Vampire Origins and Kira's Daring Escape
As Ian Raven summoned pitch-black darkness, Damon Baron and his snipers jumped in shock.
Necromancy! That guy's using necromancy!
"V-Vampire... just like a...!"
They were startled at first, but something felt off upon second thought. How could someone who served the heavens wield the same magic as a creature of darkness? No way...?
"Um... Mr. Mage."
The snipers began edging backward cautiously.
"You're not... one of those, right?"
Ian flashed a grin. The snipers looked like they were about to burst into tears any second.
Say no quick!
Belenca, catching on that Ian was just messing with them, subtly nudged his arm.
"Enough with the jokes. Care to explain?"
"It was just getting fun."
"...You're impossible."
Sigh. Mage average level. In Belenca's eyes, all mages were cut from the same eccentric cloth. Meaning Ian looked plenty weird too.
"I'm nothing like vampires. If they hate the light, they might get cozy with the dark. Me? I just have a natural affinity for it, so we get along."
Phew. Only then did the snipers exhale in relief. The thought of their mage being some evil vampire was too horrifying to imagine—the aftermath would be nightmarish.
Damon Baron didn't say it outright, but he clearly relaxed knowing Ian wasn't some wicked sorcerer.
"Actually, I was just coming back from clearing out some corpses."
"Corpses?"
Ian silently mourned the dead for a moment in his heart. Even in a world where death was commonplace, the extinguishing of a life's light was always tragic.
"That vampire devoured more people again."
"..."
"It's getting bolder by the day."
Ian rested his chin, dredging up old memories.
Eredis had taught him the Maronius Language while sprinkling in random trivia as a side dish—something to keep young Ian from losing interest in studies. To her, it was just "common knowledge," but to him, it was fascinating lore.
Tales of dragons, wyverns, drakes, and all sorts of fantasy beasts—each one captivating. Having a teacher like a living, breathing wiki had made Ian quite the trivia buff.
He vaguely recalled something about vampires.
"Seems like it woke up pretty recently."
"What do you mean?"
As Ian rattled off his monster knowledge, everyone held their breath, listening intently.
"Vampires are often called [those who incurred heaven's wrath]. They committed sins akin to blasphemy against the divine, doomed never to see the sun again."
"...I've heard that before."
"Vampires steal the life force nurtured by the sun's power to survive—since they can't bask in its light. And even in death, they can never ascend to the heavens."
"Straight to hell, no detours."
As if on cue, the medieval folk crossed themselves. Being denied heaven after death—trapped in that deep, pitch-black underground prison called hell—was their greatest fear.
"But forsaken by the gods, vampires have no fixed lifespan."
"Some live for centuries, right?"
"Eh, they just don't age to death."
Vampires were the forsaken. Many deliberately committed acts that would enrage the heavens, seeking to be abandoned on purpose. Simple reason: immortality.
Like opting out of the rat race. They were death-fearing edgelords committing blasphemy for eternal life.
"Most vampires were born at the end of the Golden Empire."
"...What?!"
People gasped at Ian's explanation. The Golden Empire's fall was over 500 years ago!
There was a reason most vampires originated then. The Golden Empire was in its death throes: extreme wealth gaps, selfish elites guarding their rice bowls, slaves treated worse than pigs, dying in subhuman conditions.
Anyone could see the empire was doomed. No one doubted its collapse.
But that certainty drove countless priests and nobles mad.
[The end of the world is nigh!]
No, the empire was collapsing, not the world. From a modern perspective, sure. Just one powerhouse nation reaching its expiration date.
But to ancient folk? Not so much. The scriptures said otherwise.
The holy texts were infallible by default. And the Heavenly God Church's scriptures contained this passage:
[On the day the empire falls, the great judgment shall begin.]
[The righteous shall ascend to paradise, the wicked plunge to hell, and the world shall be shrouded in eternal darkness.]
If the scriptures were always right, then the empire's fall meant judgment was coming. And it was right around the corner!
Were they... about to face judgment?!
The good folk shrugged: "Guess judgment's here." They were heaven-bound anyway.
But habitual trolls who tormented others? Legs shaking. They'd mocked, "lol if judgment hits, who'll follow the Heavenly God Church lol heaven's ratings tank lmao," but what now? Was heaven wrong? Nah, their own rotten personalities were.
The wicked panicked. Timid villains dumped fortunes into the church: "Please forgive my sins for this donation!"
But cornered irredeemables chose to go off the rails:
[Hell's a lock anyway—why not turn vampire?]
Judgment and hell VS vampire mode to outlast the apocalypse. The truly evil picked the latter.
They held mass human sacrifices and blasphemous heathen parties to mock the sacred heavens, becoming vampires buried underground—planning to endure judgment and emerge as survivors in the ruined world.
Perfect plan. Except for one fatal oversight they never anticipated...
The world didn't end after the Golden Empire fell!
Waking centuries later expecting apocalypse, vampires gawked at the thriving world. What?! The empire fell—why's everything fine?!
They rationalized it logically (for them). Scriptures don't lie. Must be human misinterpretation.
The reason the world survived? The Holy Empire.
'Those damn priests!!!'
Priests hastily rebooted Empire 2.0 post-collapse—that's today's Holy Empire.
[Scriptures say 'empire falls,' not 'which empire'—gotcha!]
Vampires raged at the priests' treachery. The world lived, the empire endured (name changed), and they? Just lunatics who'd mocked heaven for nothing.
Utterly backstabbed, vampires became beings of infinite hatred toward living humans, priests, and the Holy Empire. True monsters.
"If it'd been awake long, it'd have hit the territory already."
"So..."
"It woke recently and is recovering strength."
Ian explained calmly.
"Weak now, so easy to take down."
Ian was nonchalant, but Damon and the snipers paled.
"T-That's weak?!"
It slaughtered villagers and livestock effortlessly. And it'd get stronger? Territories fell to monsters all the time, but Damon never dreamed his would.
"We gotta take it out fast."
"Probably best, yeah?"
Damon noticed Ian wasn't thrilled about this gig. But they desperately needed the mage.
"C-Could you help?"
Ian smirked. He'd half-expected this since joining. Monster hunts were serious—every hand counted, especially a mage's!
"Ah, I could help, but..."
Damon clung like a leech at Ian's positive lean. Pride? Screw it—territory on the line!
"Please help!"
"I will. But..."
Ian eyed the baron with a grin.
"How many do you wanna hire?"
"...Ah."
As a medieval man, Damon got it instantly. Pay. Hiring fee.
This wasn't some "time to show your passion and volunteer spirit~" world. People moved for coin. Common sense.
Ian's demand was fair. He was turning full medieval.
"How much?"
Ian teased mischievously.
"I paid taxes to some noble recently, y'know."
"..."
"Broke now... need quick cash."
Obvious ploy. You took tolls—my pockets empty! Make it right!
Damon had no retort. Tolls fattened his purse, fact.
"A... most just demand."
No choice. Damon accepted fully: full toll refund plus hiring bonus. For Ian, Belenca, and a few mercs only.
Ian pocketed the coin pouch with a smile. Belenca boldly stuck out her hand.
"Huh?"
"My share now, please."
"For your debt repayment?"
"What? I decide how to spend my money."
"..."
True. Ian wasn't a loan shark.
Couldn't seize her earnings. Shouldn't, either.
After handing Belenca her cut (she smiled happily for the first time in ages), Ian kicked off the strategy meeting.
Now he was in on the vampire hunt.
"Easiest way: raid during the day."
All nodded. Cursed vampires couldn't walk under the sun—holed up in caves by day. Easy pickings.
Problem: no clue where the lair was. Village-wide search might take a month—too much damage and pay wasted.
And Ian's crew had no time to dawdle.
"But impossible for various reasons, so plan B."
Ambush during a raid.
Ian settled on that.
"Vampires strike from darkness, but..."
"I'll handle defenses. Field expert."
"Ooh, reliable as ever, mage."
Reports said it used Umbrakinesis. But Ian matched it—no sweat. You got night vision? Me too! Plus, recruit nocturnal birds for sentries—no surprises.
"Now, assign shifts."
He divvied up night watch too.
"Me and Belenca with Talian mercs per team. Baron, handle your men."
"Got it. We'll manage."
Then Kira raised her hand.
"I'll go solo."
Damon and Ian blinked. Night watch alone? No frontline?
"Dangerous, no?"
Ian worried for her. Weird kid or not, letting her die was another issue.
Kira snorted.
"Hmph. Know what my magic's like?"
Ian tilted his head.
"Pyrokinesis, right?"
"Y-Yeah! Pyrokinesis! But hard to focus with people around!"
Ah. Ian got it.
"Scared you'll torch 'em?"
"...!"
"...!"
Damon's men freaked, backing away. No one wanted to burn in mage fire.
'Skill's mediocre, huh.'
Inexperienced mages lack control. Ian knew from chatting with fire's mystery—pyromaniacs loving to spread flames. Lose focus, bye-bye neighborhood.
She looked Ian's age, so green mage made sense.
"I'm for it. Let Kira solo."
"Baron, I think..."
"Kira solo's best..."
No one fretted for Kira—just dreaded her flames.
'Sigh. No loyalty.'
Unlike the heartless crew, Ian assigned a bird sentry. Rush in if trouble.
"Alright. Mages on watch starting tonight."
That night, Ian's group took shifts. Luck struck—they met the vampire right away.
#
'Phew. Thought it'd snag.'
Under flickering torchlight, Kira sighed in relief.
Ian pushed for it, so she got solo night watch.
A golden chance for Kira.
What she'd craved: pantsless escape!
Her acting hit its limit. Vampire hunt? Fireworks at vamps?
She'd eyed exits from the start. Pre-Ian join-up, no opening—but now? Perfect runway!
'Fight a vampire? Insane?!'
Sorry, real mage Ian—but vamps are your job!
Kira scanned around. Her flame warning cleared the area—no rats even.
Her escape was suicidal: solo descent through vampire-infested mountains at night.
But busted as fake mage? Equally horrific.
Plus, no exit now meant stuck with the baron forever.
'Was fun while it lasted—bye forever!'
Sensing the moment, Kira grabbed her torch and bolted into darkness.
No witnesses. Plan flawless.
But... no people, yes birds.
'...Huh?!'
Ian, bird-directing night watch, jolted at the report. Kira dashed into dark alone?!
"Why?!"
One possibility.
"Kira found the vampire!"
Spotted it solo and gave chase!
Ian tongue-clicked at Kira's audacity. Whoa... chasing a vampire alone on sight? Balls of steel!