Mistaken for a Masked Munchkin

Lunar Eclipse (5)

A childhood memory surfaced again.

She painted one of the calmest days in her mind.

In that ragged, torn-up scene, all she saw were smiling faces.

She had loved those days.

"Princess."

"Are you here to see His Highness again today?"

A deep voice brushed her ear.

The man had a very stylish mustache.

He was one of the aides who had always taken especially good care of her.

Whenever she skipped Blood Manipulation class and secretly went to her father's office, he was always standing in one corner of the study.

"If I remember correctly, you were scolded for ditching class just a few days ago."

"I do enjoy seeing you often, Princess, but Sir Refil will scold you."

"Hmm, even if you ask me to cover for you, I doubt it'll help."

"To be honest, Sir Refil scares me too..."

It was ordinary conversation.

She would grumble about class and sit on the office sofa.

If she sat there pouting, he would bring her warm tea.

"Then... just for today, all right?"

"I'll tell Sir Refil there were special circumstances."

"But starting tomorrow, you'll attend Blood Manipulation class properly, yes?"

He made her promise again, for who knew how many times.

Even though she knew she would not keep it, the girl obediently nodded.

As if pleased, he set a few cookies beside her teacup.

"This... is a special service for a good princess."

Cookies he had baked himself.

She had loved those.

Boring, drowsy, and crispy.

She missed the rough, uneven texture of those memories.

For Carmilla, those were the days she most wanted to return to.

"Princess."

Jersian.

A few years later, that man stood on an execution platform.

As the one carrying out the execution of Carmilla's father, the Deposed King.

***

"...Jersian."

Carmilla murmured blankly.

A broken scene from the past was reflected in her eyes.

The man ignored it and greeted her calmly.

"Have you been well?"

"..."

"What a coincidence. I never expected to run into you in such a remote village."

A stylish mustache, a neat face, a formal suit.

Jersian looked exactly as he did in her memories.

And yet, for some reason, Carmilla felt like he was a stranger.

Maybe it was because the air around him had changed.

"Honestly, I'm surprised. Even if you escaped to the Mortal Realm, I thought you'd die before long..."

Carmilla could not make a sound.

On the day her father was led to the execution platform, this was the man who stood at the front and carried it out.

The target of her revenge.

"..."

Too many words tangled in her throat.

The ones that never made it out became thorns and stuck there.

She stood frozen for a long time, and when she finally forced something out, it was only a few words.

"You... you, why..."

The question she had always wanted to ask.

A sentence she had chewed over, practiced, and resented countless times.

Maybe because her emotions were surging back up, her lips would not obey.

But that alone was enough. Jersian smiled as if he understood.

"Why... are you asking for my reason?"

She wanted to know.

And all she got in return was mockery.

"Who knows."

"..."

"I thought this side had better prospects."

"..."

"The previous rulers were too soft. Harmony? A pretty phrase, nothing more. We vampires are the race meant to rule this continent. But for centuries we stayed in place because of peace treaties and nonsense like that."

"..."

"We endured that humiliation for far too long. Rotting in fake comfort, this kingdom became full of idiots babbling about harmony between species. Starting with your father, and those foolish ancestors of his too. But your uncle alone offered me something different."

Carmilla's uncle.

The one who toppled the Blandir Dynasty and founded the New Kingdom.

"He made me an offer. He asked whether I wanted to change this tedious world, whether I wanted to carry on our ancestors' will that was severed centuries ago. A world ruled by vampires. A world where inferior beings live as livestock. Those words captivated me. The mindset a conqueror should have...!"

"..."

"From that day on, my heart began serving him."

"...Since when."

Since when had she been deceived?

"When, exactly... since when was it all a lie."

Her words became awls and dug into a festering wound.

Memories she had once treasured leaked out like yellow pus.

The girl's vision blurred with tears.

"All of it..."

Had all of it been a lie?

Your words, your promises, the teacups, the cookies, the pinky swears.

Everything you gave me.

Was it all just deceit?

Her swaying vision made her stagger.

The man answered cruelly anyway.

"How long do you think he prepared this plan?"

"..."

"A full fifteen years."

Fifteen years.

For Carmilla, that was half her life.

At the same time, it was around when Jersian had first begun getting close to her.

"Then from much earlier..."

"Yes."

"So it was all a lie..."

"I approached you under his orders from the beginning, Princess."

Even the question she had clung to like driftwood snapped in half.

Humiliation, exhaustion, emptiness, all of it spilled out.

Through the hot tears running down her face, the man smiled hideously.

"Thank you for being stupid enough to fall for it."

Mockery.

Carmilla could not hold on to reason any longer.

"How dare you..."

Something shattered.

Into countless pieces.

"Then... just for today, all right?"

"I'll tell Sir Refil there were special circumstances."

She had not wanted to believe it.

She had not wanted to face it.

"This... is a special service for a good princess."

The dream woke anyway.

A traitor stood before her.

The enemy who had killed her father stood before her.

"How dare you...!"

What had she wanted to hear from him?

That he had his reasons, or that he begged forgiveness, had she wanted even that?

As tears streamed down her cheeks, a crimson aura surged around her.

The Blood Manipulation she forced out formed a massive blood storm around them.

Kwaaaaaa!

"Oh?"

"Traitor."

"Surely you are not trying to attack me, Princess."

"Traitor of the Blandir Dynasty. Regicide criminal. Jersian Delpirn!"

"You haven't forgotten, have you? I was one of the kingdom's finest purebloods too."

"As the last princess of Blandir, I will judge your atrocities!"

"I thought I was past the age of playing with you."

"Shut up...!"

Shwaaaak!

The blood storm from her fingertips crashed toward Jersian.

The blood condensed into a rain of bright red spikes.

It was an attack born of fury.

"Princess."

But then,

one gesture from the man.

"I have not lived in vain enough to lose to a vampire far younger than me."

Kwagagagak!

The girl's attack was blocked all too easily.

As if she had expected that, Carmilla was already unfolding her next strike.

"Hup...!"

A stake honed from blood.

At the end of a taut bowstring, writhing blood-red killing intent.

Its poisonous tip was aimed straight at the man's heart.

-Blandir-Style Blood Manipulation, Sixth Form:

'Piercing Kill'

Ping, shwaeaaak!

Perfect timing, perfect angle.

It was a blow that should have succeeded.

But the man caught the arrow where he stood.

Crack.

"Oh, your skill has improved quite a bit."

"...?!"

Kkudeudeuk.

Jersian snapped the arrow in half.

As if it had not moved him at all, his gaze stayed cold.

The girl froze with the bow still in her hand.

An overwhelmingly crushing force.

Her red eyes shook unsteadily.

"How...?"

Jersian had always been strong.

But he had never been this overwhelmingly powerful.

He had repeatedly lost in sparring matches against the Late King.

'Human blood...!'

He had consumed potent human blood.

To vampires, it was like a narcotic or a stimulant.

Blood with exceptional effects, thanks to humans' high refinement and intelligence.

"Haa... can you feel it? This overwhelming power?"

In other words, Jersian was now several times stronger than Carmilla remembered.

A dark crimson haze writhed in every direction.

Overdosed power was leaking out.

"Isn't it funny? Something this good was banned over hollow talk about dignity and all that..."

The corner of his mouth twisted grotesquely.

"The Late King really was an idiot. Everything he said about him was completely right."

Words that insulted her father.

But Carmilla could not move recklessly.

A chilling killing intent was pressing down on her shoulders.

'Impossible.'

It felt like even a slight graze would get her killed on the spot.

Pitch-black fear gnawed at her heart.

"Then... it's time to wrap this up. I'd love to play with you more, but sadly I have an important ritual ahead."

Tak!

Jersian's step burst into a leap.

Before her eyes could even follow him, his figure appeared right in front of Carmilla.

A blood-forged fist slammed into her solar plexus.

Bbeoeok!

"Khk...!"

"Your reactions are slow."

Carmilla was driven far back.

She barely held her senses together, but she could not shake Jersian as he pressed in.

The girl quickly unfolded Blood Manipulation.

"Kgh, uh...!"

-Blandir-Style Blood Manipulation, Seventh Form:

'Crimson Canopy'

Even with her posture broken, she perfectly reproduced the Seventh Form.

A dark red barrier wrapped around her whole body.

For a moment it looked like she had defended herself, but...

"Did you think you blocked it?"

-Delpirn-Style Blood Manipulation, Eleventh Form:

'Wild Dance'

Kwakwakwak!

His violent barrage of fists crushed the barrier inward.

Jjaenggeurang! Red shards exploded apart, and his fist punched through.

Carmilla could barely react before taking the hit cleanly.

Bbaak!

"Kuhk...!"

One-sided violence.

Blood dripped from her split lips.

"C-Carmilla-nim...!"

Alice, shocked, tried to help, but she was surrounded too.

The vampires who came with Jersian had already blocked every escape route.

She tried to push through, but it was not enough.

Card Soldiers crashed into them, but the difference in numbers kept forcing them back little by little.

"W-wait, everyone, hold the line so they don't break through...!"

The cards were struggling against the ghoul horde.

At this rate, both of them would be killed without being able to do anything.

"Tsk tsk... is this all you've got?"

Jersian toyed with his mustache.

He clicked his tongue like this was not even entertaining.

Thud, bbeoeok!

She desperately tried to get back up, but follow-up blows slammed into her arms and legs.

With her strength gone, Carmilla collapsed on the spot.

"Kgh..."

Puhk.

A light strike hit her face. Her vision blurred for a moment.

Even the tears running down her face rolled through the dirt and turned to muddy water.

The girl desperately forced her wavering mind to hold on.

Between flickering flashes of vision, only pained, ragged breaths escaped.

'The plan...'

The promised one hour.

'I think... it's already been a long time...'

There was still no sign of Viktor.

Had something gone wrong?

No, it did not seem likely that anything had happened to someone as strong as him.

As she gasped roughly, a black whisper crept into her ear.

'Or...'

Or had she been abandoned?

Had she been betrayed again?

Everyone she had trusted, everyone she had cherished, had betrayed her.

Had Viktor also thrown away his useless master and left somewhere on his own?

"Haa, haa..."

Breathing was hard.

Crying and groaning mixed together into a ragged, ugly sound.

She was rolling around at Jersian's feet.

"Human blood is forbidden, we'll lose ourselves, all you people ever did was babble those half-baked lines... and this is the result?"

"Haa, uh..."

"This is why your father was a failure."

Thud, thud.

Jersian looked down at her with indifferent eyes.

Not even a trace of warmth remained in them.

A few more heavy kicks followed.

"Hm."

"..."

Carmilla finally sagged, limp and powerless.

Then Jersian, as if struck by a good idea, pulled out a canteen from his waist.

"I will make you an offer."

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