Chapter 429: Those Who Have Nothing to Lose Are the Scariest

There’s a saying: “Don’t use a sledgehammer to crack a nut.”

The ever-critical younger generation might sneer and ask, “Why not?”—but that’s a sign of not understanding the point.

When dealing with something small, small tools are always more useful.

Advising someone to use a guillotine for a chicken means that they see the world not through tools, but through weapons.

It’s the same with life.

There’s no reason to ask Tyr to personally intervene for something as minor as meeting a single Ancilla.

Even if the Progenitor herself were to summon one, it wouldn’t get the result I’m after.

That’s why I asked Countess Erte, the one who actually manages the Plenilune Castle, to take care of it.

…Though honestly, Countess Erte is herself an influential vampire, on par with a lord of a territory.

And yet here I am, a consort pushing around a noble like it’s nothing.

No wonder the country’s off balance.

Countess Erte, who had briefly disappeared somewhere, returned shortly.

“At present, only one of Elder Luscynia’s coven remains near Plenilune Castle.”

“Just one? That’s a low number.”

“Ancillae of Elders who have entered slumber tend to be busy. They have to take on their maker’s duties as well. Elder Luscynia… kept few Ancillae, which made this trend especially noticeable.”

｢’Few’ isn’t quite right. He created many Ancillae, but also killed them off frequently, like disposable tools or test subjects.｣

As a Mind Reader, I had no trouble catching the thought behind her vague words.

And the more I read, the more curious I became about the kind of person the now-dead Elder Luscynia truly was.

He didn’t seem like just another madman… more like a monster.

“I’ve sent word ahead. Will you meet them?”

“Yes, let’s.”

“…Understood.”

｢It’s fine, I suppose, but… in this turbulent time, must we really seek out the coven of a dead Elder…?｣

Though she harbored a flicker of doubt, Countess Erte obeyed without complaint.

The Crimson Duke had commanded her to assist me.

Had it been Valdamir in my place, she likely wouldn’t have even allowed such a thought to form in her mind—obedience would have been absolute, as if she were his own hands and feet.

If the Crimson Duke were to die like Luscynia… what would become of Countess Erte?

I suppose the Ancilla I’m about to meet might be a hint.

From just reading thoughts, Luscynia seemed like a brutal, terrifying lunatic—shunned even among vampires.

Yet surprisingly, Countess Erte did not lead me to some shadowy den but… a hospital.

The hospital had three floors in total.

Not too high, but spacious enough.

Unlike the slightly artistic Bloodweaver Workshop or the grand Plenilune Castle, the hospital had a square, utilitarian design prioritizing efficiency.

And inside this hospital, run by the coven of that deranged Elder… there was peace and even joy.

Humans who had come here were still in pain, but were clearly relieved to have survived.

I sat in a room tinged faintly with the smell of blood when a vampire entered, led by Countess Erte.

“The consort of the Progenitor? What brings you here? There are no Elders here, nor any Neonates claiming to be one running this hospital.”

It was a vampire in a rather unique sleeveless gown.

He looked at me as if my visit were a huge inconvenience.

“Lutric. Watch your words. This person was personally chosen by the Progenitor.”

“Still just a pet, no? A livestock that made it to pet status shouldn’t expect to be treated as an equal.”

“I warned you once already. Choose your words carefully.”

A subtle fury radiated from Countess Erte.

The lingering scent of blood in the room reacted to her Bloodcraft.

Just before the situation boiled over, the first to back down was… Lutric.

“Tch. Even here, the sorrow of being Elderless shows.”

Clicking his tongue with displeasure, Lutric nodded.

“Apologies. Given our circumstances, we’re a little sensitive when it comes to consorts. So, what brings you here?”

As if ‘apologies’ erased everything.

Still, I now had the breathing room to quietly read his thoughts.

Hm. Aha.

Oh?

No matter how mad Luscynia was, for one of his vassals to call the Progenitor’s chosen ‘a pet’ so casually?

If I were to go tattling, this guy would be in deep trouble.

Ancillae are the limbs of Elders.

Elders serve the Progenitor.

Like Countess Erte, by hierarchy, I’m technically above him.

And yet this Ancilla calls me a pet.

He’s forgotten his place… or maybe it’s more than that.

Maybe this was intentional.

｢The consort is personally visiting us? To think he would walk into the tiger’s den by himself.｣

Behind Lutric’s indifferent face lay a terrifying secret.

｢Truly, I give you my thanks. By staying holed up with the Progenitor these last few days, you made it easy for us to move. Valdamir and the other Elders were too busy lurking around the castle to notice what we were doing. You’ve been helpful… though I’ll still kill you in front of the Progenitor someday. For now, I’ll let you go.｣

Wow. I’ve never seen anyone plot rebellion so brazenly before.

Planning a coup this shamelessly, right at the doorstep of the Plenilune Castle?

He must really trust his acting skills.

Then again, being a vampire, there’s no trace of anxiety in his face or posture.

That total lack of emotion is unnatural, but for a vampire, even that feels natural.

I came here to investigate Luscynia’s death, but instead I’m uncovering a possible rebellion?

Should I call this good luck or bad?

One thing’s for sure—I’m annoyed.

“Consort?”

“Haha. I’m just a little irritated, that’s all.”

Scratching my head, I replied with a chilly smile.

“A pet, huh? Says the little lizard tail left behind after losing your Elder. Did he take your vampire guts along with him as he fell? Want me to mince the rest and jar it like pickled entrails? If you really dislike me, why don’t you use your hands instead of your words?”

To my surprise, Countess Erte looked the most shaken by what I said.

She’d been supporting me earlier, scolding Lutric for his rudeness, but now seemed deeply troubled.

Being a vampire, her expression didn’t show much—but even she was now caught in the ultimate vampire dilemma.

Lutric, on the other hand, remained calm despite being insulted to his face.

“Is that provocation?”

“You started it. I’m the King of Humans. Even the Progenitor you worship is beneath me. I might not be part of your system of makers and vassals, but a mere puppet calling me a pet? I won’t let that slide.”

Historically, being a consort meant wielding power backed by a powerful patron and that allowed them to bully others under their name.

Now, having gone beyond bullying into open provocation, Lutric faltered.

“Wanna die? I’ll grant your wish. One of your kind already got themselves executed for mouthing off to me. Want to join them?”

Finally, Countess Erte couldn’t take it anymore and shouted,

“Consort—please, enough!”

“Eh? Ms. Erte, weren’t you ordered by the Crimson Duke to assist me? Why are you telling me to stop?”

“I’m doing this for you! Why are you acting like this out of the blue?”

“Why am I acting like this? Do you think this is acceptable? He called the guest of your god a pet!”

While Erte and I bickered, Lutric’s mind was racing.

｢I thought being with the Progenitor meant he understood his place, but he’s far more reckless than I imagined. What should I do… I need to keep the Progenitor off guard until the grand plan is complete, but if I lay a hand on the consort now…｣

What’s with all the hesitation?

I even handed you the perfect excuse.

An Elder is dead.

Tyr has lost her dominion.

The other vampires may still be bound by the Shackles of Blood, but Luscynia’s vassals have completely broken free.

Nothing is holding you back.

Not even death.

｢…Still, the consort instigated first and Erte witnessed it. Since I’ve been given a pretext, even if I attack the consort, it will be accepted. Whatever happens won’t affect the plan.｣

Already erased the part where you provoked me first, huh?

That’s a bit irritating.

｢Once again, thank you. You distracted the Progenitor, stripped her of her dominion, and gave me a reason to act. It was thanks to you that we, who should have died with our Elder, were given the chance to be free, even if it wasn’t your intent.｣

Well, since you’re grateful, I’ll let it slide.

Go ahead.

Make your move.

Because this was intentional.

“Though we’ve lost our Elder… we haven’t lost our pride.”

Sensing the growing hostility, Countess Erte urgently shouted.

“Lutric! Don’t be foolish!”

“The foolishness has already happened. Now it’s just a matter of seeing who can push it further!”

Lutric raised his arm.

The torn seam at his shoulder was exposed—once a fully-sleeved gown, now sleeveless from being ripped off with great force.

What could have torn the sleeve?

The answer revealed itself immediately.

Lutric’s arm twisted unnaturally as if it had suddenly grown multiple joints.

His right arm bent at eight sharp angles, curling in a loop like a segmented whip.

With a smirk, he stepped forward and lashed his arm through the air.

Luscynia was a master of Blood Aura.

His coven, who studied the structure of the body itself, learned to wield their flesh as tools.

Jazra had learned to use his arms like wings.

Lutric meanwhile had learned to use his entire body like a whip.

Severing bones strand by strand, giving elasticity to muscles through blood manipulation, merging Bloodcraft and Qi Arts into a destructive strike—this was the apex of a technique that maximized destructive force by destroying one’s own body.

The snap of the whip-like limb produced more impact than bullets from Historia’s guns.

The glowing red claws at the tip of his right hand lashed out faster than the eye could follow.

If hit, even solid stone wouldn’t block or dodge that strike.

Then—red light slashed across my vision.

– Slash.

Before I knew what had happened, Lutric’s arm had been sliced into five pieces and scattered through the air.

Severed fingers and twisted joints danced erratically in the air.

Even as his arm was being cut away, Lutric muttered.

“Blood Thread…!”

Five taut strands of red thread had intercepted Lutric’s trajectory.

The attack, so fierce it could injure even the user, had indeed wounded him.

But Countess Erte had read the attack and deployed Blood Threads just in time to sever his arm.

Lutric, regenerating his arm, sneered and spoke,

“You’ve learned techniques from another coven. Have you no pride?”

“And you dare attack the Progenitor’s consort? Have you lost your mind?”

Lutric’s provocation and my reaction may have been the spark, but now it had escalated.

His attack held unmistakable killing intent, and that had made Countess Erte deadly serious.

“This is treason, Lutric. From this moment on, I declare you—Luscynia’s Ancilla—a traitor and shall consign you to oblivion!”

“This moment? No, you’re wrong, Erte.”

Lutric chuckled.

“We became traitors the moment Duke Luscynia died so pathetically.”

He flexed his shoulder. From the severed stump, blood burst forth and reattached like stitches.

In an instant, his arm regenerated, and he charged forward with a fierce roar.

“Die!”

“Not so fast!”

Countess Erte stabbed herself and unleashed a spray of Blood Threads.

A crimson web unfolded between me and Lutric, blocking his path.

Her threads were tough and sharp—touching them recklessly would slice Lutric to ribbons.

But Lutric stood before the web of blood with a smirk.

“The tighter the thread is pulled, the easier it snaps.”

He didn’t need to destroy the whole web.

Just weaken one tight strand and the entire tension would unravel.

Blood Threads were created with Bloodcraft, and while formed from Erte’s power, Lutric could still influence them—just enough.

Earlier, when his arm had been severed, drops of his blood had splattered onto the threads.

Now, using his own Bloodcraft, he manipulated those droplets to erode the Blood Threads.

Erte gasped at the unfamiliar sight.

“Blood Drain…! Another coven’s technique!”

“Learning techniques isn’t the Crimson Duke’s exclusive right!”

– Crash.

Not wanting to lose another arm, Lutric smashed into the web with his shoulder.

Even strong threads couldn’t hold when the very material it making it was drained.

The web snapped with only slight resistance.

Now, only a table remained between us.

Countess Erte desperately reached out.

But it was too late.

In a moment of crisis, I quickly flipped the table over.

But Lutric’s whip-like arm tore through it like paper—and became a red lightning bolt lashing toward me.