"Aaaaah... I think I drank way too much... My stomach hurts..." Camila grumbled.
She trudged along the forest path, clutching her stomach like someone who had eaten too much candy.
"Ow! It hurts... it hurts..."
Lars shot her an annoyed glare.
"Stop whining, Camila. You’re getting annoying."
"T-Telling me to stop isn’t going to make my stomachache go away..."
"Then let this be a lesson for next time. Seriously, what were you thinking? You’ve only been a vampire for a century. How did you expect to drink all the blood in a grown man’s body?"
"I-It’s not my fault... That guy’s blood was so delicious... Ow! It’s like eating fries... you keep telling yourself this one will be the last, and before you know it, the whole bag is gone..."
Lars let out a long, dejected sigh.
"Ahhh... you really are hopeless..."
Behind them, Ingrid walked with her head lowered and a somber look on her face.
Lars’s scolding about not giving their victims time to scream had gone in one ear and out the other with Camila.
Ingrid, on the other hand, seemed to have taken it deeply to heart.
She knew she had disappointed Lars, and that certainly didn’t put her in the mood to tease Camila the way she normally would in a situation like this.
She simply followed them in silence, almost trying to walk without making a sound.
"C-Come on, Mommy, wipe that long face off. Nothing happened!" Camila said between complaints.
Ingrid didn’t even lift her head.
"For once, Camila is right. All those years of experience made you overconfident and careless. Just be more careful next time."
"Forgive me, Master..."
"That’s the fifth time you’ve apologized. That’s enough."
"Maybe for you, but not for me. Making a mistake like that when, out of all of us, I’m the one who has been by your side the longest is truly unforgivable. It will never happen again, I promise. Forgive me."
"...and that makes six."
"Wait a second... Mommy Ingrid, are you really the one who’s been married to big bro the longest?!"
Camila looked genuinely shocked.
What shocked Lars, on the other hand, was that she was only finding this out now.
Ingrid answered her.
"When he turned me, he didn’t have any other wives, so yes, I’m his first."
She said it with her chin raised and her chest puffed out proudly.
"How is that possible...? You were turned four centuries ago. Compared to big bro’s lifespan, that’s basically a fart’s worth of time. Who the hell was he fooling around with before that...?"
Ingrid fell silent at the question. It wasn’t as though she had never wondered about it herself, but she had known Lars long enough to understand that certain private matters were best left alone unless he chose to bring them up himself.
Camila hooked her arm around Lars’s and gave him a mischievous look.
"...so, big bro, was Mommy Ingrid the one who introduced you to the pleasures of pussy, huh?"
Normally, Lars would have sternly reprimanded her for using such vulgar language, which, in his opinion, was unbecoming of one of his wives.
Instead, the faint smile already lingering on his lips vanished completely. Then a single, clipped syllable left his mouth.
"No."
Complete silence.
Ingrid and Camila exchanged a brief, confused glance. Ingrid slowly shook her head, just as clueless about what Lars meant.
He was the one who broke the short but heavy silence.
"Her name was Lysandra. She was my first and only wife before Ingrid."
"Master, why are you talking about her in the past tense? Don’t tell me that...?"
Ingrid covered her mouth as she asked.
Lars noticed, but answered calmly, in the same even tone as someone who felt no discomfort or reluctance in discussing the subject.
"You were about to ask if she’s dead, weren’t you? I don’t know. I simply woke up from my century-long sleep one day, and she was gone."
For a moment, the cold apathy in his voice seemed to give way to the faintest trace of melancholy.
"I spent that entire time awake searching every corner of the world for her. It was all pointless. That happened a century before I made you my wife."
"I see..." Ingrid murmured. "If you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell me a little about her."
"She was a priestess of Athena before I turned her, and she stayed by my side for nearly two thousand years."
"Woooow! Two thousand years is seriously a long tim— ow, my stomach!"
"Indeed. A vampire’s strength continues to grow as the centuries pass. After two thousand years, Lysandra had become so powerful that only a handful of Demons could have posed any real threat to her. That’s why I searched for her for so long, and why even now I find it hard to believe she’s truly dead."
"Do you think she might have abandoned you?" Ingrid asked cautiously.
"Frankly, I don’t know what to think."
All of a sudden, Lars stopped.
"W-What is it, big bro? Did you see something?"
Camila didn’t even have time to finish the question before a figure emerged from the trees ahead of them, blocking the path.
"W-What the hell is that hideous thing?" Camila asked in horror.
Between her stomachache and the sight of the creature standing in front of them, she was almost on the verge of throwing up.
It was a tall, sturdy humanoid creature.
Its grayish, leathery skin showed beneath a long black coat hanging open at the front. Its face was deformed, and its mouth was lined with long, sharp teeth.
It wore a black cowboy hat, and in its wrinkled fingers it gripped a short-handled axe.
"The Creeper Demon."
Lars then cast a glance back over Ingrid’s shoulder from the corner of his eye.
"...and it’s not alone."
Ingrid spun around.
Blocking the other end of the path was a rider mounted on a black horse whose eyes glowed with a sinister yellow light.
Despite its size, the animal’s hooves made no sound as they struck the ground.
Its rider was a headless horseman clad in heavy black armor, with a cloak of the same color fluttering behind him.
One hand held the reins.
In the other, he carried a large jack-o’-lantern glowing from within with the same eerie yellow light as the horse’s eyes.
Lars recognized him at once as well.
The Headless Demon.
"Ingrid, Camila, stay close to me. I’ll deal with them in no time."
Lars was about to make his move, but Ingrid stopped him.
"No, Master," she said firmly.
Lars gave her a questioning look, but didn’t interrupt, and she continued.
"Let us handle this. We disappointed you, and this is our way of asking for your forgiveness and, more importantly, proving that we’re worthy of being your brides..."
...and that makes seven.
"...right, Camila?"
"Y-You bet, Mommy— ow, my stomach!"
Lars gave Camila a puzzled look.
"Are you sure you can fight in that condition...?"
"T-Two nobodies like these? I could beat them to a pulp even if I were stuck on the toilet with diarrhea!"
Lars nodded.
"All right. Then finish them off."