It was common knowledge that the Sarkaz of Kazdel had not yet fully recovered from the scars of the war.
The Banshees had suffered the heaviest losses, a tragedy even the Sanguinarch expressed regret over.
Yet, the era of the Six Heroes of Kazdel wasn’t entirely defined by scars; at the very least, the Nachzehrer tribe had grown slightly stronger.
As a clan born of conflict, the strength of the Nachzehrers was intrinsically tied to war and death.
By consuming their fallen kin and the life force of others, they had entered a brief period of dominance.
Even if it wasn’t their intention.
“Hey, old man, you want a drink?
It’s a Victorian red wine highly recommended by the Sanguinarch.
Very smooth.”
“…”
Nezzsalem, the decayed god of war in Kazdel and the Nachzehrer King—one of the Six Heroes of Kazdel—stared at the Vampire before him with mixed emotions.
Thanks to the Sanguinarch’s disastrous social efforts, the Nachzehrers and Sanguines had never gotten along.
But this Vampire Prince, who had distinguished himself during the war, was an exception.
According to occasional chats with the Sanguinarch, this prince rarely associated with his fellow Sanguines.
Instead, he spent most of his time hanging out with other Royal Courts and Sarkaz.
Even so, the Nachzehrer King didn’t dislike him; in fact, he actually quite liked the kid.
“Duq’arael…
likes this kind of drink?”
The Nachzehrer King looked at the red wine in Lucifer’s hand.
It was indeed a high-end foreign import.
But knowing the Sanguinarch as he did, the Nachzehrer King knew the man would rather drink the blood of an Infected Zalak than touch this stuff.
“Absolutely.
I’d stake the Sanguinarch’s integrity on it.”
“Heheh…
It really is a pity you were born a Vampire, child.”
The Nachzehrer King chuckled.
Probably no other Vampire dared to mouth off about the integrity-lacking Sanguinarch like this.
If it weren’t for the fact that Lucifer was a Vampire, he would probably be even more popular among the other clans.
And since he was already a Vampire Prince, the Nachzehrer King had to give up his thoughts of adopting him as a new stepson.
The more he thought about it, the more it felt like everything was the Sanguinarch’s fault.
Duq’arael!
Repent!
“Hahaha, Lucifer really is single-handedly raising the reputation of the Sanguines, isn’t he?”
A soft, natural female voice drifted into the room.
It belonged to a young and elegant Banshee.
She was the third person in the room—Lamyaran, the current head of the Banshee Court and also one of the Six Heroes.
But strictly speaking, Lucifer was the intruder.
This valley was the territory of the Banshees, and Lucifer had simply dropped by for a visit, coincidentally bumping into the Nachzehrer King who had also come to visit.
“Lamyaran, how is the situation with the Banshees now?”
The Nachzehrer King looked up at the seated Lamyaran.
As a senior elder of the Sarkaz and Lamyaran’s teacher, he cared deeply about the Banshees’ well-being.
At the mention of this, Lamyaran’s cheerful expression instantly dimmed.
“The Banshees were severely devastated in that battle…
I’m afraid it will take another century just to barely recover.”
“Rest well.
With Theresa and Theresis around, the next war won’t be coming anytime soon.”
Although the Nachzehrers relied on war to thrive, Nezzsalem had never loved it, having witnessed countless conflicts tear away his brothers and sisters.
If Theresa and Theresis hadn’t carried the war so hard, even his student Lamyaran might have fallen.
“Come to think of it, Lucifer also put in quite a bit of effort back then.”
Her gaze, hidden behind a veil, drifted toward Lucifer on the other side of the room.
From what she knew, Lucifer had been incredibly active in that war.
Had she not seen it with her own eyes, she would have thought another Sanguinarch had emerged.
“Indeed.
Lucifer created an opening in the great war, allowing Theresis to get close to the enemy Feline general.”
The Nachzehrer King’s praise for Lucifer was unmistakable in his tone.
While it couldn’t compare to the achievements of the Six Heroes, making him just a prince felt a bit too stingy.
The Nachzehrer King quietly dissed the Sanguinarch in his mind again.
“Ah, well…
I wouldn’t go that far.
I just had my blood rage fully stacked.”
Lucifer scratched his pointed ear.
Honestly, it was a bit embarrassing.
He had no idea about tactics or plans back then.
He had simply been beaten into a blood rage and went on a rabid-dog killing spree.
By the time he snapped out of it, the enemy general had already been decapitated by Theresis, and the war was declared over.
Seeing that the spotlight was turning on him, Lucifer wasn’t happy.
“I just remembered I haven’t washed the pants the Sanguinarch asked me to wash yet.
I won’t bother you.
I’m taking off first.
You two can share this bottle.”
Throwing out an excuse that even a Changeling wouldn’t believe, Lucifer set down the bottle of red wine and bid farewell to the Nachzehrer King and Lamyaran.
In the blink of an eye, only the Nachzehrer King and Lamyaran were left in the silent room.
“Sigh…
If only Lucifer were a Banshee…
or even a Goliath.
Kazdel’s hope always rests on the shoulders of the young.”
“…”
The Nachzehrer King did not respond to Lamyaran’s muttering.
The moment Lucifer left, his solemn, imposing presence returned.
The Nachzehrer King murmured in a low voice, deep in thought.
“Lucifer and Kazdel…”
“Is something wrong with that child, Lucifer?”
Sensing the slight fluctuation in the old man’s emotions, Lamyaran asked in confusion.
But the Nachzehrer King didn’t answer immediately, floating silently in place.
The atmosphere fell into a deathly hush.
Lamyaran didn’t press further, quietly waiting for his response.
“—His heart is not in Kazdel.”
“Eh?”
For a moment, Lamyaran couldn’t understand why the old Sarkaz would suddenly make such a claim.
“Why do you say that?”
“…Just intuition.”
The Nachzehrer King had spent a fair amount of time with Lucifer.
From the boy’s words and actions, he could vaguely read where his heart lay.
Unlike the Liches who had left home halfway through, his home—his “roots”—were not in Kazdel.
As for Lucifer’s active performance in the war, it was more like a passive venting.
According to what the Sanguinarch shared, Lucifer detested trouble, especially an oversized headache like a war.
Regardless, the Nachzehrer King had no evidence or reason to blame someone who had genuinely contributed to Kazdel.
“Still, having him as a younger friend isn’t bad either.”
The Nachzehrer King let out another low chuckle and grabbed the red wine Lucifer had left behind.
“I’ll be taking this gift then.”
“Oh…
Oh, alright.”
Watching the Nachzehrer King depart with the wine, Lamyaran still couldn’t wrap her head around what had just happened.
“Hmm, did Teacher and Lucifer have a falling out?
Doesn’t seem like it, though…”
Lamyaran tilted her head, her mind filled with confusion.