I am his seventh child. About twenty years ago, I received his grace and became one of the Night Clan.”
Eugene nodded inwardly. Just as he suspected—no true parent-child bond.
“Where is your sire now?”
“Pardon? I... I don’t know. It’s been over ten years since I became independent.”
“Hmm.”
Eugene narrowed his eyes, his lack of knowledge on vampire society showing.
Delmundo, mistaking it for renewed displeasure, hurriedly continued.
“The last word I received placed him in the port city of Albion in Brantia. He might still be there.”
He didn’t know where Albion was, but he could ask Mark, the Brantian, later.
“I see. So your sire is Nopero’s Origin or direct descendant?”
“N-no, of course not. He’s merely one of the vassals under a direct Nopero noble—a low-rank noble, in other words. Unlike my father, I can’t even turn humans into vampires.”
‘Vassals rank below retainers, right?’
That much was clear from Roamer’s reaction when Eugene turned Galpredic.
Meaning Delmundo—and even Viscount Biorans who made him—held far lower status than a retainer like Galpredic, let alone an Origin like himself.
“Uuueeeh! Please forgive me. Let your mercy end with my annihilation alone!”
Seeing Delmundo break into loud sobs, Eugene suddenly recalled serfs from his past life groveling before their lord after committing crimes.
The vampire was genuinely terrified of him.
‘Which means...’
Eugene, having instantly gauged his position in vampire society, spoke even more coldly and sternly.
“Very well. I shall grant you mercy.”
“Ah, aaah!”
“But there are conditions.”
Delmundo, just starting to relax, flinched again. But he quickly bowed his head with a resolved expression.
“Command me as you will. I swear on Nopero’s cold, blue blood—I’ll obey anything except acts that oppose the Nopero Clan.”
* * *
“So that guy’s gonna go around spreading rumors about you, my lord?”
“Yeah. I told him to spread it to the other villages that lost their lords because of me and keep an eye out while he’s at it.”
Mirian crossed her arms and pouted at Eugene’s answer.
“Hmm. Can we trust him? My seniors said the Night Clan are infamous for being sly and vile.”
“I am a vampire too, after all.”
“Exactly.”
Suppressing the urge to smack her, Eugene replied.
“We can trust him. He swore on his bloodline and his sire’s name.”
Vampires were cunning toward other races like humans, but among their own kind, the hierarchy was extremely rigid.
That’s why Delmundo could boldly demand he kneel upon sight.
Above all, the fear and awe that common vampires like Delmundo held for Origins was beyond imagination.
Breaking a vow sworn on bloodline and sire against such an Origin was unthinkable.
“Anyway, hope he does a good job.”
“He won’t die if he does.”
Eugene had ordered him to head to Mopern first and await him after finishing his tasks, so he could decide Delmundo’s fate then.
Eugene raced down the dark night road.
The residents who had returned to Mintan Village had nearly finished cleaning up after the fire and massacre.
Seeing Sillion neatly laid to rest in one place, Eugene gauged the villagers’ fear and reverence toward him and summoned the village chief.
“As I said, my name is Yan Eugene. And I liberated Paran Village too, so you have nothing to worry about anymore.”
“I-is that true?”
“Do you think I’d go through all this at night just to lie to you?”
“No! Forgive me, knight!”
Eugene spoke solemnly to the chief, who bowed frantically and trembled.
“The people of Paran Village asked me to take charge there. What say you?”
“W-we have no reason to object if you’ll protect us safely.”
Already numb to entrusting their fate to the strongest, whatever their origin, the chief answered with resignation.
“No need to worry about safety. And no plundering, so rest easy. Forced levies will be rare too. I swear it on my honor.”
“Please lead us unworthy folk, Lord Eugene!”
No plundering alone made life livable enough, so the chief swiftly pledged obedience.
* * *
Returning to Paran Village before dawn, Eugene first called Galpredic to discuss. He was surprised by the plan but fully supported it.
As dawn approached, Galpredic gathered everyone.
Eugene surveyed the group assembled before the village hall.
The forty-odd survivors, excluding last night’s dead, wore faces full of tension and fear.
“Ludrian.”
“Yes!”
Ludrian, the strongest among the enslaved and one who had earned merits last night, stood at attention.
“Pledge loyalty to me, and I won’t sell you as slaves. Will you follow me, or be sold? Choose.”
“I will follow Lord Eugene. I swear it.”
Ludrian bowed deeply, and the other slaves who had been his subordinates knelt on one knee and shouted.
“We will follow Lord Eugene!”
Having experienced the vast power gap, they had already resolved themselves when Galpredic called them.
Knights like Eugene were rare, and following one promised advancement—they knew it well.
Living in sword-sharp Kalsbaegin, where might made right, left no room for hesitation.
The other slaves felt the same.
“We’ll follow too! Accept us! We pledge loyalty to Lord Eugene!”
Not a single one held back; all knelt toward Eugene.
Eugene slightly released his presence and said.
“Betray me, and die. Disobey orders, and die. Follow me, and I promise wealth and glory.”
Uwaaaaaah!
True to their simple, brutish nature, the slaves cheered wildly.
Eugene turned to Veron.
“Veron. What about you?”
“If you accept us, we’ll live and die for Lord Eugene. Me and these men—we’ll follow you to the ends of hell.”
Having traveled with him these past days, Veron had fully gauged Eugene’s capabilities and bowed quickly.
“Good.”
As Eugene nodded in satisfaction, Partek stepped forward with a serious face.
“Lord Eugene, why not ask us?”
“Hm?”
Eugene tilted his head.
“Aren’t we already past that? Or did I misjudge?”
“......!”
Partek flinched and knelt on one knee.
“Thank you. I won’t disappoint you.”
“Thank you, Lord Eugene!”
“We pledge our full loyalty!”
Glad and Raban hurriedly followed Partek.
“Hahaha! This is a day worth commemorating.”
Galpredic burst into laughter, and Eugene addressed the group.
“As you all know, follow Galpredic’s orders when I’m not around.”
“Yes, Lord Eugene!”
“Then, Galpredic.”
At Eugene’s call, Galpredic stepped forward.
Trained formally as a knight since childhood, Galpredic naturally organized the forty men, even dividing them into units.
The skilled became soldiers; the rest, porters for menial tasks.
With even twenty soldiers requiring specialized roles, no one complained.
The main reason was that Eugene and Galpredic were too terrifying to complain to.
“Units are roughly set. But master, to be recognized as lord, you need authentication from a titled noble. What’s your plan?”
At Galpredic’s question, Eugene smirked and pulled something from his bosom.
“A count should suffice, no?”
“Ho. More than enough.”
What fluttered in Eugene’s hand was a letter of recommendation from Viscount Fairchilden to his father-in-law, Count Winslon.
“Still, wyvern first.”
Eugene steeled his resolve.
Securing the title of first ‘Wyvern Slayer’ would make even Count Winslon happily grant the commission and recognize him as lord.
* * *
“Roamers escaping the ruins are increasing since the subjugation has stalled for so long.”
“Send Lord Oleg. He’s got nothing else, right?”
Baron Beogalan responded irritably to the steward’s cautious report.
“But we lack troops. Can’t spare castle guards, so mercenaries again... more gold...”
“Tch. Just ask the Masian Monastery knights for help. After all our donations, they won’t ignore this.”
“I reported ten days ago that the Masian Monastery knights have scattered, my lord.”
“Did I? Then hire mercenaries. Thirty should do.”
“If I may, finances are tight. Better to bolster the subjugation force Feilin Merchant Group is sending this time. After they finish, ask them to handle the Roamers too...”
“Impossible. Leave the subjugation to them alone. Oleg handles Roamers with mercenaries. Fund it from this.”
Baron Beogalan tossed a thick leather pouch curtly.
The steward, sighing inwardly as he checked it, went wide-eyed.
“M-my lord? These are gold coins! Where did such a fortune come from?”
“From the honorable, profound friendship of my noble self. Anyway, that covers hiring mercenaries for the Roamers, right?”
“Yes. More than enough.”
“Handle it.”
“As you will, my lord.”
The steward bowed politely and left the study.
“More wine. Fan harder.”
“Yes, sir.”
Servants poured wine diligently and fanned him vigorously from behind.
With a satisfied face, Baron Beogalan unfolded a letter he’d received days ago.
‘Heh heh! They’re paying as much as succeeding in the subjugation—no reason to refuse. Even if they fail once more, success next time covers it.’
The letter was from the heir of the distant Evergrow County.
A distant relative’s relative’s relative—practically a stranger.
Yet the refined, courteous phrasing and one hundred imperial gold coins bred ample goodwill.
And the request was minor.
A knight named Yan Eugene was taking the Feilin Merchant Group’s commission to subjugate the ruins—simply don’t hire any other forces besides them.
(To be continued)