Volume 1, Chapter 8 – Undercurrents Surging

“Welcome back, Onee-sama.”

As soon as Yisi stepped down from the carriage, Camilla—the younger sister of the Count’s eldest daughter—approached from the iron gate of the mansion. Her smooth golden hair shimmered even in the night, complementing her already beautiful appearance. For a moment, Yisi was stunned, recalling how she had reacted the same way when she first transmigrated and saw Camilla. Clearing her throat awkwardly, Yisi spoke.

“Ahem, I just had some sudden matters to attend to. It’s nothing major.”

“To be honest, I was quite startled. It’s a relief that Lady Pescia wasn’t displeased,” said Owen, the priest, stepping down from another carriage with a gentle smile. Night had already fallen, and the warm, amber light spilling from the mansion’s windows brought a sense of comfort.

The worry on Camilla’s face faded slightly. She first gave Owen a slight nod of courtesy before ordering the servants to open the iron gate.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Onee-sama. I’ll have dinner prepared immediately. Priest Owen, if you don’t mind—”

“I still have duties to attend to. Today’s events must be reported to the High Priest. Of course, I assure you that the higher-ups will not act against Lady Pescia or you, Second Lady. With that, I thank you for your hospitality and shall take my leave.”

Yisi merely nodded to acknowledge his words—this was the habit of the Count’s eldest daughter. She spared no extra concern for anyone except her father and her “pets.”

Of course, that was the idea, but in practice, Yisi couldn’t help but silently apologize to Owen. He had been lenient with her to this extent, yet she hadn’t even thanked him—it went against common decency.

Well… I’ll apologize properly later.

With a small sigh, Yisi followed Camilla into the mansion. It was a three-story building isolated from the city, complete with two gardens, front and back, a separate annex, and even a well. Generally, only nobles of viscount rank or higher had the privilege of owning such an estate.

If Yisi had to compare it to her limited worldly experience, she could only think of Earth’s elite conglomerates. Only those at the very top of society could enjoy a three-story forest villa staffed with countless servants.

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Definitely not what a captive’s life should look like.

Marveling at the luxurious decor, Yisi clicked her tongue inwardly.

Walking along the stone-paved path, surrounded by Camilla and four other maids, Yisi stepped into the mansion’s grand hall. Her eyes were met with an expansive space adorned with a red handmade carpet and amber crystal chandeliers. When she first transmigrated into this world, she had been too panicked to notice the hall’s furnishings. Now, observing them in detail, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of timidity.

It was like walking into a high-end restaurant in shabby clothes—even if the waiters and guests didn’t give her strange looks, she’d still feel out of place. Right now, it wasn’t her attire that made her self-conscious, but an inner sense of inferiority. Stepping into a noble’s mansion naturally made her apprehensive.

Noticing Yisi had stopped, Camilla, who had been half a step behind, tilted her head in confusion.

“Onee-sama, is something wrong?”

“Hm? Ah, I just remembered something. Did anything unusual happen while I was away?”

Yisi glanced at Camilla, the Count’s adopted younger sister. Unlike the silver-haired, blue-eyed, and petite Count’s daughter, Camilla had golden hair, crimson eyes, and stood a full head taller. At a glance, they bore no resemblance—in fact, Camilla wasn’t even part of the Pescia bloodline, nor was she a vampire. Before becoming a captive, the Count’s daughter had paid her little attention.

Camilla was a human foster child taken in by Count Pescia—Yisi’s father—for the sole purpose of assisting the Count’s daughter in governance.

Though the Count had repeatedly warned his daughter not to harm Camilla (i.e., treat her as a plaything for abuse), the captive life had left her starved for victims. On a whim, the Count’s daughter had broken her promise to her father. Unfortunately, Camilla neither resisted nor cried out during the abuse, quickly boring the Count’s daughter, who abandoned the torment halfway.

It was also worth noting that the Count’s daughter harbored an undisguised, twisted desire toward the stunningly beautiful Camilla—possession, defilement, destruction. Were it not for her father’s warnings, Camilla would have long been molded into a doll.

Thank goodness things didn’t go that far.

Yisi couldn’t help but feel relieved. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have known how to face such a tragically fated girl.

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Camilla shook her head.

“No. Though I don’t know how you left the mansion, the church didn’t trouble us.”

“Is that so? I merely went to the outskirts on a whim to test some magic. After absorbing the corpse of the Demon King Ouranos, I’ve fully mastered a spell capable of annihilating a city in an instant.”

“Congratulations, Onee-sama. If Father knew, he would surely recommend you for the Thirteen Knights of the Blood Clan. No—with a spell like that, even becoming the Chief Knight wouldn’t be an issue.”

Seeming genuinely happy for Yisi, Camilla’s doll-like face brightened with joy as she clasped her hands together in a prayer-like gesture.

Even after being abused by her sister, she still cares for her…?

Yisi felt a flicker of surprise. The original Count’s daughter had left behind few memories of this foster sister. Though Camilla had lived in the Pescia territory since being adopted, their actual interactions had been scarce. They only began interacting frequently after the Count’s daughter became a captive. The original host’s impression of Camilla was simply that she was obedient.

Can I let my guard down a little? Since the Count’s daughter barely remembers Camilla, that means Camilla hasn’t seen much of her either, right? Maybe I can start with Camilla to gradually change people’s perception of the Count’s daughter. She seems to admire her sister.

No matter how good an actor was, they could never truly replace the original. Thus, Yisi wanted to start with those around her, slowly altering the image of the cruel and sadistic Count’s daughter.

Of course, before that, she needed to plan her approach. There was no better test subject than her sister Camilla. If this were a novel, the kind-hearted, sister-loving Camilla would undoubtedly be the easy heroine.

“Hmph, this is just basic magic. Prepare dinner for me.”

“Understood. Would you like to use me or another servant today, Onee-sama?”

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Blinking, Yisi froze for a second before realizing what Camilla meant—the blood required by vampires for sustenance. The Count’s daughter needed blood with every meal.

Despite her inner turmoil, Yisi maintained her cold facade.

“A servant’s.”

“Understood.”

◇

A dimly lit room.

That would be anyone’s first impression upon entering.

Though the air was clean and the space not particularly cramped, an oppressive atmosphere lingered, as if dark clouds loomed overhead, foreboding an approaching storm.

The person seated at the head of the conference table let out a soft “Hm,” breaking the silence.

“Have you found any leads on His Majesty the Demon King?”

“We have. In the city of Niru.”

The response from one of the attendees eased the tension slightly—until the next sentence plunged the mood back into gloom.

“…But His Majesty’s presence has vanished. Just as Lord Cook said, the Demon King… has departed for another world.”

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BANG!

Someone slammed the table.

“Impossible! I can still sense His Majesty’s soul! If he had truly fallen, at the very least, his body would remain! Yet we’ve found nothing!”

“But His Majesty has indeed disappeared. When our men searched the site of his fall, they found nothing. There is another theory—that a noble of the Blood Clan stored his remains in a spatial spell. That noble is currently in Niru, within the Ymir Theocracy.”

“A Blood Clan noble?”

The man at the table frowned, remaining silent for a long moment before speaking.

“Regardless, we must confirm whether His Majesty still lives. First, we capture the suspect and then discuss further. This is Lord Cook’s will.”

“The vampires won’t come willingly.”

“Then we use force. There’s no need for courtesy with their kind.”

“Understood.”

Satisfied with the answer, the man at the head of the table nodded before moving on to the next topic with a grave tone.

“If it is confirmed that His Majesty has fallen…”