Ch.237Three Clans (4)

This was the first time Llewellyn had seen the Court Count.

He couldn’t see the Court Count in the game, and there had never been a reason to see him in person.

At best, it was rare for Llewellyn, a mere blood bag, to see the faces of the Blood Clan, and most of those who worked with him kept their faces covered.

For a moment, he wondered, “Could he have been among the workers?” but Llewellyn quickly dismissed the thought.

He couldn’t imagine someone of the Court Count’s high position doing such menial work.

Even though Blood Knights were closer to actual “knights”…

It was the same logic as why there were no knights who cooked.

‘Unless they’re Black Knights. They wouldn’t cook for themselves.’

And considering that for the Blood Clan, drinking blood and extracting it from blood bags was akin to cooking, this was indeed Llewellyn’s first meeting with the Court Count.

It had to be the first.

If Llewellyn had encountered the Court Count on the day of his escape, he would have been the one to die.

Just by facing him, Llewellyn realized this.

‘He’s on par with the Empress.’

Not good news. It meant that even if they fought here, a favorable outcome would be difficult.

‘Not everything in this world can be solved with power.’

When Llewellyn first opened his eyes in his homunculus body, he thought that leaving the fortress and gaining freedom would make things easier and more comfortable, but that wasn’t the case.

There were too many things that couldn’t be resolved with power. In fact, very few things could be.

And even those weren’t easy.

Llewellyn spoke.

“No, I’m here of my own will.”

The Court Count raised an eyebrow. He didn’t hesitate to reveal his irritable attitude hidden beneath his androgynous appearance.

“Can you truly assert that it’s your will? It seems to me you were merely manipulated into coming here.”

The Blood Clan members who had guided Llewellyn to the Court Count were all bewildered.

Having been charmed by “Father,” feeling his intense presence, and even sensing divinity, they were taken aback.

Though it was truly irreverent, for the first time in their lives, they felt aversion to the Court Count’s actions.

“He’s thoroughly enchanted you.”

The Court Count said, looking down at the Blood Clan member. His gaze from the high seat emanated a dark energy.

“Even such behavior from my kin isn’t your intention, yet you truly claim that your presence here is of your own will…”

“What do you know?”

Llewellyn didn’t care.

“I’m standing here by my own will. What explanation is needed?”

He spoke boldly. It wasn’t so much a calculation that he wouldn’t lose in a fight, but more that he saw no reason to be polite to someone with such a haughty tone.

“You have a point.”

Surprisingly, the Court Count accepted his words readily.

“What matters is your will and your qualification. So I ask you.”

The Court Count had approached before Llewellyn realized. He exuded a transcendence different from the Empress.

If the Empress’s presence was like a snake crawling at one’s throat, constricting one’s breath…

The Court Count gave the sensation of something foreign flowing in one’s blood.

A feeling as if there was a foreign object in Llewellyn’s veins. A sensation beyond discomfort, sending chills down his spine.

Llewellyn looked at the figure now standing before him.

At first, he thought it was a man.

Llewellyn had friends who could be called effeminate, so he was familiar with androgynous appearances.

But upon closer inspection, there was something different.

For instance, there was an androgynous quality reminiscent of Lorian.

If Lorian’s feminine aspects were maximized to the extreme, the Court Count seemed to have toned down that femininity and ambiguously filled in with masculinity.

If viewed as a man, he appeared male; if viewed as a woman, she appeared female. It was utterly ambiguous.

Was it because he was sexless? Or had Father intentionally designed him that way?

Llewellyn didn’t know. It wasn’t an issue to determine right now. He simply faced the Court Count silently.

“What did you come here for?”

Before Llewellyn could answer, the Court Count’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder. It was a light touch, as if addressing a close friend, but Llewellyn sensed the blood magic hidden beneath it.

As if threatening to reduce Llewellyn to a puddle of blood on the spot, depending on his answer.

Instead of drawing upon his divinity to counter, Llewellyn looked into the Court Count’s eyes.

“What do you want from me, blood bag, to have come all this way?”

The Court Count saw Llewellyn as a blood bag. Not as someone with Father’s qualification, possessing Father’s divinity, capable of replacing Father.

The Court Count was a fundamentalist. He believed that only the true “Father” could fill that role, and despite the slim—no, nonexistent—possibility, he was willing to kill Llewellyn on the spot.

And depending on the answer, he would gladly do so. Llewellyn averted his gaze from the Court Count and looked at the floor.

“Llewellyn…!”

Lorian, belatedly sensing the situation, tried to intervene, but stopped at Llewellyn’s outstretched hand.

A momentary glint appeared in the Court Count’s eyes, but Llewellyn’s concern wasn’t the Court Count’s curiosity about Lorian.

How should he respond?

His purpose was clear. Llewellyn wanted to prevent the world’s destruction. The more allies, the better.

That’s why he sought help from the Three Clans, one of the most advanced powers in the world. It was partly the Empress’s suggestion, but the Three Clans’ cooperation was essential for Llewellyn’s future plans.

Various options appeared and disappeared in his mind.

He wouldn’t put on airs. It lacked sincerity. He didn’t want to anyway.

He didn’t draw upon his divinity to engage in a power struggle. He hadn’t come here to fight.

He didn’t claim he could stop the war or lead the cold war in favor of the Blood Clan. He had neither the ability nor the intention.

While both war and cold war should be stopped… Llewellyn believed that wasn’t his role to lead.

Negotiation, mediation, persuasion, bargaining.

All sorts of words and phrases chaotically crossed his mind. There were even suggestions from his divinity about what might be the right approach, but…

Llewellyn closed his eyes to block them out. When he opened them again, the Court Count was looking at him curiously.

“I need your help.”

The Court Count’s eyes widened.

“…What are you saying?”

“The world is going to end. Both Netel and the stars want me to prevent it, but their method requires me to betray myself and give up my happiness, which I don’t want to choose.”

Once he started speaking, the words didn’t stop. Without the Court Count interrupting, Llewellyn looked at him steadily and spoke honestly.

“I’m thinking of a way to prevent it. Actually, I have a plan, but I need a lot of help to execute it.”

The Sword Saints, the Black Knight Order.

The Knights of Arba, remnants of the Inquisition, and the few refugees gathered in this new continent.

Even numerous mercenaries were employed and commanded by Rie Hezedia. But it wasn’t enough.

The mixed-blood vampires were rapidly growing to rival the Blood Clan, and Ortemilia’s magical assistance was tremendous, but…

He knew that simply increasing the number of people and their power wasn’t sufficient. Llewellyn’s plan required much more strength and assistance.

Experience was also crucial. That’s why Llewellyn looked to the Court Count.

And to the Court Count, Llewellyn’s eyes weren’t those of a beggar.

Without pleading or appealing to emotions, he was simply and honestly stating that he needed help. He didn’t look pitiful.

“Court Count, I don’t know your name, your personality, or what you can do. Honestly, the Empress is the same, but she just seems like that kind of person.”

Llewellyn let out a slight laugh. The Court Count unconsciously removed his hand from Llewellyn’s shoulder, and Llewellyn rubbed his shoulder as he spoke.

“But I need your help. I, no, I… Huh.”

He stopped mid-sentence and shook his head. He gave a slight, self-deprecating laugh.

“The truth is, I’m not anything special. I don’t have any particular talents, and there’s not much I can do. I’ve come this far because the people around me are amazing, and they believe in me, follow me… they genuinely care about me and think about my future.”

That thought hadn’t changed. Though he had chosen the wrong race and became a blood bag, a monster, a god…

Llewellyn still didn’t think of himself as extraordinary. Rather, he was quite ordinary.

The truly remarkable ones were those who forged their paths without such power or qualification.

It was because such people had helped Llewellyn that he stood here now.

Had any one of them been absent, Llewellyn would have died at some point along the way.

He would have died, been taken, or lost the ability to choose many times over.

That’s why Llewellyn was confident.

“With your help, I can accomplish more.”

He boldly asked for help. The Court Count let out a hollow laugh at his sincerity.

“…You’re too honest.”

“I tend to be that way.”

The Court Count had stepped back half a pace and was now standing with his hands behind his back.

“If you dislike the path that only benefits the stars and Netel… there’s also the option of surrendering your body to ‘Father’.”

‘Father’ had already become a transcendent being. He had been devoured and was both Father and not Father.

Llewellyn knew the Court Count was already aware of this, yet he shook his head.

“That wouldn’t make me happy.”

“Hmm.”

The Court Count responded with a nasal sound.

His red eyes scanned Lorian, who met his gaze and unconsciously bit her lip.

“You’re obtuse. Too obtuse and honest to follow ‘Father’.”

“Living simply is the most comfortable.”

“I still don’t trust you.”

“That’s fine. I wouldn’t trust myself either.”

“And I won’t say you can replace Father.”

Llewellyn shrugged his shoulders, as if it didn’t matter to him.

It was an attitude that could provoke irritation, but the Court Count endured with innate composure, unclasped his hands from behind his back, and extended one.

“But I don’t mind listening to your proposal, your plan, along with the Empress. After all, if the world ends, the prospect of recovering ‘Father’ becomes remote.”

Even knowing that the world’s destruction and the opening of the heavens was the quickest way to reunite, the Court Count was a fundamentalist.

This original vampire wanted to meet his desired end in his desired way.

So when the Court Count took Llewellyn’s extended hand, he smiled briefly, as if very tired.

Even while feeling that he had once again strayed from his foundation, he couldn’t escape what he was created to be and had lived as all his life.

Unlike Lorian.

*

On the way back, after the Court Count had dismissed them and said he would wait for the Empress to arrive…

Llewellyn, thinking that things had gone well enough, was walking when he noticed the absence of following footsteps and stopped.

Turning his head, he saw Lorian. The Blood Clan member with a girlish appearance was clutching the hem of her clothes, biting her lip, and staring at the ground.

‘Why is she suddenly like that?’

Llewellyn approached without much thought, and Lorian saw a pair of feet suddenly enter the corner of her vision.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

The Blood Clan doesn’t suffer from illnesses. Mental disorders are the exception. Lorian couldn’t gauge her own deranged mind.

Whether it was due to prolonged enchantment, a side effect of the curse, or because she had noticed something…

She couldn’t suppress this mental disorder.

“Lorian?”

Unable to answer his call, Lorian dwelled on her own strangeness.

‘…I feel bad.’

She couldn’t forget the scene of the Court Count shaking hands with Llewellyn. She couldn’t erase from her mind the image of him conversing with his hand naturally placed on Llewellyn’s shoulder.

Despite all of it being normal, scenes that should simply be passed over…

A feeling as if black blood was circulating throughout her body from her heart. Lorian looked at Llewellyn.

The mental disorder seemed to ease only when she was looking at her master.

Lorian pushed away her worried master grumpily and walked ahead.

Thinking that she needed to find a solution.