The Last Vampire Prince
For a moment, my footsteps halted. What is this? I wondered.
“Taverns are places where all sorts of rumors gather,” the vampire said with a smile, gesturing to the seat across from him.
“I'm Germain Akasha,” I introduced myself as I sat down. If he knew I was a saint, he must already know my name, but formalities were in order.
“You already knew who I was?”
The vampire, still smiling, pointed to the menu. “What would you like? Our house wine is particularly excellent.”
“Then I'll have a glass of that.” It was only polite to order something in a tavern.
With a slightly languid motion, the vampire poured a glass from a bottle of wine and slid it toward me. “This is three-year-aged wine. I hope it suits your taste.”
I lifted the glass and took a sip. The wine was surprisingly good. “Delicious.”
“Thank you.”
At a glance, aside from his slightly pale complexion, he was indistinguishable from a human. Vampires were like that by nature. The one before me was a fairly handsome man, tall and striking, though he carried a dark, solitary air.
“I'm Eltis Masquerade.”
Finally, the vampire introduced himself. I knew that name. As a being who'd lived for so long, it was only natural—a pureblood vampire.
“So you're the vampire prince.”
Eltis's eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know that?”
Drakan had told me stories about vampires, including the last vampire lord and his prince.
“Drakan told me.”
“You know Lord Drakan?”
“Yes, we had a connection.”
At the mention of Drakan, Eltis seemed quite excited. “Where is he now?”
“He passed away from old age not long ago.”
Eltis was so shocked he couldn't close his gaping mouth. After a moment, he calmed down, poured himself a fresh glass of wine, took a sip, and spoke. “I see. I'd always thought of him as an immortal being.”
“He seemed to think so himself.”
Eltis looked deeply saddened—perhaps grieving the loss of someone who knew him, or maybe something more. I couldn't tell.
“How did you know I was coming?”
That was what intrigued me most. “I'm not sure how you'll take this, but my kind is extremely sensitive to living beings. I can sense them as far as the village outskirts.”
That wasn't a full answer. He might have detected my teleportation, but how did he know I was a saint without ever seeing my face?
“Even if you sensed my teleportation, how did you know I'm a saint? Rumors alone wouldn't pinpoint me.”
“As I said, I'm very sensitive to life forces. Long ago, I met a few saints and saintesses. You give off a similar vibe. Of course, you're quite unique, Lord Germain. There's a hint of spirit about you too. And now that I see you up close, you remind me of Lord Drakan as well.”
Sharp senses indeed. This must be what a pureblood vampire was like.
“What brings a saint like you here?”
“Simple curiosity.”
And that was the truth. I had no intention of capturing Eltis even if I could.
“Unexpected. I thought you might have business with someone else.”
“Like what?”
“Perhaps assassinating the king... or coming to hunt me down like the church did in the old days.”
I chuckled and shook my head. I wasn't that devout a saint. The scriptures never mentioned hunting vampires anyway.
“Of course, I do have questions. Why now?”
“Long ago, on that day, I suffered a grievous wound and fell into a deep slumber. When I awoke, nearly a millennium had passed. That was about four years ago. And I fulfilled the promise I made a thousand years prior.”
The enemy of his house—or rather, his entire race. He might only have killed the king and princes; they should be grateful for that. If this vampire prince had willed it, hardly any humans in the Neos Kingdom would have survived—maybe just Count Ktolari, and only if Kutula protected him.
“I see. For what it's worth, I have no intention of telling other humans I've met you. That's why I came alone.”
“Thank you.”
“What are your plans going forward?”
Pureblood vampires lived for immense spans. This prince had already lived over two thousand years, counting his slumber, and would likely endure even longer.
“For now, I'd like to repay the child who awoke me. Ah, the girl who works here during the day. If I look after her for about ten years and hand over this tavern, she'll do fine. Honestly, I haven't thought beyond that.”
“No plans to create vassals?”
Purebloods could only produce offspring with each other, but they could sire vassals by sharing their blood. That was why ancient humans feared them—their numbers could swell rapidly.
“Not in the slightest.”
His answer was firm. Unless another pureblood miraculously appeared, the vampire race was effectively extinct. When Eltis drew his last breath, vampires would vanish from the world.
What if I were the last human left? The thought flashed through my mind. It would be profoundly lonely.
“As fellow ancient races, the elves still survive, gathered deep in the Great Forest.”
“Oh, really?”
A faint flush of color touched Eltis's pale face. Though not the same race, the mere fact that elves endured seemed to please him.
We continued chatting amiably for some time. Then, on a whim, I asked about something that had been nagging at me. “Eltis, do you know what a nanagopi is?”
“Ah, I've seen one once. Caught it but let it go out of pity.”
Jackpot. I'd had no leads on nanagopi, and here was someone who'd caught one firsthand.
“What sort of creature is it?”
“Well, it's a living thing, but closer to a magical beast. Similar to a doppelganger, but different. A doppelganger merely mimics what it sees, while a nanagopi becomes identical to whatever it devours.”
That explained how it survived undetected for ages. One mystery solved. But detecting one sounded tricky.
“Is there a way to spot a nanagopi?”
“For a vampire, our senses make it easy. For humans, I'm not sure. From a vampire's perspective, though, its life force is completely different from a normal human's.”
“Stronger?”
“No, ridiculously weak. Even in human form, it feels like an insect's. That's why it feeds frequently and changes shapes often.”
Valuable intel. I wasn't sure exactly what he meant by life force, but it probably tied to soul size. Find a human or creature with an absurdly tiny soul?
“Excellent information. It's hardly payment, but is there anything you need?”
Eltis smiled and shook his head. “I'm content as is.”
By then, it was nearing midnight. Joseph would throw a fit if I didn't head back soon. “I should be going. We'll cross paths again someday, I'm sure.”
Neither of us was truly immortal, but we might live centuries—perhaps millennia. We'd meet at least once or twice.
“Next time, I'll have better drinks ready.”
I pulled a pouch of gold coins from my sub-space and set it down. Even a vampire needed money to live among humans—the more, the better.
“Then consider this prepayment.”
Eltis accepted it without refusal. I bid farewell and teleported away.
Thus ended my first meeting with the world's last vampire prince.
As expected, Joseph scolded me for hours when I returned. I protested that I'd left a note, but it was futile against his long-dormant zealot fervor.
With all the crown princes gone, the Neos Kingdom plunged deeper into chaos. Central authority had collapsed entirely. The third prince's son, as the new king, should have succeeded, but the first prince's sons claimed legitimacy, and powerful nobles eyed the throne.
It was time for me to leave Neos.
The blockade had lifted after the new king ascended. When I told Count Ktolari of our departure, he didn't hide his reluctance.
Didn't you tell me to go earlier?
My presence let him stay neutral in the succession struggle. “Isn't it Lord Kutula's will?” I said, striking at his nerves and silencing any rebuttal.
After a few days of preparations, our original group set off for Akasha Territory.
As on the way in, we toured territories, healing the sick. Everyone knew war loomed in Neos, and some begged me not to abandon them. But that wasn't something I could fix.
I could pick a successor and raise them like Ether's heir, but I saw no need. The promising candidates weren't impressive anyway.
Once we crossed into Ether Empire lands, things quieted down. Even in the moving carriage, I kept writing without rest.
One day, Jayke, seated opposite, stared at me and made an odd comment. “My lord, what exactly are you writing?”
“Huh?”
Was Jayke illiterate? No, he could read.
“Sir Jayke, you can't read?”
“I can read and write the common tongue.”
Was I writing in elven or dragon tongue? No, it was common script. I didn't hide my writing; I just stored finished pages in sub-space.
“Just look.”
“No, it's blank paper.”
What? It was clearly visible to me. Was it invisible to him?
I called Joseph into the carriage. “It's blank.”
Shock hit me. Was this why they'd stared at me like a madman while I wrote?
I ran tests: handwriting samples, artifact-printed text. Normal writing—whether by my hand or artifact—was readable by all. But my chronicle pages? Only I could see them.
Why? The cause was obvious. Who else could pull off something this unnatural? Not Juno or Kutula, though.
Still, if no one could read it until I died, it was pointless. Desperate to find a way for others to read it, I experimented further—until disaster struck.