"Since I was little, I only knew my little sister."
Antanasia glanced at the silent Temorsth.
His attentive look made her pause for a moment, as if she had not expected a child to take her words seriously.
Then she cleared her throat and continued.
"Our parents abandoned us when we were very young. We had to survive by ourselves."
Her voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"We stole whatever we could. Food. Clothes. Coins. Anything that came within reach."
She let out a dry laugh.
"Naturally, people hated us. We were chased, beaten, kicked out, and blamed for things we sometimes had not even done."
Temorsth looked at her.
A strange sympathy moved inside him.
Not pity.
Recognition.
And not only from this life.
Something in the memories he carried understood... children left alone in a world that did not care whether they lived or died.
'They were alone...' The thought passed through him silently.
Antanasia's fingers moved over the hilt of one of her swords.
"To protect myself and her, I started training. It was coincidence, luck, fate, or whatever you want to call it, but we eventually met a blade master."
Her eyes softened slightly.
"He took us in. We had talent, so he taught us."
"That is why you use those swords," Temorsth said quietly.
Antanasia glanced at him.
"Yes. I became a samurai under his tutelage."
"And your sister?"
"An assassin."
Temorsth's eyes shifted slightly.
"So she fought too."
"She had to."
Antanasia's voice became lower.
"After some time, we were attacked by a vampire. Our master fought him, but..."
Her hand tightened around the sword hilt.
"He died."
The room became quiet.
"After that, my sister and I were turned into the vampire's spawn."
Temorsth's eyes narrowed.
"Then Ann, you were..."
The question left his mouth almost reflexively.
He already knew the answer.
Antanasia lowered her gaze.
"Yes. I was originally human."
She paused.
"My lord may look down on—"
"Don't even joke about that."
Temorsth interrupted her so quickly that Antanasia looked up.
"What does it matter if you were not born a vampire or that you were human?"
"I..."
Her voice lowered.
"I don't have pure blood."
"And?"
Temorsth frowned.
"Neither do I."
"No. It is different."
"Huh?"
"For you, it is still possible to become a pure-blooded vampire."
Antanasia's fingers tightened.
"But I... I have almost no chance. I am just a mud blood."
Temorsth's frown deepened.
'What does she mean by that?'
Aidana's answer appeared quietly.
[Bloodlines have Grades, Rarities, and inherited traits.]
[Among many races, especially old bloodline races, the purity and Grade of one's bloodline affect racial talent, physical traits, growth, status, and authority.]
[Turned vampires with weak or unstable bloodlines are often looked down on by born vampires. Mud Blood is likely a derogatory term used around here.]
Temorsth stared at the window.
'Hm...'
Now he understood the surface of it.
But only the surface.
Because Antanasia was not only talking about blood.
"My regeneration and body are just a bit stronger than normal because I was beaten around so much, and my body has had to adjust to this acursed blade.
But in the end, all of this happened because I was powerless..."
Her voice cracked.
Only slightly.
But he heard it.
"I am truly a disappointment."
The words were about bloodline.
But the emotion behind them was not.
Through the soul connection, Temorsth felt something tremble.
Fear.
Shame.
Sadness.
Anger.
Regret.
Too many emotions came at once, heavy enough that his head almost ached.
But inside that chaos, one thing was clear.
She blamed herself.
For her sister.
For their master.
For becoming a vampire.
For everything.
"Is this... enough now?"
Her voice had become empty.
Not cold.
Not angry.
Just tired.
She regretted starting the conversation.
Temorsth's expression hardened.
"You..."
His voice came out rough.
Antanasia flinched.
"I'm sorry."
Her head lowered immediately.
'I'm even disappointing a kid now...'
Her thought cut off when Temorsth spoke again.
"Do you actually think I care about something like that?"
"Uh...?"
Antanasia looked up.
For a second, she thought he was angry at her.
Then she realized his anger was pointed somewhere else.
"You were brought here by my father."
Temorsth leaned forward slightly.
"My father is the current king of vampires."
Antanasia's lips parted, but no words came out.
"He fought you himself. He called you strong. He spared you. He brought you here and entrusted you to me, believing you can protect me as well as they."
His eyes narrowed.
"Do you think someone like him would give me someone useless?"
"I..."
"Don't you remember what he said?"
Antanasia froze.
A memory resurfaced.
'She is strong.'
Xalier Lear's calm voice.
The Blood Red Flash.
The Merciless Executioner.
The vampire king himself had said it.
Temorsth continued.
"So don't you dare call yourself weak again."
His voice became even sharper.
"I will not allow you to say my father's judgment is wrong."
Antanasia stared at him.
"If you have a problem with what he thinks, then go to him and tell him to his face."
For a moment, Antanasia could not speak.
Then her thoughts slowly moved again.
'This little bastard...'
The corner of her mouth twitched.
'I cannot call myself weak because it would disrespect his father's judgment?'
Her emotions, which had been tangled and dark only moments before, began to calm.
'What kind of arrogant, crazy little fucker thinks like that...?'
Temorsth felt the anguish in the connection loosen.
His expression softened.
'Good.' A small smile appeared on his face.
It was the smile of someone who had done his job well.
As if everything had gone exactly according to plan.
Antanasia noticed it.
Her eyebrow twitched.
'He is pleased with himself. Wait, he diverted my thoughts...'
Somehow, that annoyed her more than the words.
And somehow, that made it easier to breathe.
...
After the room calmed down, Temorsth asked, "And then? How did you end up here?"
Antanasia leaned back in her chair.
She looked tired now, but not as brittle.
"After being that vampire's slave and killing machine for a few hundred years, he was killed by hunters."
"For a few hundred years..."
Temorsth's voice lowered slightly.
Antanasia shrugged.
"That is how it was."
She spoke lightly, but the words were not light.
"After he died, we became free. We had nowhere to return to, and no honest work would take people like us, so we eventually left our homeland."
"To the vampire lands?"
"Yes. We came to the largest vampire metropolis and became mercenaries."
Her expression became a little sour.
"After a while, we started working with the Dalca family. One of the eleven main families, like your Lear family."
'Eleven main families...'
Temorsth made a mental note.
There was still far too much about the world he did not know.
"And now I am here," Antanasia said, spreading her hands slightly, "as your servant after accepting a job where I met one of the most powerful vampires I have ever seen."
She paused.
"Your father."
Her tone did not sound resentful.
Not exactly.
Xalier had beaten her until her body nearly split in two, forced a soul-binding oath, and turned her into his son's servant.
But somehow, she did not seem to hold deep hatred toward him.
Maybe because she had attacked first.
Maybe because he had spared her.
Maybe because, in her world, strength deciding fate was simply normal.
"This is it."
Antanasia looked at Temorsth.
"Now you know who I am. Did it change anything?"
"Yes."
*Hah...*
A short laugh escaped her.
"And what exactly changed?"
She sounded intrigued.
Almost amused.
Temorsth stood from his chair.
Antanasia's eyes followed him carefully.
He walked in front of her, then stopped.
For a moment, he looked like a child trying to decide what words were heavy enough.
Then he spoke.
"Now I like you."
"...!?"
Antanasia froze.
The words were too light.
Too direct.
Too strange.
Temorsth continued before she could misunderstand them.
"Not because of the oath."
His small hand reached out and touched the back of her clenched fist.
Not her face.
Not her throat.
Not the chain in her soul.
Only her hand.
"You are mine now."
Antanasia's eyes widened.
"And that means I will not let others hurt what is mine."
The words were possessive.
Arrogant.
Almost childish.
But the feeling behind them was not dirty.
Not greedy.
Not cruel.
It was protection.
The strange, fierce protection of a child who had decided something belonged within his small world and therefore should not be taken away.
Antanasia's red eyes glowed faintly.
Temorsth looked up at her.
"And don't be afraid for your sister. Dad will bring her to safety tomorrow."
"Ugh..."
Antanasia recovered and turned her face away.
"That is one of the things I am afraid of."
Temorsth tilted his head and lowered his hand.
"Hm?"
Antanasia glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"Do you know your father's second most famous Title?"
"I don't. Tell me."
She studied his reaction for a moment, then said, "The Merciless Executioner."
Temorsth stared.
"What?"
Antanasia almost smiled.
"The Merciless Executioner."
"I don't think my father is that dark of a murderer."
"Oh, no, no. Don't misunderstand."
Antanasia quickly raised one hand.
"I am not saying he kills everyone for fun. It is about sin and broken law. It is not always death."
"Ah."
Temorsth nodded.
"That makes more sense."
"If someone voluntarily breaks the law, it does not matter if they are a clan elder, a noble, a mother, a soldier, or even a child. If the crime is the same, the punishment is the same."
Temorsth became quiet.
Antanasia continued.
"No one escapes because of age, family, bloodline, connections, or power. If the law says they lose a hand, they lose a hand. If the law says death..."
She made a small cutting motion near her throat.
"They die."
"So that is why people fear him."
"Yes. But many love him too."
Antanasia leaned back.
"A lot of lower and mud blood vampires love him because he is not afraid to behead clan elders.
Nobles hate that. Old monsters hate that. But common people? Many of them feel safer knowing even the powerful cannot escape him forever."
Temorsth looked down.
Merciless Executioner.
Blood Red Flash.
Vampire King.
Father.
All of those names belonged to the same person.
"Can you tell me more?"
Antanasia raised an eyebrow.
"About your father?"
"About him. About vampires. About the world. Everything."
"You don't know much?"
"My parents did not teach me a lot about the outside."
Antanasia frowned slightly.
"Why?"
Temorsth looked toward the window.
"Because they were trying to keep me safe."
For a moment, Antanasia said nothing.
Then she sighed.
"Alright. I have nothing else to do anyway."
Temorsth's eyes brightened.
"Great."
So the conversation continued.
Antanasia spoke of cities hidden beneath black mountains, of blood markets that pretended not to be slave markets, of clan halls where ancient vampires slept behind curtains of red silk, of mercenaries who sold their swords to families they despised, and of remote eastern islands where sword schools still worshiped old blades like saints.
She explained some of the vampire laws Xalier enforced.
She mentioned the eleven main families.
The Dalca family.
The Lear family.
The old Patriarchs.
The previous king.
She spoke of magic too.
Blood magic.
Curses.
Travel routes.
Regions where the sky never brightened properly.
Places she had visited.
Places she had fled from.
Temorsth listened to all of it.
Sometimes he asked questions.
Sometimes Aidana quietly explained terms he did not understand.
Sometimes Antanasia looked at him strangely because his ignorance was too large for someone born to two monsters like Xalier and Elah.
Eventually, the conversation shifted back to him.
"You can't use blood magic!?" She sounded incredulous.
"Yeah, but don't worry," Temorsth said. "Dad said I can use blood magic if I force it to activate. After a few successful activations, it should become permanently functional."
Antanasia blinked.
"Then you only need time because of the opposition between your nature energy and blood magic, right?"
Temorsth nodded.
"Something like that."
Antanasia looked at him for a few seconds.
Then her eyes moved to the Heart Wood Spear beside his chair.
"Wait."
"Hm?"
"If I remember correctly, you used a spear during training, right?"
"Yes."
"But why?"
Temorsth tilted his head.
"What do you mean?"
"Your father is a swordsman and a very good fire and blood mage. Your mother is an Elementalist with almost every elemental magic, and I heard she is insane with bows, too."
Antanasia pointed toward the spear.
"Neither of them uses a spear. So why are you using one?"
"Oh."
Temorsth looked at the weapon.
"I seem to be talented with spears."
"How talented?"
"Hm?"
"What is your current proficiency with it?"
Temorsth thought for a moment, then opened his System.
A window appeared before his eyes.
"Ah... wait."
His expression shifted slightly.
"It says Beginner Level."
Antanasia blinked.
"That is good for your age."
Then she frowned.
"How long have you been training with spears?"
Temorsth thought about it.
"Maybe... a day?"
Antanasia's expression froze.
"What?"
"I held a spear for the first time about a day ago, to be precise, it is kind of today."
"What?"
"First, I tried using a short spear. I acquired Javelin Mastery. Then I tried a normal spear and acquired Spear Mastery."
Antanasia stared at him.
Then slowly raised one hand.
"Wait."
Her voice became careful.
"What did you say?"
"Hm?"
"You said you acquired Javelin Mastery and Spear Mastery."
"Yes."
"You mean the skills?"
"Yes."
"And they are Beginner Level now?"
"The Immortal Rank version is Beginner Level, yes."
Antanasia went silent.
Temorsth continued naturally.
"When I got them, I mastered them at the Mortal Rank immediately, so they evolved."
"..."
Antanasia's face slowly changed. "No."
Temorsth blinked. "No?"
"No, no, no. You are lying."
"Why would I lie?"
"Because that is absurd."
"Is it?"
"Yes!"
Temorsth looked genuinely confused.
Antanasia leaned forward. "You said Beginner Level."
"Yes."
"And yesterday, you had nothing?"
"Yes."
"And then you mastered the Mortal Rank version immediately?"
"Yes."
"And then your skill evolved to Immortal Rank?"
"Yes."
"And now it has already grown?"
"It went up while training with Mom."
Antanasia stared at him.
"Two levels? From Conceptualization and Basic to Beginner?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
Antanasia slowly leaned back.
Her thoughts began to connect.
'No. If someone is that talented, then a Demigod, an Exarch, or at least some weapon god should have noticed...'
Then her eyes widened.
'Wait.'
The job.
The object.
The thing that fell from the sky.
She looked at the spear.
Then at Temorsth.
"No... is that what fell...?"
Temorsth followed her gaze.
"Oh. If you mean that, my spear fell from the sky, yes."
Antanasia's mouth went dry.
"I got it from a Great God of Spear or something."
For a few seconds, Antanasia said nothing.
Surprise came first.
Then something sadder.
Her voice became weak.
"Life is cruel."
Temorsth frowned.
"Why?"
Antanasia looked at him.
"Someone so talented is destined to die."
The room became quiet.
Temorsth stared at her.
"How do you know?"
Antanasia's eyes moved over his body.
Not his skin.
Not the surface.
Something deeper.
"There are more than a thousand cracks in your body."
Temorsth raised both hands and looked at them.
"Um... I don't see any."
"They are not on your physical body."
Antanasia's voice became serious.
"They are in your spiritual body. Your energy body. Soul shell. All of them."
"Oh."
Temorsth lowered his hands.
"There is a spiritual body."
'Is it the one I was in while reincarnating?'
Antanasia stared at him.
"...You didn't know?"
"There are still many things to learn."
"Why are you saying that like this is interesting?"
"Because it is."
"Your body is cracking apart."
"Yes."
"And you are interested in the terminology?"
Temorsth thought about it.
"Also yes."
Antanasia's expression became strange.
"Why are you so nonchalant about it?"
"Hm?"
"Don't you care about your life?"
"I do."
"Then why don't you care about these cracks?"
Temorsth looked down at his hands again.
Then answered simply.
"If I get strong enough, they will go away, right?"
Antanasia opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
"Some... maybe."
"Then I just have to get much stronger."
The answer came without hesitation.
Without despair.
Without fear.
Like death was not a wall.
Only a difficult problem.
Antanasia stared at him.
'Is he crazy...?'
Her issue was not with the logic itself.
In some insane way, the method made sense.
Grow strong enough.
Repair what was broken.
Survive.
But his attitude was wrong.
No sane person spoke about their own death like that.
Not with such calm.
Not with such certainty.
Temorsth noticed her gaze.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Antanasia leaned back in her chair.
'This child...'
She looked at the divine gift of a spear beside him.
The oath chain in her being.
The hidden Small World.
The vampire king and Elven Queen just outside this room.
The cracks running through the boy.
And the absurd calm in his eyes.
'What the hell did I become a servant to?'
Temorsth only tilted his head, waiting for her to continue.
Antanasia sighed.
"...Troublesome."
But the word no longer sounded entirely negative.