Decades, even a century, had changed Kazdel quite a bit.
Under the leadership of Demon King Theresia and General Theresis, current Kazdel wasn’t exactly thriving, but you could at least say it had a promising future.
This was the most direct assessment Lucifer had after staying in Kazdel for a whole century.
“It’s already been a hundred years…
I feel like my sense of time has gone native too.”
Flipping through a worn-out calendar, Lucifer lamented how his moral compass and perception of time had already been twisted into the shape of a Vampire’s.
Sarkaz who weren’t infected with Oripathy lived incredibly long lives, to say nothing of Vampires who had received the blessing of the Sanguinarch.
A hundred years might seem long, but in reality, it wasn’t short at all.
So much had changed over the last century: the sudden departure of the two Royal Courts of Kazdel, the Liches and the Wendigos, and the collapse of the Gaulish Empire.
Leaving the former aside for now, the fall of Gaul had made Lucifer ecstatic.
He had popped open a bottle of champagne with the Sanguinarch to celebrate.
After all, Lucifer still held a grudge over the fact that the moment he woke up in this world, a Gaulish imperial guard had stabbed him right in the kidney.
“Whatever.
Let’s see what blood we’re having today…”
Tossing the calendar aside, Lucifer, who had reached his blood-feeding phase, walked over to a fully stocked cabinet to pick out some blood-wine.
There was no shortage of Kuranta, Forte, Elaphia, Lupo, and Wyvern blood.
Most were gifts from the Sanguinarch and other Vampire Princes—all top-shelf quality.
Occasionally, he would go out and hunt for some “stock” himself.
Lucifer finally settled on a bottle of blood-wine labeled “Elaphia,” a trophy he had personally brought back not too long ago.
The owner of this blood-wine had been a living, breathing person just two weeks ago, yet Lucifer didn’t feel much of anything about it.
“Sigh, I’m just too soft-hearted.
I hate seeing people suffer…”
When dealing with the bottle’s former owner two weeks ago, Lucifer had originally planned to trade some normal food for his blood.
But the moment the guy saw he was a Vampire, he struck first—effectively signing his own death warrant.
At least, given the circumstances, Lucifer felt zero guilt about how it turned out.
Perhaps a century was enough to warp a person’s core and original intentions…
Or maybe it had happened even earlier—back when Lucifer’s kidney was shredded, half his head blown to bits, and he had to regenerate the whole thing.
He had ceased being human long ago.
Creak…
The worn wooden door was gently pushed open, and half a head poked inside to cautiously scan the room.
“Um…
the Sanguinarch isn’t here, is he?”
Seeing only Lucifer in the room, Warfarin tiptoed inside.
Ever since the Sanguinarch caught her red-handed last time, Warfarin had been too terrified to visit Lucifer’s place for years.
Every time she came, she had to carefully scan the area to make sure the Sanguinarch wasn’t around.
“Wrong.
He’s to your left.”
“Huh?!”
The cowardly Vampire let out a pathetic squeak, frantically looking around before realizing the Sanguinarch was nowhere to be found.
When she turned back, she saw only Lucifer grinning like a maniac at his successful prank.
Warfarin was furious!
In terms of age, Warfarin was actually slightly older than Lucifer.
By provoking her, Lucifer had really kicked a pile of soft cotton—she was completely harmless.
“You…
sniff sniff…
Elaphia blood?
Smells good.”
About to launch a furious retaliation, Warfarin suddenly caught a whiff of blood in the air.
Its purity was incredibly high.
She scurried over to Lucifer, pointing at her slightly parted lips, gesturing for a share.
Under Warfarin’s expectant gaze, Lucifer reached out and shoved his finger right into her mouth.
“Mmph?!”
Warfarin’s eyes widened as Lucifer pinched her tongue with his fingers and pulled it outward.
After Warfarin whined and struggled for a while, Lucifer finally let go, releasing her tongue.
“You’ve got such a big appetite, so why don’t you go pick a fight with the Sanguinarch?
Who knows, maybe you’ll become the next leader of the Vampire Court.”
“This is murder!”
How could Warfarin not know the Sanguinarch’s brutal nature?
If she did that to him, having her tongue ripped out would be considered showing mercy.
“Hmph, if I tell the other Princes what you just said…”
“Shut it.
A servant doesn’t interrupt a Prince.”
“I’m not your—”
Before she could finish, Lucifer wiped his mouth, grabbed a bottle of blood-wine marked “Wyvern” from the cabinet, and tossed it to her.
Even to the naked eye, the purity of this Wyvern blood-wine was remarkably high.
It was a rare vintage, even among a Vampire Prince’s collection.
“You know, Lucifer, I’ve always been your loyal servant.”
Warfarin flipped her attitude so fast that even Lucifer couldn’t react, instantly transforming into his most loyal subordinate.
Although she could suppress her bloodlust to some extent like Lucifer did, she still needed to drink blood to maintain her sanity and nutritional balance.
Certain premium blood types still held an immense attraction for her.
It was just like how a human wouldn’t say no to an ice-cold iced tea or a Coke.
Pop.
Warfarin pried open the cork.
Just the faint aroma wafting from the bottle made her feel slightly intoxicated.
“Ah…
pure bliss!”
Taking a small sip, Warfarin felt a rush of pleasure so intense she looked ready to transcend on the spot.
Lucifer looked at her and couldn’t help but think that no noble would spend a single penny to hire such a pathetic Vampire as a servant.
With that, Lucifer downed his own glass of blood-wine.
Lucifer had strict, self-imposed limits on his blood consumption.
Rather than sharing a portion of his own bottle with Warfarin, it was better to give her a new one.
He wasn’t stingy like the other Vampires, and this way, Warfarin would owe him a favor.
A classic win-win.
“Sigh…
smooth.”
Lucifer dramatically exhaled a breath, acting as if he were drinking some divine nectar.
Though to Vampires, the blood of certain races really wasn’t any different from fine wine.
He had heard the Sanguinarch even collected Draco and Aslan blood.
Now that would have a real kick.
Knock, knock…
Suddenly, a knock at the door broke the peace.
“Wh-what…
Is the Sanguinarch here?!”
Warfarin instinctively ducked behind Lucifer, quickly hiding her unfinished bottle of Wyvern blood-wine.
Lucifer, on the other hand, stared at the old wooden door with interest.
Usually, nobody except Warfarin would willingly visit Lucifer, and the presence outside definitely didn’t belong to the Sanguinarch.
He never knocked.
“Come in.”
Upon hearing the owner’s permission, the guest outside gently pushed open the ancient door.
A wizard hat squeezed through first.
Beneath the oversized hat stood a blue-haired Sarkaz girl.
“Hello…
I am Ermengarde, the envoy of the Liches.
I’m a bit lost, could you please help me?”
The young Lich said to the Vampire Prince.