The Emperor's Audience
The imperial audience chamber gleamed with vast, breathtaking splendor. Seated upon the throne with an air of effortless grace was a girl who could rightfully be called the most beautiful in the entire Empire—no, on the entire continent. Serena Augusta.
Among the members of the Augusta imperial family, who had ruled for over a millennium, she stood out as particularly exceptional. Having ascended the throne at the tender age of fifteen and reigned for only a decade, she was already hailed as one of the greatest emperors in history. Known as one of the Three Great Sages, Serena was leading the Empire into its third golden age.
Eryk gazed up at her with genuine reverence. Whether she issued seemingly impossible orders during the war or sent soldiers charging into deadly terrain, every decision had been made for the sake of her people. Sacrificing a few to save the many—that had been the Emperor's judgment, and it had proven utterly correct.
"The Empire's hero has arrived."
"I greet the Empire's sun, Your Imperial Majesty."
"Eryk, I hear you achieved a great victory in the last battle."
As she spoke, Serena rose from the throne and approached him. Only then did Eryk realize he hadn't bowed his head. He quickly lowered it.
"...Hehe. Have you spent so long on the battlefield that you've forgotten your manners?"
"Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty."
"Please, raise your head."
Yet Serena forgave him with ease.
"I am not so tyrannical as to treat the person most devoted to the Empire with undue harshness."
"Thank you."
When Eryk expressed his gratitude, Serena smiled brightly and asked,
"By the way, Lieutenant Colonel, where is the Major?"
"...She is currently resting due to PTSD."
"Oh dear. I prepared the Major's favorite desserts, but that's unfortunate."
Serena's eyes filled with disappointment as she spoke. With that same regretful expression, she offered Eryk the snacks.
"Thank you."
"These aren't for you, Lieutenant Colonel."
"...I will deliver them to her."
"Please do."
Serena smiled again, but her eyes carried a clear message: If you eat them yourself, you'd better be prepared. I'll be asking about it.
Eryk felt his legs go weak. That damn vampire has even manipulated the Emperor...
He forced his nearly contorted expression back into its usual blank mask and fell into thought.
Just moments ago, he had witnessed her writhing in agony from the PTSD she'd earned while saving the Empire. Could he really dismiss all her efforts simply because she was a vampire? His chest ached with a dull, throbbing pain. He was beginning to hate himself for only ever thinking the worst.
"I originally planned to chat for a while... but if it's just you, Lieutenant Colonel, it won't be much fun."
"My apologies. She is a person who takes everything seriously."
"It's fine. Someone who remains consistently serious even before the Emperor has a certain charm of his own."
With those words, the Empress stood on her tiptoes and gently ruffled Eryk's hair.
"Don't worry, I have no ulterior motives. I'm older than you, after all."
"Only by one year."
"Then I'm still older."
Eryk let out a helpless chuckle at the sight of Serena's proud expression.
"Hah."
"Come on, let's go before the Major's dessert gets cold."
"Understood."
"Make sure you stay until tomorrow."
"As you wish. Then..."
Eryk saluted. Serena returned the salute, then waved cheerfully. Leaving her behind, Eryk made his way toward the room where Valentine would be staying.
......
Was it a dream?
Bermann had definitely been there. But now Bermann was gone, and all that remained was the bedsheet soaked through with cold sweat, imprinted with the shape of my body.
"So... it seems you truly hated me that much."
How much must I have disgusted him for him to scold me even in my dreams? Just when would I be able to escape this wretched curse?
"...That's right. The audience."
Only then did I remember I had been on my way to meet the Emperor. I'd been walking down the corridor after getting ready when the PTSD had struck.
"Did Eryk carry me here?"
Thinking back now, the person beside me hadn't been Bermann—it must have been Eryk.
"...Bermann would never have spoken to me so casually."
I see. The subordinate I killed no longer appears even in my dreams.
Come to think of it, had Bermann said thank you before he left? I couldn't remember. It felt like he hadn't. And yet here I was, unable to even offer a single word of gratitude to the man who had saved my life.
"I drank his blood and couldn't even properly handle his withered corpse."
What on earth had I done to the human who became my shield? How many people had I drained without so much as a word of thanks? I'd approached those who were desperately fighting to survive and...
"You're beyond saving."
"You've lost too much blood. I'll make it easy for you."
"It'll be over soon. I'll make it painless."
I'd spouted those pathetic lies and deceived them all.
The moment I realized that, it felt as if thorns had lodged themselves in my chest. It hurt. It was terrifying. It was agonizing. My chest felt tight, my bones ached with cold. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth throbbed. I wanted to throw away forgiveness, everything, and just run away.
All I wanted was to live. To live comfortably, peacefully. Why did life keep standing in my way like this? From my previous life to this one, how much more would fate toy with me before it finally let me go?
I wanted to scream the question, but there was no one to hear it.
"Haa... haa......"
My breathing grew ragged again. My heart began to pound violently, as if it would explode. Soon my gasps sounded like shells tearing through the air, and the thunder of my heartbeat echoed through my entire body like gunfire and artillery.
The PTSD took another step closer.
"Ugh...!?"
-Thud!!
The moment I, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed, collapsed—
-Knock knock knock.
"Major? Are you in there?"
"...Lieutenant... Colonel...!"
"I heard a loud noise from inside. You're not changing clothes again, are you? Answer me."
I had no strength left to respond to Eryk's question.
"Eryk...!!"
Even when I called out, no answer came. It seemed he couldn't hear me. I was going to die. Death smiled before my eyes. My fallen comrades and subordinates smiled at me. Filthy vampire. Just die already, they shouted. A black hole opened in the floor. Blood seeped from it, rotting and foul, and torn hands reached out. Each hand clutched a dog tag—the very dog tags that had always ended up in my grasp after I fed, the ones that still bound my heart and tormented me.
"...!!"
This was a peaceful lodging. No—it was still a battlefield. After five years steeped in war, everywhere I went had become a battlefield. External enemies, internal allies. The only difference was who I fought. At some point, my entire life had become war itself.
"Kuhk."
I was on the verge of suffocating. I opened my mouth somehow, trying to cough. But no cough would come.
Please, please, someone make me realize this is reality.
Someone engrave it into my mind that this wasn't a battlefield. I prayed and prayed again.
"...Major?"
Perhaps sensing something was wrong, Eryk's voice outside the door grew heavier.
Please, just kick the door down and come in!!!
I screamed inwardly, my mouth opening and closing uselessly.
"E...ryk...!"
Then the hands that had burst from the ground clamped over my mouth so I couldn't speak. Another hand pressed down on my back, pinning me in place. When my body toppled over with a thud, more hands emerged. They seized my ankles, my wrists. Just as I was about to lose consciousness—
-BANG!!!!
Eryk kicked the door so hard it shattered and came running toward me.
"Major!! Snap out of it!"
"Cough! Hack! Hack!"
Only then did my body seem to register reality. The hands of the corpses around me began to vanish. The room grew quiet once more. Eryk's worried face. His face and clothes, free of dirt and grime. The scent of shampoo, body wash, and cigarette smoke instead of gunpowder. That Eryk made me realize this was not a battlefield.
"Eryk... I was so scared."
I spoke informally to my superior. But right now, I couldn't care less about that. I had survived. In that moment of relief at being alive mixed with the guilt of being the only one who had, Eryk felt like a ray of salvation. He was an incredibly irritating person, yet I was so grateful to him. Conflicting emotions swirled inside me, and my consciousness began to fade.
But even then, I had to say this one thing.
"...Thank... you. Eryk."
"...!!"
Eryk looked startled at my words. I brushed his cheek once with my hand, then fell back into a deep sleep.
"...Thank... you. Eryk."
"...!!"
Eryk flinched in shock. It was because Valentine's hand—her cold hand—had brushed his cheek. But that wasn't all. The moment that chill swept over him, his heart had begun pounding wildly. Because as he watched Valentine drenched in sweat and writhing in pain, he had felt his pulse race.
He was moved.
Eryk, who now fully understood that feeling, spat out a curse.
"Damn it...!!"
With a wretched heart, he stared at the vampire—no, at Valentine.
"......"
"Valentine, just what are you..."
She was the enemy of his family, yet why did she make him feel this way? Why did she drag even herself down into the abyss?
He wanted to ask, but...
...Thank... you. Eryk.
Those words left him unable to ask a single question.
"...The dessert will get cold if I don't feed her soon."
Hiding his miserable feelings as best he could, Eryk muttered to himself.