Sigh! If only there were a high-tier adventurer on this carriage, what a wonderful surprise that would be!
Just as this thought crossed Nega's mind, the axle of the alchemy carriage came to a gentle halt on the gravel road.
Right on cue, it stopped right in front of him.
Nega held his breath.
Come on.
Even an old adventurer wearing a worn cloak with eyes as sharp as knives would do.
Or a monster with a waist lined with potion bottles who could level Black Gallows Town with a single punch.
Even someone who could tell something was wrong with him at a glance, knock him out, and drag him to a temple would be fine.
Please.
Just anyone but ordinary people.
The carriage door opened.
The first to step down was a white-haired girl.
The tiny spark of hope that had just ignited in Nega's eyes died instantly.
A mere Trainee.
At most, she had the strength of a Rank 1 Adventurer.
Immediately after, a second girl poked her head out of the carriage.
She had black hair, lively eyes, and wore an absurdly intricate dress. She didn't show the slightest hint of vigilance when she jumped down—it was the relaxed ease of someone who had been overly protected.
An ordinary person.
A complete and utter ordinary person.
Nega's heart sank all the way to his boots.
He didn't even need to look at the two burly men.
At best, they were Rank 1 Adventurers.
The four of them combined couldn't beat him.
If he could still even be considered “himself.”
He wanted to retreat, wanted to scream “run away!”, wanted to smash his head against a stone pillar and die—
But his body moved before he could.
A perfectly timed look of pleasant surprise and gratitude appeared on his face, and his shoulders relaxed.
“Thank goodness... Are you adventurers from outside? Something has happened in town. Could you please help us? You just need to take a look inside. I'll lead the way.”
Don't believe me.
Don't believe me.
Please, don't believe me.
The white-haired girl looked up at him.
There was a hint of confusion in her gaze.
Yes, exactly! I'm highly suspicious! Don't trust me! Don't—
“Sure.”
The white-haired girl nodded.
Nega's heart went cold.
It was over.
Why.
Why couldn't they bring more bodyguards? Why couldn't they be a bit more cautious? Why would a rich young lady's sightseeing group agree to a strange man's invitation in such a carefree manner?!
Does your family know about this?!
Do your bodyguards know?!
Wait, the one next to her seems to be a bodyguard.
Then it's even more over!
Nega almost wanted to cry.
But his body turned around in satisfaction and began to walk. The cold, thin tube at the back of his head twitched slightly, and the command crawled up his spine like a damp insect, urging him to lead his prey inside.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps—
Suddenly.
The wind changed.
No, that wasn't the wind.
It was silk threads.
Threads so thin they were practically invisible silently tightened from all directions. Nega's wrists, elbows, shoulders, knees, waist, and neck were all bound tightly in the exact same instant.
The veins in his body bulged.
He wanted to struggle, but he couldn't even move a single finger.
No—it was his body that wanted to struggle.
Nega was stunned for a moment, and then a wave of unbelievable ecstasy washed over him.
He was... caught?!
He was caught?!
Before his ecstasy could fully take shape, a soft pop sounded above his head.
The sound of a cork being popped.
Splash—
An intensely violent stench of blood was poured directly over his head from an entire bottle.
The scalding, viscous liquid, carrying a strange medicinal fragrance, flowed down his hair, temples, eye sockets, and the bridge of his nose. Slaughterhouses, medicine pots, rust, grass roots, snow lotus, insect legs... countless indescribable scents were crammed into his mind all at once.
“Aaaaaah!!!”
His flesh was burning.
The thin tube at the back of his head was scalded awake, tightening, twitching, and curling.
Countless bloodlines surfaced beneath his skin, only to be brutally forced back down by an overbearing force within the concoction.
It hurt.
It hurt so much that his vision went dark.
But it also hurt enough for him to feel, for the very first time, the foreign commands inside his body letting out sharp, agonizing wails.
Nega raised his head with great difficulty.
The white-haired girl stood before him, casually holding a potion bottle upside down as it dripped from the opening.
It seemed to be the same kind those carriage drivers had been drinking earlier.
Nega's head buzzed.
The kind the drivers... drank?!
“Y-You guys...”
Nega struggled to speak.
What he wanted to ask was—what was that.
What on earth was in that bottle.
But his tongue wouldn't obey, his words stuck in the metallic taste of blood.
Sophie tilted her head, not catching his words.
And so, very naturally—
She poured a bit more over his head.
“Gurgle.”
“Waaaaah!!!”
Nega's entire body convulsed, his eyes rolling back until only the whites showed.
By the side of the carriage.
Buck and Gru clenched their fists at the same time.
Buck turned his head and whispered to Gru, “Terrifying. Is what we drank really that potent? It tasted pretty good, though, right?”
Gru shuddered and guessed, “Maybe... she added holy water to it? A special counter against monsters?”
“So scary, I can't look.”
—Even the bandits couldn't help but close their eyes.
The two of them turned their heads.
Not far away, another passing carriage approached. The driver poked his head out to look and saw a smoking, lacerated man twitching on the ground, while a white-haired girl calmly poured potion over his head.
The driver: “...”
The driver immediately slammed on the gas of his Alchemy Horse:
“Hyah!!!”
The carriage fled the scene at a visibly rapid pace.
The struggling Nega: ...
Nega watched the carriage speed away in a cloud of dust, with only one thought left in his mind:
Take me with you!!!
Take me with you, brother!!!
Miaoyue stood to the side, watching Sophie's performance with great interest.
How did she do it?
She recognized this potion; Sophie had made it using her own blood as an ingredient.
They were both vampires, so why did Sophie's blood make a blood servant scream in agony?
How strange. Let me watch a bit more.
Sophie turned to look at her.
Considering there might be danger nearby, she communicated with her eyes.
She blinked once.
Miaoyue blinked once as well.
In that instant, a wordless understanding seemed to pass between the two.
—Do you have any minor spells that cause injury but aren't lethal?
—Yes, yes.
Sophie took a step back, waiting for Miaoyue to cast some minor trick.
The next second, Miaoyue pattered back into the alchemy carriage and walked out holding two plates of cake.
Sophie: ...
“Didn't you say you were hungry, my Saintess?” Miaoyue offered a plate with both hands, her expression holy. “Give thanks for divine grace, I brought you a serving.”
Sophie: ...
Right.
What was she thinking?
Since when did she and Little Yue have that kind of tacit understanding?
“Thanks.”
She took the cake helplessly.
Watching this scene through his blood-smeared eyelids, Nega's mind went completely blank.
—C...
—Cake?!
—At a time like this?! Eating cake?!
Sophie held the cake in one hand while flicking her empty hand.
In the next moment—
The countless mana threads binding Nega suddenly writhed, tightened, and sliced, digging inch by inch along every bulging bloodline beneath his skin.
Avoiding his arteries.
Avoiding his windpipe.
Avoiding every single spot that would actually be fatal.
And then—the cutting began.
“Rip—”
“Rip—”
“Rip—”
Nega trembled all over from the pain.
The vampire brew seeped in almost simultaneously, surging along every freshly opened wound, violently filling his flesh and bones, taking those things that struggled to grow back, those things that did not belong to him—
One by one.
One by one.
One by one.
And scalding them to death.
Only one thought remained in Nega's head:
Just kill me.
Kill me!!!
—Could what she poured on my head be holy water? I've already begun to monsterify, so of course holy water would hurt me—
This was the last somewhat rational deduction left in his mind.
He sprang up.
One final struggle.
Either he would pounce and kill her, or he would force those two bodyguards to draw their blades and hack him to death—
At least he had to make them realize he was a monster.
At least he could die a bit cleaner.
He lunged at the white-haired girl.
The next second—
His face and the white-haired girl's foot collided in mid-air.
Smack.
Nega was kicked flying, rolling three times on the ground before coming to a stop face-down.
The white-haired girl looked down at the blood on the tip of her shoe.
She looked extremely disgusted.
She handed the half-eaten cake back to Miaoyue.
“Hold this for me.”
Miaoyue obediently took it.
Sophie's freed hand gripped the bottle once more as she walked toward Nega.
“Don't move.”
Her tone was flat.
And then she continued to pour.
Splash—
Nega:
Nega: ???
Nega: ??????
—What kind of medicine is this, hey?! What the hell is this medicine?!
—Why is there still more after pouring three bottles?! How many bottles are loaded on this carriage?!
Splash—
By the time the fourth bottle of vampire brew was poured, Nega could no longer make a sound.
He lay flat on the ground.
Pain.
Still painful.
But... it was different now.
At first, the pain was like his skin and flesh were burning together.
Like swallowing a burning piece of coal into his stomach.
The pain now began to feel... strange.
As if something was being pulled out of his body, inch by inch.
The thin tube at the back of his head stopped screaming.
It was twitching, struggling, letting out a few final weak spasms inside his skull—
And then, it went silent.
The cold presence that had nested at the back of his head, constantly issuing orders...
Was gone?
Immediately after came the burning in his blood vessels.
The scalding heat that had run rampant, making every inch of his flesh ache, began to change.
From burning.
To scalding.
From scalding.
To—warmth.
It was a very strange warmth.
Like someone who had been frozen stiff all night in winter, suddenly having warm water poured over them from head to toe.
Like the warmth of a mother placing her hand on his forehead when he had a fever as a child.
Like... a living person's body temperature.
No, that wasn't just heat, it was warmth! True warmth!
Nega's tears welled up without warning.
Mixing with the blood, potion, and dirt on his face, they smeared onto the ground.
He opened his mouth.
But no sound came out.
He could only use his last ounce of strength to press his face against the cold stone slabs.
Deep in his chest, for the first time in a very, very long time—
Something beat once.
Then a second time.
And a third.
It wasn't the one in the center of town.
It was his own.
It belonged to Nega.
He closed his eyes.
A droplet that was hard to identify as either blood or tears hung from his eyelashes.
A moment passed, or perhaps an eternity.
When his consciousness returned, the first sound Nega heard was a casual remark from above:
“You're awake?”
“—The surgery was a success.”
Rate on N.U.
