WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 425: Those with Nothing to Lose Are the Most Terrifying

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There is a saying: You don't use an ox-slaughtering knife to kill a chicken.

A cynical member of the younger generation might ask, as they often do, "Why not?" But that only shows they don't understand. Small things are best handled with small tools. Advising someone to kill a chicken with an ox-slaughtering knife means viewing the world through the lens of weapons rather than tools.

The same applied to worldly affairs. Dealing with a single Ain was not something I needed to ask Tyr to handle. Even if Tyr, the Progenitor, brought the Ain here herself, I would not get the result I wanted. That was why I asked Count Erte, one of the people who actually ran the Castle of the Full Moon.

...Though Count Erte herself was a vampire important enough to rule a territory.

What an impressive consort I was. A stone that rolled in was ordering a lord around with a nod. No wonder the country was falling apart.

Count Erte, who had briefly gone somewhere, soon returned.

"At present, there is one of Luscinia's bloodkin remaining near the Castle of the Full Moon."

"One? That's a rather small number."

"The Ain of a sleeping Elder are busy. They must take on the sleeping Elder's duties as well. Luscinia... did not keep many Ain, so that tendency is especially pronounced."

'Not that Luscinia kept few. Luscinia made Ain often and killed them often, like consumables. Or test subjects.'

As a mind reader, I had no trouble reading the thought hidden behind those vague words.

The more I read, the more curious I became about what kind of person the dead Elder had been. Luscinia did not seem like an ordinary lunatic.

"I sent word ahead. Would you like to meet them?"

"Yes. Let's do that."

"...Understood."

'There's no harm in meeting them, but in times like these, why seek out the bloodkin of a dead Elder...?'

Count Erte harbored that small doubt but followed without complaint. The Duke of Crimson Blood had ordered her to attend to me.

If it had been the Duke of Crimson Blood rather than me, she would not even have allowed herself to wonder. She would have moved as though she were his limbs.

What would happen to Count Erte if the Duke of Crimson Blood died as Luscinia had? Looking at Luscinia's Ain should give me a rough answer.

From the thoughts I had read, Luscinia had been a heinous lunatic, the most shunned figure among vampires. Yet Count Erte unexpectedly led me to a hospital to meet Luscinia's Ain.

The hospital was three stories tall, not high but spacious. Unlike the bloodcraft workshop and the Castle of the Full Moon, both of which possessed at least some aesthetic sense, the hospital was square and built for efficiency.

Surprisingly, relief and joy filled the hospital ruled by that lunatic's bloodkin. The humans visiting this place might still suffer, but they were relieved to know they would live.

As I sat in a guest room faintly scented with blood, a vampire entered under Count Erte's guidance.

"The Progenitor's consort? What business do you have here? There are no Elders here, nor is the Yeiling who claimed to be an Elder and occupied the hospital here."

The vampire wore an unusual sleeveless gown. Rutrik spoke as though my visit were a tremendous nuisance.

"Rutrik. Watch your words. This is a human personally chosen by the Progenitor."

"So it's only a pet. A piece of livestock becoming a pet does not mean it deserves the same treatment."

"I clearly warned you to watch your words..."

Quiet anger rose from Count Erte. The faint scent of blood drifting through the hospital reacted to her bloodcraft.

In that tense moment, the first to back down was Rutrik.

"Tch. Even here, the sorrow of losing one's Elder shows itself."

Rutrik sighed in displeasure and tilted their head.

"My apologies. Our circumstances are what they are, so we've been somewhat sensitive about the consort. So, what brings the consort here?"

I didn't know whether an apology after picking a fight was supposed to settle everything, but still. With some room to spare, I quietly read Rutrik's thoughts.

Hm. Ah. I see.

Even if they were the mad thrall of a mad Elder, calling the Progenitor's consort a pet to my face was bold. They would be in a lot of trouble if that pet ran off to tattle.

An Ain was an Elder's limbs, and the Progenitor was the master of such Elders. If I looked at it coldly, I ranked above Rutrik, just as I did Count Erte. Yet this Ain had called me a pet without hesitation.

It would not be wrong to say they had forgotten their place. The Elder directly above them was gone, so their hierarchy had disappeared.

But was that really all?

Of course not. Rutrik had intended it, at least to some extent.

'The Progenitor's consort came here personally? A tiger opened its jaws, and the prey crawled right in.'

A tremendous secret flickered behind Rutrik's indifferent expression.

'Thank you. It was easier to move because you stayed shut inside the castle with the Progenitor for days. Valdamir and the other Elders kept circling near the Castle of the Full Moon, so they could not learn what we were doing. Your existence has been helpful... One day, I will kill you before the Progenitor. For now, I'll let you live.'

Wow. I was a little surprised. This was the first time I had read someone so openly planning a rebellion.

Plotting a rebellion right outside the Castle of the Full Moon? They must have been confident in their acting.

Then again, perhaps because they were a vampire, there was not the slightest sign of unease in their expression or movements. That lack of emotion itself was strange, but since they were a vampire, even the strangeness felt natural.

I came here to investigate Luscinia's death, only to uncover such an interesting development. Was I lucky or unlucky?

One thing was certain.

I was in a bad mood.

"Consort?"

"Haha. No, I'm just in a slightly bad mood."

I scratched my head and answered with a cold smile.

"A thrall of Tyr's thrall, and a lizard's tail that even lost its Elder, calling me a pet? Honestly. Did being a vampire make you leave your guts hanging outside your body? Shall I mince everything but your liver and turn you into salted seafood?"

Count Erte was the most shocked by my harsh words. She had been standing up for me against Rutrik's rudeness, but now she looked at me in sudden distress. It did not show much because she was a vampire, but Count Erte had encountered the greatest crisis of her vampire life.

Rutrik, unexpectedly, remained calm despite being insulted to their face.

"Is that a provocation?"

"You started the provocation. I am the King of Humanity. Even the Progenitor you worship like a god is one of my people. It isn't the same as your talk of masters and thralls, but I cannot tolerate a puppet like you calling me a pet."

Since ancient times, the model consort had been one who abused their patron's power to bully others. As I raged beyond all restraint, Rutrik was flustered but secretly pleased. I had given them a justification.

So I provoked them further.

"Do you want to die? Then I'll kill you. Another one of your Ain acted up before me and was executed. I'll send one more along so you won't be lonely."

Count Erte finally shouted.

"Consort! Stop!"

"Oh? Count Erte, didn't the Duke of Crimson Blood order you to attend to me? Why are you telling me to stop?"

"For your own sake! You aren't normally like this, so why all of a sudden?"

"Why all of a sudden? Were that person's insults any less out of the blue? Is it proper to speak to me like that when Tyr herself brought me here as a guest?"

While Count Erte and I argued, Rutrik's mind raced.

'I thought the consort knew his place after staying with the Progenitor, but he's this reckless. What should I do? I want the Progenitor to lower her guard until the deed is done. But if I lay hands on the Progenitor's consort here...'

Why were you thinking so hard? I had deliberately handed you an excuse.

The Elder was dead, and Tyr had lost her control. The other vampires were still bound by their shackles, but Luscinia's thralls had completely escaped the shackles of blood. Nothing bound you anymore.

Not even if you smashed your heads against the ground until you died.

'...Still, Erte witnessed the consort provoking me first. The opportunity has been given, so even if I attack the consort, she will understand. Whatever the result, it should not affect the deed.'

Had they erased the fact that they started this from their mind? That was rather irritating.

'Thank you, consort. You drew away the Progenitor's attention, took her control, and even gave me a pretext. You gave us, who would have died and vanished with our Elder, a chance to be free. You did not intend it, but it was all thanks to you.'

Still, since they thanked me, I would let it slide.

If you were going to do it, hurry up.

I had intended it.

"Though we lost our Elder... we have not lost our pride."

Count Erte sensed the rising force and cried out urgently.

"Rutrik. Do not do something foolish!"

"The foolish thing has already happened. All that remains is to see who can go mad, and how far!"

Rutrik raised their arm. Threads torn from the shoulder of their sleeveless gown were visible. The gown must once have had full sleeves, but someone had torn them away with great force, leaving it sleeveless.

What had torn off the sleeves?

The answer appeared immediately.

Rutrik's exposed arm twisted. In an instant, as though it had developed several joints, the right arm bent eight times and curled into a circle like a nine-section whip. Rutrik grinned, stepped forward, and lashed out with it.

Luscinia had been a blood energy practitioner. The bloodkin of an Elder who studied the structure of the body itself used their bodies like tools.

Jazra had learned to use arms like wings. Rutrik had learned to use the body like a whip.

It was an attack launched by breaking bone segment by segment, giving the muscles elasticity with blood, and combining blood qi arts with martial arts. The essence of a technique that maximized destructive power even at the cost of breaking one's own body. The explosive force at the tip of that whip surpassed Historia's bullets.

The red fingernail gleaming at the tip of Rutrik's right hand rushed at me too fast for the eye to follow. Even rock could not stop that strike, and there was no evading it.

Then a red line flashed before my eyes.

Slice.

A red glint flashed, and by the time I came to my senses, Rutrik's arm had been cut into five pieces, scattering through the air. Severed fingers and grotesque joints danced wildly.

As their arm was cut apart, Rutrik muttered,

"Blood threads...!"

Five taut red strands had crossed Rutrik's path. The attack launched with enough force to destroy its wielder had ended up injuring them after all. Count Erte had cut off Rutrik's arm simply by reading the attack and laying down blood threads.

Rutrik regenerated their arm and spoke.

"You learned another bloodkin's technique. Have you no pride?"

"You dare attack the Progenitor's consort? Have you lost your mind?"

Rutrik's provocation and my response had both been problems, but those were only a dispute. Rutrik's attack had contained clear killing intent, and that made Count Erte serious.

"This is treason, Rutrik. From this moment, I shall regard Rutrik, Ain of Luscinia, as a traitor and destroy you completely!"

"This moment? No, you're wrong, Erte."

Rutrik grinned.

"From the moment Luscinia died so pointlessly, we were traitors!"

They shook their shoulder. Blood spurted from the severed surface, then reconnected as though sewn together with thread. The vampire regenerated their arm in an instant, shouted fiercely, and charged.

"Die!"

"Not so fast!"

Count Erte stabbed her own body and scattered blood threads. A red web spread before me, separating Rutrik and me. The blood threads Count Erte spun were tough and sharp enough that Rutrik would be cut if they touched them carelessly.

Yet Rutrik smiled mockingly even before the web of blood threads.

"The tighter a thread is pulled, the easier it breaks."

They did not need to destroy the entire web. If they weakened even one point on a taut thread, it would lose tension and snap.

Blood threads were also made with bloodcraft. They were formed from Erte's blood energy, but Rutrik could affect them to a limited degree as well. The drops of blood scattered when their arm was cut had landed on the blood threads, and Rutrik moved those drops with bloodcraft to eat away at them.

Count Erte stared in shock at the unfamiliar sight.

"Blood Leech...! You learned another bloodkin's technique!"

"Learning techniques is not the Duke of Crimson Blood's exclusive right!"

Bang. Rutrik struck the web with their shoulder because they could not let their arm be cut off. No matter how strong the blood threads were, they could not withstand the Blood Leech eating through them. The web snapped apart with only slight resistance.

Now only a table stood between Rutrik and me. Count Erte urgently reached out, but she was too late.

In that desperate moment, I hurriedly flipped the table over. But Rutrik's whip-like arm tore through it like paper, then became red lightning and struck me.

Footnotes:

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