Chapter 88: A Taste of Blood
Chapter 88: A Taste of Blood
Silence lingered between them.
High above the forest floor, two figures sat upon neighboring branches of an ancient tree while the distant sounds of battle echoed far below.
Lenore quietly gazed at Andras.
Andras returned her gaze with the same calm, unreadable expression he always wore.
A gentle breeze stirred the leaves overhead, carrying with it the lingering aroma of pipe smoke and aged rum.
After a long moment, the corner of his lips curled upward.
"So..."
"You only want my blood."
Lenore blinked.
A flush instantly spread across her pale cheeks, and the tips of her ears turned crimson.
"W-Well..."
"It’s not exactly like that..."
She fidgeted awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.
"I was only curious..."
"And besides..."
Her voice grew quieter.
"...it isn’t something I can normally experience."
Andras rested a hand beneath his chin, seemingly giving the matter far more thought than it deserved.
"I suppose..."
"...I’m rather intoxicated at the moment."
His eyes drifted toward the empty bottle of aged rum resting beside him before returning to her.
"If what you said is true..."
"...you’re welcome to have a little."
Lenore froze.
Her crimson eyes widened in disbelief.
"R-Really?"
The disappointment that had clouded her face vanished instantly, replaced by unmistakable excitement.
"You mean it?"
Andras extended his left hand toward her.
"As long as you don’t overdo it."
"I have no intention of collapsing from blood loss during an entrance examination."
Lenore nodded so quickly that her silver hair swayed around her shoulders.
"I’ll be careful!"
She hesitated for only a heartbeat before gently accepting his wrist.
Contrary to the terrifying image most people associated with vampires, her touch was surprisingly delicate.
Almost cautious.
As though she were afraid of hurting him.
She carefully lifted his hand.
Then, after one last hesitant glance at his face, she leaned forward.
Her small fangs lightly pierced his skin.
A faint sting spread across Andras’s wrist.
Warm blood slowly welled from the tiny wounds.
Lenore closed her eyes.
The very first drop touched her tongue.
A delicate shiver ran through her body.
A faint blush bloomed across her cheeks.
"So this..."
"...is what it feels like..."
Her whisper was barely audible.
For the first time in years...
The refined young vampire experienced the warmth of intoxication.
---
Meanwhile...
Andras remained perfectly composed.
He spoke inwardly.
System.
The familiar mechanical voice responded immediately.
[Devouring System Activated.]
Show me her status.
A translucent blue panel materialized before his eyes.
---
[Name: Lenore Noctis]
[Race: Vampire]
[Age: 18]
[Class: Mage]
[Bloodline: Lunar Sovereign Bloodline]
[Realm: Mid Fourth Circle Mage]
[Talent: Blood Moon Sovereignty (-S Rank)]
---
A faint glimmer appeared in Andras’s violet eyes.
As expected.
The future Vampire Queen.
In the original story, Lenore Noctis would one day ascend the Crimson Throne, uniting the fractured vampire clans beneath her banner.
She would become one of the most influential figures on the continent.
Her potential had always been extraordinary.
His gaze settled on a single line.
Bloodline.
Unlike humans...
Every intelligent race was born with one.
Dragons inherited the overwhelming might of their ancient ancestors.
Elves carried the blessings of nature within their veins.
Demons were born with fragments of the Abyss itself.
Vampires possessed immortal blood that granted them monstrous vitality and supernatural abilities.
Humans alone possessed no inherited bloodline.
At first glance...
It seemed unfair.
But reality was never that simple.
Humanity possessed advantages no other race could rival.
They reproduced at astonishing speed compared to dragons, elves, and vampires.
Kingdoms devastated by war could rebuild within decades, while other races required centuries to recover similar losses.
Their adaptability was equally frightening.
Humans constantly created new spells.
Developed new technologies.
Invented new methods of cultivation.
They evolved faster than any other race.
Most importantly...
Talents were not bound by bloodlines.
Anyone could awaken one.
Many scholars even theorized that because humans lacked an inherited bloodline occupying part of their potential, they possessed greater freedom to develop their Talents, often reaching heights that seemed impossible through determination, ingenuity, and relentless effort.
There was another reason humanity had risen to dominate much of the continent.
One known to almost no one.
The Goddess favored humanity.
Why?
Even in the original novel...
No answer had ever been revealed.
The mystery remained unsolved until the very end.
Andras dismissed the thought almost immediately.
It wasn’t worth dwelling on.
After all...
The Devouring System rendered such distinctions meaningless.
Bloodlines.
Talents.
Abilities.
Sooner or later...
They could all become his.
His gaze returned to Lenore.
She’ll be very useful in the future.
---
Lenore remained completely absorbed in drinking his blood.
Every passing second seemed to deepen the peaceful expression on her face.
A tiny, contented hum escaped her lips.
She looked utterly relaxed.
Almost blissful.
It was as though she had forgotten the entrance examination...
The forest...
Even the existence of anyone else.
Minutes slipped by.
At last, Andras frowned slightly.
"That’s enough."
Without warning, he gently withdrew his wrist.
Lenore instinctively reached after it before suddenly catching herself.
Her crimson eyes blinked several times.
She stared blankly at his wrist.
Then at Andras.
"...Hm?"
He examined the two tiny puncture marks before casually shaking his hand.
"I believe you’ve had enough."
"I have no desire to become the first student eliminated because a vampire decided to drain all of my blood."
Lenore didn’t answer.
She simply sat there.
Perfectly still.
Something had changed.
Her crimson eyes seemed brighter than before.
Unfocused.
A rosy blush covered both cheeks.
The alcohol carried within Andras’s blood had finally begun to affect her.
She swayed gently where she sat.
"...Lenore?"
No response.
Only silence.
Then...
Very slowly...
She lifted her head.
Her crimson eyes sparkled with a hazy brilliance.
The elegant composure she had displayed since introducing herself had completely disappeared.
A dreamy smile slowly spread across her face.
When she finally spoke...
Her voice sounded entirely different.
Soft.
Sweet.
Almost intoxicating.
"...More."
She leaned toward him ever so slightly.
"Please..."
"...just a little more."
Her gaze never left the tiny puncture marks on his wrist.
"I want more..."
Andras regarded her in silence.
The transformation was...
Remarkable.
Only moments ago, she had carried herself with the dignity expected of a noble vampire.
Now...
She looked like someone whose thoughts had melted into a pleasant haze.
He glanced at the empty bottle of rum resting beside him.
Then back at Lenore.
"..."
For the first time since meeting her...
He began to suspect that allowing a vampire to drink the blood of someone who had just finished an entire bottle of exceptionally strong aged rum...
...might not have been his wisest decision.
Unfortunately...
The realization came a little too late.
Before he could say another word...
Lenore quietly shuffled closer along the branch.
Her dark wings twitched faintly behind her.
She looked up at him with bright, unfocused crimson eyes.
There wasn’t the slightest trace of calculation in them anymore.
Only innocent longing.
"...Just one more sip?"
She smiled—a smile so pure that it almost made her request sound reasonable.
"I promise..."
"...only one."
Andras looked at her for a long moment.
Then he let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
"...Somehow..."
"I don’t believe that promise anymore."
Lenore simply blinked at him.
Then, with the sincerity of someone who truly believed every word she said, she nodded enthusiastically.
"I really mean it."
"...Probably."
Another silence settled between them.
Above, the ancient branches swayed gently in the evening breeze.
Far below...
The merciless entrance examination raged on.
Yet high among the towering trees...
One future Vampire Queen had become thoroughly drunk from a single student’s blood—
And Andras Darkmoor found himself dealing with a situation he had never encountered in either of his two lifetimes.