The Progenitor's Thirst
The silver stake had been violently yanked free from the chest of the vampire lying on the bed. In the fist-sized hole it left behind, her red heart pulsed openly, twitching with every beat. Not a single drop of blood spilled outward—an utterly unreal sight. Blood-red mana coiled around the heart like tangled threads, slowly regenerating flesh from the empty cavity inward. Severed muscles and bones wove together with intricate precision to cover it, and soon pale skin smoothed over the surface without a trace. As if the horrific wound had never existed, not even a scar remained. It was regeneration beyond common sense, a power that shattered every standard.
I gripped the blunt silver stake I had ripped out. Her pale fingers, drained of all color, twitched faintly. Crimson eyes the color of freshly drawn blood. In the heavy silence crushing the air of the room, her lips parted.
“How… how did you pull it out?”
Her voice was cracked and dry, as though it had lain unused for ages. I answered in a flat tone.
“I got lucky.”
At my reply her red pupils drifted toward the empty air. An expression surfaced, steeped in bitter, distant longing.
“To think I would open my eyes again… Is this what that man kept calling fate?”
A low, slow monologue sank into the silence. Then her head turned toward me. The tip of her sharp nose twitched faintly. She drew in my scent from the air with persistent, almost obsessive breaths.
“What a strange aroma.”
Her crimson gaze licked across my body as if it would devour me whole.
“Beneath the smell of blood, the stench of rotting gold coins vibrates. Blood thick with hideous greed. And this alien fragrance lying at the very bottom… is rather pleasant. Just where is this place?”
The vampire’s curiosity chased after the unidentified scent. But I cut her leisurely question off with a blade.
“This is your master’s mansion.”
The merciless informal tone made her red eyes flash with sudden interest.
The marble floor of the guest room seemed to sink. The mana erupting from her pale body slammed into me like a colossal tidal wave.
“You vulgar clot of blood.”
Fierce killing intent lay beneath the elegant, refined voice.
“Even if every drop of my blood has dried away, I could erase a worm like you simply by breathing.”
Gravity crushed down as if it would shatter my entire frame. I poured every ounce of strength into resisting the mana bearing down on me. If I yielded here, I would be devoured. Every sense screamed the warning.
“Ugh…!”
The mana pressing on the room burst apart with a tearing sound and scattered. Beneath her slender collarbone, two intersecting sword-shaped brands burned a vivid, searing red, forcibly suppressing her body.
“What is this… another cheap little trick?”
Even as she narrowed her brows in pain, blood-red mana gathered sharply above her collarbone. The intent to rip the restraint apart even if it meant gouging out her own flesh. The crimson energy surged toward the brand like a beast’s claws.
Clang—!
Yet the two crossed swords repelled every shred of her mana without so much as a scratch. On the contrary, they devoured the fierce flames and burned even brighter.
“You dare brand my flesh and try to leash me?”
Even though her power had been completely sealed, a faint, intrigued smile curved her lips. Strange curiosity that outpaced anger. But soon, as if fatigue crashed over her, she half-lowered her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“Ah… I’m tired.”
The killing intent from moments ago vanished like a lie, replaced by a languid voice.
“Tearing your limbs apart can wait until after I’ve slept. First, hand over that blood that smells so appetizing.”
After flaunting overwhelming force, she lazily tucked her tail and declared herself tired—an extreme aversion to effort that would compromise if the situation wasn’t truly dire. I seized that opening and took perfect control of the situation.
“If you want blood, pay the price.”
“Hah. You should consider it an honor merely to feel my lips upon you.”
“How much do you need?”
At the dry question her red eyes slid stickily over my entire body. With a languid smile, her white finger extended. At its tip rested lips of decadent, refined crimson.
“Three sips per week.”
“Not as much as I expected.”
“To me, blood-drinking is not some pathetic means of prolonging life.”
With an arrogant tilt of her chin, she continued in a firm tone.
“It is a supreme delicacy that gently polishes my dried mana circuits and pursues pure pleasure. My dignity does not permit any shorter interval.”
“Change it to one sip every ten days.”
I immediately lengthened the period, attempting to seize the upper hand in negotiations.
“No.”
A merciless refusal without the slightest hesitation.
“If my legitimate demand is not met, I will wring every drop from the blood-reeking humans crawling around this mansion. Decide as you wish.”
A predator’s gruesome warning hidden beneath laziness. Once a week, three sips—roughly fifty milliliters. With this steel-like body, it was a donation volume unlikely to cause any health problems. A bargain of a maintenance cost for operating the continent’s worst strategic weapon.
“Fine. I accept your demand.”
“A natural decision.”
“However.” I stared directly into her red eyes and drove the wedge home. “In exchange for the blood, you will not talk back to any of my commands. Even while drinking, if I order you to stop, you will pull your fangs out immediately.”
“How insolent. Daring to put a collar on even my table manners.”
“If you don’t like it, starve.”
A taut battle of wills with zero concession. She gave a short laugh and shook her head.
“Very well. That terrible scent stimulates my appetite, so I shall specially play along.”
I shrugged off my jacket and roughly rolled up my shirt sleeves. The instant I thrust my bare forearm toward her mouth, the vampire’s red eyes twisted in open displeasure.
“Take it away.”
Cold contempt, as if regarding an insect.
“How dare you offer something like a beast’s foreleg to the feast of a noble clan?”
“Stop talking and drink.”
“The murky venous blood in the wrist is nothing but scraps that mindless ghouls would lap up.”
Her crimson gaze skipped my forearm and drove straight to my throat.
“The hottest, pulsing pure blood from the nape that goes directly to the brain. Only that is worthy of wetting my lips.”
An uncompromising, fastidious, and noble preference.
“Immediately bend that stiff neck and offer your throat.”
An arrogant demand, as though she were the superior. I clicked my tongue briefly and roughly undid the top buttons of my shirt. She approached the exposed nape like a snake, supple and fluid.
The thick scent of blood brushing my nose, mingled with the smell of centuries-old earth. White hair like woven moonlight spilled over my shoulder. The electric sensation of cold breath grazing the carotid artery. The extreme visual contrast between the pale skin pressing against my chest and lips red as fresh blood.
Thud.
Sharp fangs tore into my throat. Dizzying pain raced along my veins as her throat bobbed heavily. The moment several sips of blood slid down her gullet, a blush like it would burst spread across Evelyn’s formerly pale cheeks.
“Haa, ah…!”
A coquettish moan burst out as if she could not contain the pleasure, raw and biting. Her nails digging into my shoulder tore roughly at my shirt. Her smooth legs instinctively wrapped around my waist, pressing her body even closer in intimate demand.
“I’m going insane… huff, it’s sweet. Too sweet…!”
Hot, panting breaths as though the thread of reason had snapped. With unfocused pupils she trembled her waist in ecstasy.
“In thousands of years of existence, this is the first time I’ve encountered such overwhelming flavor. A taste that sends terrible poison racing up my spine and sets my whole body ablaze.”
Dense lust flickered in her red eyes, as if she would lick up every last drop of my blood.
“Stop.”
Consumed by pleasure, she thrashed, unwilling to withdraw her fangs.
“Get off.”
Once more the brand beneath her collarbone flared crimson, forcibly restraining her body.
“Haa, haa…!”
Panting with clear regret, she forcibly tore her lips away. Licking the blood tracing her jawline in a lewd manner, the vampire gave a dizzying, seductive smile.
“The tasting is finished, so let us confirm the contract.”
I indifferently wiped the blood from my throat and drove the point home.
“Obey my every command without question.”
At my declaration her red eyes curved in disbelief.
“How arrogant. A mere clot of blood barking about collaring a Progenitor.”
Progenitor. The instant the word struck my eardrums, my mind spun rapidly. Weekends spent in the living room with my little sister, watching third-rate horror films. The shallow tropes of those commonplace vampire movies flashed through my head.
Ordinary vampires. They retch at garlic, their flesh burns at the touch of silver stakes, and they crumble to ash beneath sunlight—half-baked members of the night clan.
But a Progenitor operated on an entirely different scale. Those who inherited the blood of the beginning could stroll leisurely beneath the sun and tear apart meager holy power with nothing but their breath—walking catastrophes.
No Damage Even When Exposed to Sunlight
The puzzle of the nameplate’s description and her vast mana clicked perfectly into place.
I had thought her merely a strong vampire, but she was the disaster itself capable of destroying the entire market ecosystem. An overwhelming card that could repay the purchase price tens of thousands of times over.
She gazed stickily at my throat and spoke with refined grace.
“Well, very well. It would be far too tiresome to go outside hunting for a feast of this caliber.”
A sensual motion as she licked the drop of blood from her fang.
“A human lifespan is at most a few decades. Until you grow old, stagger, and return to the earth, I shall play along with your petty amusement.”
An absolute being’s arrogant declaration of compromise. To me, however, it was the establishment of an exclusive contract bordering on a divine victory.
“Contract complete. Your name?”
“Evelyn.”
Evelyn. The worst disaster on the continent, engraved beneath her collarbone by my intersecting blades.
I fastened my shirt buttons again while looking down at her.
“Evelyn. From now on, call me Master.”
At my words her shoulders shook lightly. Not with anger or humiliation, but with an alluring laugh laced with irrepressible pleasure. She languidly reclined on the high-grade silk sheets, scattering her white hair in disarray.
Srrk. Evelyn seductively twisted her smooth legs, revealing dizzying curves. On skin so pale it seemed translucent, her blood-red lips curved up alluringly. With a sensual motion she licked the drop of my blood from her fang.
“Master…”
She rolled the word in her mouth, voice dripping with sensuality.
“Truly arrogant—and therefore all the more stimulating. I shall gladly call you that.”
She twisted her waist, brazenly pushing the curves of her taut breasts into my line of sight. The red brand burning beneath her collarbone formed an extreme contrast against her white skin.
“But in exchange for uttering that vulgar word…”
Evelyn’s moist red eyes licked slowly down my throat.
“Will you also quench this terrible thirst burning deep within my heart and body?”
The sticky provocation of a centuries-old Progenitor.
“With nothing but a human body, can you even fully handle me?”
The beast’s growl, wrapping blind greed for blood in the guise of bodily seduction. I indicated the two intersecting sword brands embedded in her collarbone with a jerk of my chin.
“Did I look like a fool who brands merchandise he cannot handle?”
At my calm assertion, Evelyn’s pupils trembled faintly. I leaned over the bed and whispered low into her ear.
“Don’t misunderstand, Evelyn. From now on, the only one in this world who will satisfy your terrible gourmet tastes is me.”
Her earlobe, touched by my breath, quivered lightly.
“Thirst? I’ll fill it as much as you desire. On the day you perfectly prove the value of that body beneath my feet.”
“In a life I thought would only be boring, a cute master has appeared. How very delicious.”
“I’ll prepare a place to wash and clothes to change into.”
“Yes, Master.”
Evelyn, still lying down, gave a light wave of her hand to see me off.
The firmly closed door of the third-floor guest room. Clack. The moment I released the heavy handle and stepped into the corridor, my vision spun and my knees nearly gave out. I braced against the wall and barely held myself upright.
The price of only a few sips of blood. Yet the exhaustion was so severe it felt as if every blood vessel in my body had been wrung dry. Replenishing fluids in my parched throat was urgent.
In the first-floor dining room where darkness had settled, I picked up the crystal decanter on the marble table. I filled a glass with cold water and emptied it in one gulp. The chill flowing down my dry mucous membranes finally steadied the faint trembling in my fingertips.
I needed a perfect method of control to imprint my absolute dominance into Evelyn’s mind. The bite marks on my nape throbbed, but my thoughts sank as cold as ice. I headed for the office.
Clack. I grabbed the office doorknob and pushed it open without hesitation. The moment the heavy wooden door swung wide, the air inside the room froze strangely.
Silvia, the silver-haired chief maid, was waving a feather duster adorned with plumes in every direction. Beside her, Elina—the living weapon—stared intently at the feather’s trajectory and cheered for the cotton ball. The utterly dazed scene of two people who normally maintained perfect grace and razor-sharp killing intent.
Their shoulders jumped the instant our eyes met.
“Kyuuu!”
What broke the silence was Lua, the white cotton ball rolling across the floor. The creature spun her tail like a propeller and rushed to my feet, rubbing her white belly against me. I indifferently grabbed the scruff of her neck where she clung to my trouser leg and lifted her.
“The one in the third-floor guest room has awakened.”
I delivered the report while holding Lua dangling in midair. Silvia, who had hurriedly hidden the duster and looked up, froze at the sight of my pale lips and the stained collar of my shirt. A faint hiss as she drew in a breath. Her eyelashes trembled as though her heart had plummeted at the terrible wound on her master.
“Shall I… assign her to the guest room as before?”
Silvia’s dry question barely suppressed the tremor in her voice.
“The guest room she is using will become her private room. Operate the remaining two as guest rooms.”
I indifferently brushed the dried blood from my throat.
“Also, guide her to the bathroom and prepare clothes.”
“Yes. Understood.”
“Treat her exactly like the other slaves. If she becomes angry, tell her I ordered it.”
Silvia gracefully bowed, holding the hem of her skirt, and left the office. I lightly tossed the Lua I held onto the fluffy cushion Silvia had prepared in the corner of the office. The creature flew in a parabola and buried herself in the soft padding.
“Kyut!”
She wagged her tail excitedly, apparently believing it was a new game and unaware she had been thrown aside. I went straight to the desk and leaned back in the heavy leather chair.
Elina remained frozen, her gaze still fixed on me. I opened a drawer, took out the blue mana stabilizer Theo had refined, and slid it across the table.
“Eat.”
“Kyuuut!”
Lua heard the word “eat” and wagged her tail furiously beside the chair, thinking something was being given to her.
“Ugh…”
Elina accepted the mana stabilizer and swallowed it in one gulp.
Scratch. Scratch.
I opened the documents and began sorting them. For Elina, hellish time without any fixed end stretched on.
Scratch. Scratch.