Apparently, the intruder hadn't put on his parachute properly. The blinking light was still approaching when a heavy impact sounded ahead of it.

THUD

Something like blood splashed from a few paces away and landed on my foot.

Neither the vampire nor I was worried, though. If he was what I thought he was, an injury like this hardly counted as an injury at all.

He was a vampire. An immortal being who might not be able to gather up spilled water, but could reclaim every drop of spilled blood.

A cracked skull and a little bleeding would be reversed in no time, and then he would get up... Or so I thought as I waited.

"Huh? Why isn't he getting up? He's not coming to."

"Ah. It slipped my mind for a moment."

The vampire waved her hand. The blood creeping toward her surged back into the intruder instead.

The disparity in their control over blood was so vast that her pull on it overpowered even his survival instinct. While she was at it, she pushed all the blood back inside him and sealed his wounds as well.

With his blood restored, the intruder regained consciousness. And then...

"This pull upon my blood! It can only be...!"

The intruder raised his head with a loud cry. Beyond the darkness, a red light flashed, though it was slightly duller than the vampire's.

Joy, reverence, worship, ecstasy.

Intense emotions surged in waves. Eyes wide, the intruder rushed over so low to the ground that he was practically crawling, then prostrated himself before her.

"O Progenitor!"

The vampire showed not the slightest agitation, as though strangers approaching and abruptly falling to their knees were a familiar occurrence. As she gazed steadily at him, the intruder pleaded.

"O Progenitor! I, the unworthy Finlay, have come to seek an audience with you. Please forgive me for disturbing your seclusion!"

He struck his head against the ground.

THUD

Blood flowing from the torn skin headed toward the vampire, only to return to its owner as though startled when she cast it a brief glance.

With cold eyes, she commanded the prostrate intruder.

"Finlay. Tell me who you are."

Higher blood.

Greater power.

Before the Progenitor, any other vampire was truly nothing. All their control over blood originated from her.

Moving their blood, speaking, enjoying their existence—all of it took place with the Progenitor's tacit permission. With a single gesture from her, they would instantly lose all control of their own blood and become a light snack.

To vampires, then, the Progenitor was something beyond a god.

Though the Progenitor had tossed out the words casually, to the intruder receiving them, they were a royal decree—no, a divine revelation. He immediately raised his voice to answer.

"Yes. The one who made me his thrall was Count Erte, a direct descendant of His Highness Valdamir, the Crimson Duke. While gathering intelligence on the principality's orders, I received word from someone and came here with a request for you, Progenitor."

Valdamir, the Crimson Duke.

Sovereign of the Principality of Mist, and the only vampire whose identity and whereabouts were both known. The Holy See's archenemy. And the noblest Elder.

He was such a towering figure that his very name was synonymous with vampires, and yet...

"Valdamir. That child. It has been a long time since I heard that name."

Having repeated the name of such a being as though speaking of a little child, the Progenitor gazed into the distance and asked,

"Well? Is the child doing well? Is he still engrossed in playing king?"

To some, he was a king, an absolute monarch, a ruler.

But to the Progenitor, who had watched him when he was a young man full of dreams, he remained just as he had been then.

For a moment, the intruder couldn't reconcile that gulf, and stumbled over his words.

"Y-you call His Highness the Crimson Duke a child...?"

'No, the Progenitor is the one who personally made His Highness her thrall. I'm facing a legend, a myth. Pull yourself together, Finlay! I can't let her see me acting like a fool on such a glorious occasion!'

After that inward reprimand, the intruder collected himself and bowed his head again.

"Yes! He is well. The Crimson Duke, king of the principality in both name and deed, has risen to a position more remarkable than ever before!"

"He must have worked hard. The Holy See would hardly have stood idly by."

Who could dismiss the Crimson Duke's achievements as mere "hard work"? He had proclaimed that he would establish a nation entirely his own in this world, then accomplished it through a series of heroic deeds. An ordinary person saying such a thing would have been rebuked for disrespect.

But the Progenitor alone, who had endured the same war, lived through the same years, and once shared his dream, could judge him so.

Struck anew by that realization, the intruder moistened his dry lips.

'Yes. She is the supreme being. The one who created us, fulfilled our cherished wish, and will gather us together and lead us to glory! That is who I'm standing before! I cannot let this opportunity slip away!'

The intruder's Adam's apple bobbed as though he were swallowing. Though he produced no saliva, the habit lingered from his human days.

That was how tense he was—and how full of anticipation—as he opened his mouth.

"O Progenitor! These days, the Holy See is not the force it once was."

At last, the point. The reason this intruder had braved every hardship to drop down here.

Looking at the ground, he cried out loudly.

"Mysteries have been unveiled, and sanctity has lost its luster. Consumed by self-righteousness, the Holy See has made enemies on every side. Surely the Sky God has forsaken them. Or perhaps that worthless god never existed to begin with."

Hatred he hadn't managed to disguise bared its thorns.

Realizing that he had grown too emotional before the Progenitor, even if his hatred was directed elsewhere, the intruder quickly composed his expression.

"In any case, they have meddled in too many affairs on every side, and now it is time for them to face the consequences of all they have done. Naturally, it is only fitting that we nobles of the night should play a part in that reckoning. We must prepare to collect the debt of blood, to wage a bloody war, for the day to come."

"War, you say."

Thoughts flashed briefly through her mind. Sorrow, reluctance, unease, weariness.

Subdued, gloomy emotions, the exact opposite of the intruder's excitement.

Though their appearances gave no hint of it, the contrast between them was like the difference in attitudes toward war between a postwar generation and one that had lived through it.

The vampire's lips moved slightly.

"Is that what all the children want? Do they all desire war?"

For the briefest moment, the intruder wavered. Should he give an answer that, while not a lie, was colored a little by his own wishes? Or should he tell her exactly how things stood?

But the hierarchy between vampires went beyond even that of kings and sovereigns. A vampire could not resist one of higher standing. That gulf, which placed life and death in another's hands, was perhaps even wider than the one between a god and a believer.

A god had not given birth to humans, nor could a god control them. Nor could one take their lives in an instant as though switching off the power.

But the Progenitor could do all those things. She had created vampires, could move them at will, and could annihilate them with a single gesture.

In the end, the intruder bowed low and told the truth.

"N-no. The Crimson Duke and the other Elders have indicated that they must never wage war without your permission, Progenitor."

"However," the intruder added softly, a smile swelling with anticipation on his face.

"That also means that with a single word from you, we will prepare for war."

The vampire's expression hardened.

That meant their preparations for war were almost complete.

Weapons, strength, troops, resolve.

Even the enemy they would fight was ready. His words meant they would sound the war horns at once if only the Progenitor granted permission.

"Such are the times we live in. Everyone is gathering strength, readying weapons, steeling themselves, and nurturing their hatred for one another. Everything is in place—if you join us, Progenitor. We lack a single unifying center. We need you."

With those final words, the intruder bowed his head reverently and waited for her answer.

The vampire said nothing. Silence returned to the bottomless pit. Needing neither breath to live, saliva to swallow food, nor a heartbeat to circulate their blood, the two vampires stood motionless, as though nailed in place. They could have been cut out of a photograph.

Stillness settled as heavily as the darkness.

The only sound came from...

『Take active measures to stop this.』

...the golem, pushing a microphone into my ear and delivering instructions in a very quiet voice.

『It is not yet time to start a war. The Progenitor must not rise yet. I am requesting your assistance. Take active measures to stop this.』

Not yet. Yet, huh? Quite an interesting choice of words.

More importantly, I was supposed to interrupt a conversation between two vampires? Wasn't that asking a bit much of an ordinary laborer?

I'd intended to refuse unless I had no choice, but somehow, the way things were going right now wasn't bad.

"All right. That's enough."

I strode forward.