The Vampire's Brand
The massive iron gates at the entrance to the mansion swung open to both sides. Before me stretched an overwhelming estate of grand proportions, complete with a perfectly manicured marble fountain. Silvia, who had been waiting at the entrance, grasped the hem of her neat maid uniform and bent at the waist in an elegant bow. Her brilliant silver hair shattered the sunlight into dazzling sparks.
I stepped down from the carriage and issued a brief command.
"Inspect the newly purchased slaves. Prepare a thousand gold coins."
"Yes, I will prepare them at once."
Bathing the slaves, changing their clothes, assigning rooms, and providing meals—Silvia would handle everything flawlessly, as she always did. The moment she bowed her head in perfect deference to the order—
"Kyuuu—!"
A white ball of fluff burst from Elina's arms through the open carriage door. Rua rolled across the dirt ground, flipping over to expose her snowy belly.
"Rua, no!"
Elina and Silvia shouted in unison and rushed after her in a panic. Rua seemed to take it as a signal for tag; she darted around, kicking up clouds of dust. In the end, she was gently captured as she dove straight into Silvia's bosom.
The foreign merchant master, who had been watching this peaceful scene, suddenly froze. His gaze locked onto the distinct Brand of Subjugation engraved just below Silvia's collarbone. He then double-checked the one on Elina as well.
"Ah... oh dear!"
The merchant master clutched his forehead as if struck by lightning and bent deeply at the waist.
"I should have realized your discerning eye was no ordinary thing! Rumors have spread even across the continent that any goods bearing your brand must be purchased without question."
The casual familiarity from moments ago had vanished, replaced by pure reverence.
"The brand shaped like crossed swords. To stand before Victor, the slave trader, and only recognize you now—I feel like gouging out my own eyes."
"Let's go inside. I need to pay you."
"Yes, sir! Move the goods into the mansion!"
The merchant master shouted at his servants. The iron cage containing the vampire was lowered from the carriage and carried into the estate. I led the merchant master—whose eyes now brimmed with respect—on a tour of the mansion's interior at his request before guiding him to the reception room.
As I settled into the plush leather sofa, Silvia placed two heavy leather sacks on the table, each divided into five hundred gold coins. A short while later—
"Lord Victor. One thousand gold coins, confirmed accurate. And here are the slave documents for that vampire."
The merchant master respectfully handed over a sheet of parchment. It bore a red mana seal—an absolute proof of binding. The instant I accepted the document, the merchant master recited a short incantation.
In that moment, blood-red mana surged from the parchment and shot toward the vampire's collarbone inside the iron cage. The mana traced a writhing, snake-like path that coiled around her pale body. It was a scene I had witnessed dozens of times today. To someone like me, unaccustomed to magic, it remained a fascinating sight every single time.
Below the vampire's delicate collarbone, the merchant master's mark flared and tore away. In its place, two crossed swords burned into her flesh with a sizzling sound. Even though her body had been forcibly shut down by the silver stake, her brow furrowed ever so slightly from the searing pain.
The Brand of Subjugation—proof that she now belonged to me—had been engraved upon the vampire as well.
Rua, who had been intently watching the strange blood-red flames, quickly lost interest as expected of a young creature with poor focus. She began scampering around the living room, only to be snatched up by the scruff of her neck by Silvia, who let out a sigh.
The merchant master, having emptied his teacup of black tea, let out another sigh of admiration.
"This overwhelming discipline and vitality. I can truly feel why Lord Victor's assets are called the finest on the continent."
"I appreciate the compliment."
My dry response. The merchant master cleared his throat and cautiously ventured,
"By any chance, do you have need of any other unusual species still remaining in my cargo wagons?"
"Not particularly."
I rose from my seat and glanced out the window at the slaves in the wagons. They were races rarely seen on this continent. That was all. None of them stimulated any desire to purchase.
"Nothing worth buying additionally."
"Ah, as expected of your refined eye. I plan to stay in the capital for about a week, so I humbly request the opportunity to see you again should the chance arise."
The merchant master bowed deeply without any lingering attachment and departed the mansion along with his carriage.
My gaze turned toward the vampire.
"Lay that one on the bed in the VIP room on the third floor."
A firm order directed at Silvia. She bowed her head in acceptance.
I shifted my attention to Elina, who had been waiting quietly in a corner of the reception room. Beneath her neatly combed black hair shone eyes the color of blue sapphires. Even the faint traces of blood on her cheek from training only enhanced her fatal allure.
"Elina."
"Yes, Master."
"Do you remember the female combat slave I purchased today?"
At my question, a subtle shift flickered in Elina's eyes.
"Yes. I recall her dagger grip was precise."
"From now on, she will spar with you continuously during training sessions. She uses a combat style different from yours. Learn her methods as well."
Elina's battlefield had always been a stage of honest, straightforward sword paths. But the place where Elina would soon wield her blade held no such meager chivalry. It was a realm filled only with the intent to tear, stab, and kill. The irregular movements born from an assassin's beast-like senses. The lethal trajectories that sliced in from blind spots. The price of missing them was brutal.
In a cruel world where an unexpected path drew a question mark, that question mark could easily become the final curiosity of one's life.
"Once today's evening routine is finished, wait for me in the office."
Elina's shoulders stiffened visibly. She seemed to harbor the terrible delusion that I had purchased the female combat slave to elevate her to greater heights. Her face flushed as she bent deeply at the waist, as if trying to hide it.
I headed straight for the training grounds.
Clang—! Crash—!
The combat slaves were training. A slave wielding a wooden spear and another holding a practice sword clashed fiercely. Power collided with power, sending sand dust flying in all directions.
"Stop."
The two slaves, who had been radiating intense killing intent, froze like beasts and bowed their heads with perfect deference.
"You. Your horizontal slash earlier had too wide an arc. Your lower body shakes every time you swing the sword."
"Yes! To maximize the power of the strike, I rotate my upper body—"
"Too long."
The slave who had hurriedly shut his mouth stiffened.
"Don't look for excuses. Spend the time you waste on your tongue focusing on your lower body instead. Keep your answers short."
"Yes!"
I held out my palm toward the practice sword in his hand. The slave holding the weapon flinched and offered it up with both hands. I gripped the wooden sword, planted my feet firmly on the sand, and lowered my center of gravity. Then I commanded the slave with the spear.
"Thrust."
The moment the order fell, he clenched his teeth and drove the spear forward. A sharp, heavy thrust that sliced through the air. But I did not deflect the shaft with my sword. Just before the spear tip reached my chest, I twisted my right foot half a step and let the trajectory slide past by a hair's breadth. At the same time, I plunged deep into his blind spot.
"Eyes forward. The strike doesn't begin at the forearm—it starts at the toes."
The rotational force from my lower body traveled up through my waist and exploded into the tip of the wooden sword in my hand.
Thud, thud—!
The end of my wooden sword stopped right in front of his throat. The pressure alone sent his hair whipping wildly. Overwhelming speed and destructive power created solely through perfect weight shifting and minimized movement.
"Anchor your weight to the soles of your feet and pierce your target using only the power of your waist. Don't scatter your strength into empty air."
A demonstration of extreme physical control without a single speck of mana or aura. The slaves, who had undergone advanced training and were nearly finished products, instantly grasped the principle. Their eyes blazed with fierce understanding.
Victor's understanding of combat and physical ability are always astonishing.
"We will engrave it in our minds!"
Beast-like absorption that required no repetition. As I stepped off the sand, they resumed their sparring. The texture of the weapons' clashing sounds had completely changed. With a single demonstration, all wasted motion had vanished. They truly were slaves handpicked by Victor.
And now, it was time to meet the vampire.
The third-floor VIP room lay thick with silence. I opened the firmly closed door and stepped inside. The vampire lay upon the highest-grade silk bed. Her skin was so pale it seemed translucent, as if it had never touched a ray of sunlight. Stark white hair scattered across the bedspread contrasted sharply with her tightly sealed, blood-red lips. A strange scent filled the room heavily—a fatal fragrance woven from the musty earth smell of an ancient tomb centuries old and the metallic tang of freshly drawn blood.
My gaze drifted to the soft curve of her chest, barely visible between the gaps of her tattered clothing. Slightly offset to the left from center—precisely where her heart lay. A blunt silver stake cruelly pierced the pale flesh and embedded itself there. Whoever had subdued this monstrous being in one blow and driven a lump of iron into the center of her heart must have been an unparalleled figure who once ruled the era.
A memory from my previous life. My younger sister's cheerful voice struck my eardrums like an auditory hallucination.
"Ah, right! Oppa. What kind of setting should we add to bring this vampire back to life?"
⟨ Casual Conversation ⟩
The careless answer I had tossed out while cracking open a beer can, half-joking.
"If you force it out with strength, it'll explode. Wouldn't it be better to twist it half a turn like a gas valve and slowly release the mana pressure?"
⟨ Casual Conversation ⟩
"Okay! We'll go with exactly that!"
My half-hearted advice and her impulsive acceptance. My life now hung entirely upon that single sloppy, crude line in the setting notes.
The most unpleasant variable of all: uncertainty. There was no way to know how my sister's created world had physically implemented that flimsy setting. I had no idea what kind of ferocious killing intent the vampire might unleash once I twisted it half a turn—whether the entire mansion might be reduced to ashes.
But the calculator in my head had already delivered its answer long ago. The most overwhelmingly profitable returns always hid at the heart of lethal risk.
My fingertips trembled faintly. The moisture in my mouth dried up completely, and the heartbeat pounding against my ribcage echoed all the way to my ears. This was not fear. It was the pathological adrenaline unique to gamblers—the kind that courses through your veins when you wager your life itself. Extreme physiological pleasure that dilated my pupils and turned my breathing ragged like a beast's.
I licked my dry lips with the tip of my tongue and gripped the rough end of the silver stake firmly. I would bet my life on that one shallow method my sister had chosen.
Counterclockwise. Slowly, I twisted it half a turn.
Crack—! Crunch—!
A horrifying, dull rupture as dense bone and the silver stake forcibly shifted out of alignment. At the same time, the ancient runes engraved on the stake's surface began reacting violently. With each microscopic turn of the stake, blue radiance burst forth. The wider the gap grew, the more the mana light exploded with blinding intensity, as if it would swallow the entire room, pressing down heavily on the air.
The vampire's body, which had been lying limp on the bed as if dead, twitched faintly. Her pale fingers, drained of all color, stirred ever so slightly. Her tightly sealed blood-red lips parted faintly, and the mana suppressed for centuries leaked out in a rough breath.
The white eyelashes slowly lifted upward. Eyes glowing red like freshly squeezed blood. That eerie and overwhelming gaze locked directly with mine.
A heavy silence froze the air in the room. The blood-red lips that had been firmly closed moved slowly.
"......Thirsty."
Her crimson gaze licked up my throat as if it would devour it whole.