Chapter 446: Trial That Defies Fate (9)

“I refuse.”

A single word, like a child’s petulant refusal, briefly froze Kavila’s expression.

But to her, Kavila’s reaction no longer mattered.

Tyrkanzyaka continued.

“Are you telling me to die again? To lose this heart that was revived, these feelings I have come to know, and return to that endless stretch of tedium and numbness?”

Once you’ve woken up, there’s no going back to sleep.

Asking Tyrkanzyaka to give up the heart she had longed for was the same as asking her to die again.

The reason the Progenitor, Tyrkanzyaka, repeatedly fell into a long slumber was that there was no difference between lying in a coffin and being awake.

Without sensations or awe, it was hard for her to be passionate about anything except the eradication of the Sanctum.

And even then, once she realized the Sanctum merely used it to further solidify their power, that passion lost its meaning for her.

For her, the greatest entertainment had been awakening after sleep to find a world changed.

To open her eyes and find new knowledge, refined music, and strange paintings.

With her lack of senses, she could only absorb them mechanically.

But even then, to Tyrkanzyaka, that was the only change that ever meant anything.

“You expect me to return to solitude and ennui? How absurd. I am the Progenitor, your beginning and your end. How dare you demand anything of me?”

“Sis, it’s not a demand—”

“My power may no longer reach you all, but it still resides entirely within me. I am still myself. You said I have changed… but it is the opposite.”

Tyrkanzyaka had changed—but not in her manner or conduct.

As always, she had returned and reigned.

She didn’t even impose rule.

She only either slept or silently governed.

That had not changed.

It wasn’t she who changed.

“It is all of you. I did not abandon you. No. You abandoned me.”

“…Sister, I didn’t. I was always with you.”

“Kavila. Did you really think I would not know?”

Tyrkanzyaka swept her red eyes over the room.

Muri, Rahu Khan, and Bakuta were doing nothing in response to the giant shell of the Leviathan.

Bakuta, unable to contain his hunger, was just chewing on a chunk of claw.

The rest simply waited, calmly watching for Tyrkanzyaka’s decision.

Even without thinking about it for too long, this situation had been clearly orchestrated.

The vampires had been peaceful for too long to be subtle palace schemers.

As vampires, they didn’t get flustered, but that didn’t mean they were good actors.

“You were the one who woke them. Are you not the one who sent them here? If not, then why would those in slumber come to find me?”

“N-No, sister. That was the work of Luscynia’s retainers, who sought to slander you—”

“As you say, if they truly wished to oppose me, they would’ve awakened Rahan first. They’d act under his lead. They would not bother to awaken Rahu, who only watches, or Muri, who is devoted to me.”

Kavila’s plan, having been seen through so easily, began to unravel.

She didn’t show it on her face, but the slight delays between her words betrayed her.

Tyrkanzyaka pressed further.

“You deceived me and want to stop my heart, Kavila? I’m the one who brought you back from death, after you were executed for bearing cursed magic. I cherished you… And yet, you are the most ungrateful of them all…”

Her words carried not just the cold rage of a vampire, but also the wounded pride of a betrayed sovereign.

Kavila, seeing the flickering emotion in Tyrkanzyaka’s face, realized how deeply she had changed and it left a bitter taste in her dead mouth.

“…You’re the cruel one, sister.”

Kavila slowly stood, leaving Tyrkanzyaka where she sat.

“You were the only one who could command us, and yet, you didn’t even bother. You left the country to sleep in far-off lands, only to return decades later and glance at what had changed. All we could do was prepare offerings that might please you.”

“Are you saying everything you did was for me?”

“Yes! Our loyalty to you was the only feeling we had left, yet you didn’t just neglect us… You abandoned us! You even took away the one joy we had!”

Now, she was just taking back what was rightfully hers.

As Kavila said this, something swelled within Tyrkanzyaka’s chest, a torrent of emotion she hadn’t felt as a vampire.

Bitterness and injustice surged through her veins, narrowing her vision and roughening her breath.

The heart she had longed to have beat wildly out of control, and with this pain, she felt alive.

“…So you had joy, at least. I never had anything.”

Tyrkanzyaka rose to face Kavila.

“Sitting on this throne, watching over everything, was no different from closing my eyes. You—and the other Ancillae and Neonates—were just dolls moving at my will. I was better off absent from this seat, ruling from afar and focusing on my original task. That is why I left the castle, seeking long slumber in foreign lands. Because seeing a changed world was less boring than watching one that remained the same.”

She poured out everything she had never been able to tell anyone and raised her voice to all the Elders.

“You say your only joy is gone? I have lived a thousand years like that! And you, who owe your lives to me, could not even endure for three days!”

Kavila understood her.

Vampires might lack blood and tears, but that made it possible to comprehend any emotion, as they were detached from it.

Just as it made it possible to act, no matter the feeling.

She delivered her final ultimatum.

“Sis. Can’t we really go back?”

“I would rather leave this country than sit still with a dead heart. That is my will.”

“That can’t be allowed.”

– Splash.

A shallow layer of blood pooled beneath her feet.

It happened so subtly it was hard to notice, yet the force behind it was immense, almost comparable to a natural phenomenon.

A pool of blood vast enough to resemble a lake, and the power to control it.

A power so overwhelming in its sheer quantity—there was only one person other than Tyrkanzyaka who could wield such potent Bloodcraft.

Countess Erzsebet approached, delicately holding up her hem as she walked slowly through the blood, the splashing sound echoing through the fortress.

“To cast aside the power to rule over all and live instead as a mere human. Progenitor… just how blessed—and arrogant—you must be.”

“Erzsebet. Are you trying to stop my heart as well?”

“Perish the thought. Opportunity passes far too swiftly. One must seize it with all their might when it falls into their hands. Kavila’s proposal was our last chance to return everything to the way it was, but since you refuse…”

From the pool of blood on the floor, thorns rose.

Tyrkanzyaka felt sharp points pierce into her flesh.

They burrowed into her skin.

Her delicate body, still that of a young girl, could not block the thorns of the blood-red rose.

But within her, her Bloodcraft fought back, clashing with Erzsebet over the dominion of blood that had entered her.

Unsurprisingly, Tyrkanzyaka won the tug of war.

But it was a hollow victory.

Having now separated the outside and the inside she could no longer take in the mingled blood Erzsebet manipulated as her own.

“Erzsebet…!”

“Progenitor. Your power does not belong to you alone. That blood—it’s the power to command and contain all. If one who has forsaken the Duchy and broken the shackles still clings to that power… then they have no need to cultivate themselves, lead their kin, or guide a nation.”

With a scarlet smile painted across her lips, Erzsebet delivered her demand.

“Progenitor. If you truly intend to step away from this land and its throne… then at least leave your blood behind.”

Countess Erzsebet was the embodiment of ambition and vanity.

Perhaps making her a vampire had been for the sake of the world.

After all, that overwhelming vanity and need for validation had all been directed toward serving the Progenitor.

Yet that desire still remained in her.

Desire does not disappear.

The yearning for something persists, regardless of form.

The vampires that filled the hall began to move—no longer toward their Progenitor, but to their own respective makers.

Kavila averted her eyes in regret.

Perhaps she could not bear to directly challenge the Progenitor.

Instead, she sat atop the shell of the Leviathan, watching from afar.

Her earlier offer had been out of kindness, and that much was clear.

The rest… carried in their hearts the willingness to strike, should it become necessary.

“…So this is your answer.”

The Progenitor—alone—now had to face the entire gathering of vampires in this hall.

Kavila and Lunken might not be openly hostile, but still…

– Growl.

“Now that I hear it all… it makes sense!”

– Crash.

Lunken slammed his seat aside and stomped forward through the splashing blood, coming to stand between the Progenitor and Erzsebet.

Erzsebet, as if expecting this, spoke with a sneer.

“Finally made up your mind, have you? After whining about how you hated complicated talk and letting us handle it all, how fortunate you’ve decided to start using your brain.”

“Shut your mouth, wench.”

“…Wench?”

With rudeness that crossed all bounds, Lunken silenced Erzsebet, baring his teeth in a vicious grin.

“Thinking? Snort. That’s what weaklings do. Flapping your little mouths with your short teeth won’t change a damn thing. In the end, what changes everything—is strength!”

Slamming his foot down, Lunken crouched low, fixing his eyes on the Progenitor.

His protruding fangs twitched toward her—he had been waiting for this fight.

“All your lofty talk means nothing! In the end, it’s always the law of power! To decide the leader of the pack—a fight is the only way! I challenge you first!”

Lunken bellowed toward the Progenitor.

“LET’S–FIGHT! It’s time you answered the challenge I’ve held off all this time—Progenitor!”

– Boom.

With a thunderous kick, Lunken launched himself straight at the Progenitor.