Chapter 30 : Hunter Hunt – (2)

Although I had already gone on one hunt with the Undertaker, that time, Luerin and Camilla were with us.

This was the first time we were heading outside the guild just the two of us, and ever since I found out the Undertaker was an Executioner, the weight of the situation felt different.

“Undertaker, I have a question,” I asked while riding on horseback.

The Undertaker, who was ahead of me, simply nodded without turning around.

“I heard that Executioners are hunters who hunt other hunters. So, the hunter we’re going after this time—who is it?”

This hunt wasn’t about killing a vampire.

No—strictly speaking, it was about killing a vampire.

The problem was, the vampire used to be a hunter—one of our guild.

“Even if you knew who that hunter was, would it matter to you?”

“Sorry?”

“For example, if the vampire we’re hunting turned out to be Camilla, would you hesitate to swing your sword?”

I closed my mouth at the Undertaker’s question.

If Camilla had become a vampire and I received the order to execute her…

Would I be able to swing my sword without hesitation?

“…I think I would hesitate.”

“Exactly. That’s normal. So don’t ask. I don’t want to see you ruin the hunt by being indecisive.”

The Undertaker answered bluntly and tugged at the reins.

“Don’t look. Don’t listen. Don’t think. We’re going to hunt a vampire, and that fact doesn’t change.”

“…Do we really have to kill them just because they’re a vampire?”

I asked carefully.

At those words, the Undertaker’s hand on the reins paused.

“What do you mean by that, rookie?”

“I mean… what if the hunters who became vampires aren’t necessarily cooperating with the vampires?”

Over the past two months I’d spent at the Hunter’s Guild, I’d come to realize something—

Most hunters—or nearly all—harbored deep hatred toward vampires.

Eleonora, who found vampires fascinating and treated them as research subjects, was an exception.

Most hunters felt murderous intent toward vampires.

So even if a guild hunter became a vampire, I doubted they would willingly cooperate with the very beings they despised so much.

“It’s not unreasonable to think that,” the Undertaker surprisingly nodded in agreement.

“But think about this—have any of the thralls you’ve encountered shown any free will?”

I closed my mouth.

The vampire crone we encountered just before meeting the priest—

Her thralls were once members of the mercenary band I had belonged to.

But there was no intelligence in them.

Neither the thralls controlled by Jursach nor the ones Hoover had stockpiled in the chapel showed any sign of autonomy.

They were just moving corpses obeying orders.

“That’s what thralls are. No matter how much they hated vampires, once they become thralls, they’re nothing but puppets.

And if a hunter becomes a thrall, they’re even more dangerous.

Do you know why?”

“Um…”

“They fight well.”

“They fight well?”

“Thralls use the skills they had in life.
So a hunter who becomes a vampire’s thrall will come at us with all the training they received from the guild.
That’s why vampires seek out strong bodies for hosts.”

According to the Undertaker, a vampire thrall that used to be a hunter was the most terrifying kind.

That’s why Executioners—hunters trained to take down other hunters—were necessary.

“So don’t think of this as a normal vampire hunt.
If you’re not completely alert, you won’t be coming back alive.”

“Yes, sir.”

At the Undertaker’s warning, I straightened my posture on horseback.

A vampire thrall who fights with a hunter’s combat skills…

“Huh?”

As I was deep in thought, a suspicion crossed my mind.

‘Wait… that’s me.’

A vampire thrall who had honed the skills of a hunter.

That description was talking about me.

But I wasn’t some puppet of a vampire.

On the contrary, I was trained and actively working as a vampire hunter.

“Undertaker, I have a question.”

“You’re wondering why you, a thrall, still have free will—am I right?”

“…Yes.”

“It’s because you’re a thrall of a progenitor.”

A thrall of a progenitor.

The Undertaker explained calmly.

“A progenitor possesses blood unlike that of ordinary vampires. Therefore, their thralls are on an entirely different level. Haven’t you noticed it? How other vampires fear your blood?”

“I have. That’s true.”

I recalled the time I encountered the vampire blood mage, Jursach.

He trembled in fear when he saw me.

Even the old vampire crone who had bitten me had disintegrated after drinking my blood.

Royal Blood.

That’s how vast the gap is between a progenitor and an ordinary vampire.

“Then why am I not a puppet?”

“You already know the answer.”

“Lily.”

“Exactly. Your younger sister—the progenitor—is consciously refusing to control you. That’s the only explanation.”

Lily had made me into a thrall.

But she hadn’t commanded or used me as her pawn.

Though she certainly had the power to do so if she wanted, she chose not to.

In other words, Lily was resisting the rule of the vampire queen.

And as her only family, I now had a reason to rescue her.

That was enough.

I had found a reason to continue being a hunter.

“Understood. I won’t ask. I won’t look. I won’t listen. I’ll follow orders.”

“Hmph.”

For the first time, the Undertaker turned his head to look at me, perhaps sensing my sudden shift in resolve.

“Have you made up your mind?”

“Yes. I must meet Lily.”

“Is she that precious to you?”

“More than my life.”

I don’t know why.

In Stormgate, familial affection was almost a taboo concept.

But when I remembered the time I spent with Lily, promising a future together under the leaking roof of that rundown shack, courage I never had would surge up from within me.

“That girl doesn’t share a drop of your blood. She’s not your real sister. And yet you’d risk your life to save her?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmph.”

After confirming the unshakable determination in my eyes, the Undertaker said briefly:

“Not bad.”

He turned his eyes forward again.

“We’ve arrived.”

Just then, the city we were heading to came into view beyond the ridge.

It was a large metropolis, even bigger than Barrington.

In the center of the city stood a massive tower, serving as both a prison and a fortress.

It left a powerful impression.

“Branwick.”

“Four hunters have gone missing here. Two of them were found dead.”

“What about the other two?”

“They were turned into vampires. One was dealt with by the Inquisitorial Knights. The other slipped into the city.”

The undertaker let out a small sigh.

A puff of white breath escaped his lips.

“That’s our target for this hunt.”

Just as Barrington had a guild branch, Branwick also housed one.

The head of this branch, unlike the hunchback I’d seen before, was a large bald man with a sturdy build.

He seemed well-informed about the Hunter’s Guild.

The moment he saw the undertaker, he bowed politely.

“Undertaker, it’s been a while. Have you been well?”

“This isn’t the time for pleasantries. Give us the full details.”

At his command, the bald man brought out a map of the city and began explaining in detail.

“As you may have heard, four hunters were dispatched to eliminate a vampire within the city.”

“I’ve heard. And two of them died.”

“Yes. It was a bloodbath. The battle happened right in the middle of the street—there were quite a few civilian casualties. It took everything we had to contain the information.”

“Enough. Get to the point. The two survivors were turned into thralls, weren’t they? I heard the Inquisition killed one. What happened to the corpse?”

“The remains were properly handled. A stake through the heart, followed by cremation.”

He added, “We sealed the ashes and sent them to the guild. They should’ve arrived by now.”

“Excellent.”

The undertaker nodded with satisfaction.

A vampire thrall wouldn’t truly die unless it was staked and burned.

That fact made me remember how horrific Eleonora’s human experiments truly were.

After several more questions and answers, the undertaker summed up:

“So, as it stands, one hunter-turned-thrall remains in Branwick, as well as the vampire who turned him.”

At that moment, the reality of our situation hit me.

We weren’t just hunting a rogue thrall.

We were also targeting the vampire who made him and now controlled him like a puppet.

And four hunters had already failed in that task.

Now, only two of us remained.

One of whom hadn’t even graduated from the academy yet.

Gulp.

I swallowed nervously.

The bald guildmaster, sweat forming on his brow, hesitantly spoke up.

“Undertaker… there’s something else.”

“What do you mean?”

“The vampire we were originally hunting… is dead. Two of the fallen hunters managed to take it down with them. A noble death, truly.”

The undertaker’s face hardened.

So the vampire was dead—yet its thrall still roamed the city.

“Excuse me, Undertaker.”

I spoke up carefully.

“Isn’t it true that a thrall is controlled by the vampire that turned them?”

“Yes.”

“Then now that the vampire’s dead, what happens to the thrall?”

There was no puppet master anymore.

Would that mean the thrall would regain free will?

It was a question born of curiosity, but also worry.

The undertaker’s face grew noticeably darker. He shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

“…Sorry?”

“I said I don’t know. This is the first time we’ve encountered this situation.”

He gritted his lower lip and gripped the shaft of his scythe.

“But we were sent to hunt. So we hunt. That’s all.”

Something about those words sounded… evasive.

As though he, too, was uncertain—and choosing duty over answers.