Chapter 440: Recess

To a human, even a single day of recess can feel long and dissatisfying.

Trials must be handled with care, sure, but for someone anxious, even one day is too long.

But to a vampire, a day is just a short break.

It was time enough to go out, drink some blood, and return.

The vampires left the hall leisurely, assured they would reconvene soon.

Only a few Elders remained.

“Your Excellency. I must excuse myself for a time. Please grant me leave to depart.”

“You must be busy. Go and report back.”

“My deepest gratitude.”

With Valdamir leading the way, the Elders quietly withdrew, looking faintly displeased.

Soon, only Tyr, Lyre, and I remained in the vast, empty hall.

Tyr glanced around, then relaxed her expression.

“You navigated that crisis quite splendidly.”

“Crisis? Hardly. It’s not like I’m the one who’d die if things go badly. Lyre would.”

The moment you offload the risk onto someone else, it becomes mere entertainment.

No stakes, no tension.

Even so, Tyr smiled faintly at my blunt honesty.

“Fufu. You speak with such ease, but I know. I know why you wanted to save her. As the King of Humans, you are fond of those who try to save others.”

“Nope. I’m not really that fond of them.”

“There you go again. You helped Shei a great deal, even though you grumbled about it. Same with her, you barely met her and already stepped into her defense. I have seen enough of you to understand.”

Did I?

It wasn’t because I liked them—it was because I wanted to see their story through a little longer.

Even if she’d been a killer rather than a doctor, as long as she didn’t try to kill me, I probably would’ve watched from the sidelines.

Tyr was slightly mistaken…

Should I correct her?

“…Or is there another reason? A darker one, perhaps?”

“Nope. On second thought, you’re right.”

Better to leave the misunderstanding as is.

Tyr turned her gaze toward Lyre, who still lay flat on the floor.

No one had ordered her to leave or move, so she remained motionless.

“Lyre Nightingale.”

“Yes, Progenitor.”

“The next session will test your qualifications. Whether you are worthy of bearing my Primordial Essence and whether you have the strength to wield it, everyone will be watching you closely.”

Then, glancing at me, Tyr added meaningfully,

“If I could see your abilities in advance, it would make the evaluation easier.”

A roundabout way of saying, “I’ll help you live, but let’s get on the same page beforehand.”

Tyr was lending her support since I backed Lyre.

Mercy from those in power and shady backroom deals are often the same thing.

Of course, I wasn’t the only reason.

As someone who once walked a similar path of using Bloodcrafts to heal humans, Tyr likely felt a sliver of kinship.

If she still held her dominion, there might not have even been a trial.

Every vampire would’ve instinctively felt what she did.

Hmm. That’s true.

There was a reason the Doctor Sage survived in Shei’s future.

So perhaps it’s fair to say Lyre will survive now as well.

Yet her face remained unreadable.

“…I have no talents worth showing.”

“No talents? I have heard your ability to save lives surpasses even that of Elders.”

“I don’t save them. I’m not interested in their lives. I only intervene in their deaths. It’s almost the same as killing.”

“Killing?”

“Yes.”

Tyr gestured for her to explain.

Lyre responded calmly.

“I have no interest in their lives. Humans live recklessly and die recklessly. I decided long ago not to care how they live or how they die. I will only intervene in their deaths.”

“But preventing death is the same as saving them, is it not?”

“Your Excellency, do you know the simplest way to save someone?”

“What is it?”

“To kill the killer. Or to swear you’ll kill them.”

So young, yet so precise.

It sounded harsh, but it was a truth understood anywhere in the world.

Killing the killer, that promise of retribution, creates order.

And in that order, people can live.

“But I no longer care. Even if they’re killers, it won’t matter to me.”

Lyre made her declaration with a detached calm.

“If someone I saved became my father’s plaything… even if they suffer and beg to be killed… even if they were reduced to food for his indulgence… I would still try to treat my mother.”

Her father saw humans as things to fix.

He dissected them, drained their blood, and severed their limbs.

Elder Luscynia modified his own Ancillae and even laid hands on humans, on his own consort and daughter.

Lyre, having inherited his blood and witnessed his acts, unwillingly became a brilliant healer.

That brilliance was mostly devoted to healing her mother.

Only a vampire devoid of tears or pity could endure such things.

That’s why Luscynia conducted his forbidden experiments to break the shackles, and why he met his end.

So that’s how it happened…

But…

Valdamir is the true culprit.

Everyone thinks Lyre killed him, including herself.

Somewhere in the gap of perception, something happened.

“…This one’s strange.”

Maybe I can uncover that gap now.

“How is that murder? You’re just someone who can’t accept death. Why phrase it so grandly? Are you in your rebellious phase or something?”

Tyr seemed to agree, nodding along with my words.

If she’d just called it human compassion, it would’ve been easier to accept.

But Lyre was far more clear-eyed than I expected.

“I did become a vampire around that time. I guess some of that influence remains.”

“Saying it like that just makes everything sound weirder!”

“It’s the truth, and I needed to ask those questions. The people I saved… didn’t stay saved.”

True.

If an ordinary kid in the Military State had said this, they’d be told to get real and grow up.

But she was raised as an Elder’s daughter, with blood and agony as her reality.

“Couldn’t you have just asked Mr. Luscynia to stop?”

“When I did, he said he’d rid me of my doubts… and turned me into a vampire.”

“…I’m sorry. That’s worse than I imagined.”

The more we talked, the more rotten the story got.

Is this what it takes to create someone like her?

“I may have had empathy before, but now I don’t. I need to set a principle. If I don’t attach a reason to my actions, I’ll forget why I move at all.”

Just like how Tyr clings to her hatred of the Sanctum, this was Lyre’s guiding principle.

With that, she could heal any human, no matter who they were.

No wonder she survived in the future Shei saw, her unshakable resolve must’ve saved many lives.

But that only made me more curious.

I once again read her memories and asked.

“Are you really the one who killed Mr. Luscynia?”

“Yes.”

Surprisingly, it’s the truth.

Then so be it, Lyre did break the shackle through Luscynia’s efforts and attempted to kill him.

But Luscynia died by Valdamir’s hand.

There’s only one reason for this discrepancy.

Lyre failed to kill him.

“Did you have the ability to kill Luscynia?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

…It wasn’t impossible.

Lyre had been flung out of the shackles after twisting and distorting it.

If Luscynia had resisted, she never would’ve succeeded—but under his tacit approval, it might have been possible.

Even the strongest person will die if they offer no resistance.

But still…

“Let me ask you one last thing.”

If she had the ability but failed… then there could be only one reason.

“Did you truly hate your father? Someone like you?”

Even Lyre couldn’t answer right away.

No matter how coldly one tries to evaluate oneself, we often don’t fully know our own hearts.

Vampires are beings of reason and logic more than emotion.

They are not fickle.

Their immortality, their immunity to pain and injury, makes them less human, more like a phenomenon than a person.

Even Lyre and Tyr, who had been freed from their shackles, were no exception.

To act, they needed a reason.

But even so, they were still human.

“Humans are more consistent than you’d think. It’s hard to be kind to everyone and hate only your father. It’s also odd to try and save every dying soul, but only want to kill your dad.”

I can read the minds of humans.

It sounds impressive, but it’s limited to humans.

What they saw, the scents they smelled, the tastes they savored, the things they touched—I can’t recreate all that.

Those senses aren’t recorded in memory.

Only fragments remain, and those are all I can read.

Since the mind isn’t perfect, neither is the one who reads it.

If I were perfect, I would’ve known exactly how Luscynia thought, moved, and died.

But I do understand the mind of the one before me.

“Did you really want to kill Mr. Luscynia?”

That stubborn, twisted gentleness of hers… where did it come from?

“…I don’t know.”

Lyre calmly stared into her own heart.

The cold clarity of a vampire allowed her to examine even her deepest emotions.

“Even when I longed for affection, he turned me into a vampire. I can’t feel anything for him.”

Lyre picked up her tools without emotion.

A bag filled with scalpels, forceps, scissors—the tools required to stitch humans back together.

In Luscynia’s hands, they had inflicted pain.

In Lyre’s, they were used to relieve it.

“Even if I had wanted to save him… he wished for death. I had no choice but to kill him.”

Pain only exists for the living.

Luscynia, surprisingly, had been well-versed in preserving life.

All of Lyre’s knowledge of anatomy and physiology, she had received it all from her father.

What is a parent to a child?

Hated, resented, perhaps.

But undeniably, they occupied a large part of one’s life, whether one wants them to or not.

“Even if I loved him… he ordered me to hate him. So I hated him.”

And Luscynia, both her father and maker, made up most of who Lyre was.

She walked a path she never wanted because of him: a vampire’s life, the life of an Elder-killer, and perhaps, even the life of an Elder.

“He never gave me anything I wanted. So how could I not hate him?”

Having packed everything, Lyre bowed deeply to Tyr.

“Thank you for your help, consort.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s say I saved a person.”

“No. I mean, for exposing everything about my father. Now, everyone knows he was a man who deserved to die. And that’s enough for me.”

Maybe it was different back then, but her hatred now seemed genuine.

Lyre gave a heartfelt thank-you, then quietly withdrew, leaving only the two of us behind.

“…So in the end, we still did not get to see her ability.”

“Right? And it’s not like healing humans is even that useful to vampires.”

“What if we bring someone in and cut them up for her to patch up?”

“In front of vampires? What is this, a slaughterhouse?”

“She would be putting them back together. Technically like a vet, is it not?”

“Calling her a vet doesn’t sound very dignified for an Elder candidate.”

With monsters who go by names like Bloodweaver and Blood Monk, I wasn’t sure the Doctor Sage could stand a chance in the Elder selection process.

Tyr, sensing my worry, reassured me.

“What is there to lose? My consort is human. Having a good doctor nearby would not hurt.”

…The Doctor Sage owes me big time.

If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have survived this so easily.