Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

”A reasonable explanation?” The Count tilted his head slightly. ”I’m about to hand my entire domain over to you, Miss Sylvia. What more explanation could you want?”

”If your wife and daughter were truly gone, of course, no explanation would be needed,” Ron said, looking at the Count. ”But as everyone can see, your daughter is still here. The reason you gave before—wanting to reunite with your family—doesn’t hold up. So why do you insist on continuing this ritual?”

The Count looked at the creature he called Mary, as if looking at an animal rather than his own daughter. ”What do you mean it doesn’t hold up? Can’t you see? My Mary will never return to me. The thing squatting here is just her lingering husk. Do you really think a walking corpse could manage my domain in my place?”

The Vampire’s face twisted into a mocking smile. ”Of course, what does the ensuing chaos after I’m gone have to do with me? But you are my neighbor on the other side of the mountain. Do you really want to see my people turn into fiends that only know how to wander around and attack the living?”

”Come now, Miss Sylvia. The ritual must continue. For you, for me, and for your benefactor...”

Silvia looked at Ron, conflicted. But her benefactor’s attention was currently fixed entirely on the madwoman squatting on the ground. The Vampire Mage hesitated for a long moment before finally taking a step forward.

”Yes, just like that. Follow the steps we rehearsed...”

The Vampire Count watched with satisfaction as Silvia let a drop of blood fall into the bowl. He then beckoned with his hand, and the daughter who, in his memory, had been mad for several hundred years, crawled over as obediently as a pet and drank the blood from the jade bowl in one gulp.

”This is a necessary step,” the Count explained. ”You are not a true Vampire. Transferring my bloodline to you directly would only harm you. Though Mary died long ago, her body remains, and the power of her bloodline also lingers within this empty shell.”

”Using her body as a medium will allow you to smoothly become my scion in the magical sense, rather than a wretched Derivative.”

”The time is near,” the Count said, looking up at the full moon. Under the influence of his Blood Magic, the pure moonlight was being shrouded in a bloody haze. ”Mary, return your bloodline!”

”After tonight, your soul and body will find rest together! You will return to your mother’s embrace, to an eternal, dark, and peaceful slumber! You—”

”Why aren’t you moving?”

The Vampire Count froze for a second. He was certain there was no flaw in his training. After several hundred years of repeated conditioning, the body that once belonged to his daughter had long since become a living, breathing piece of Casting Material. It was absolutely impossible for it to hesitate at his command!

But tonight, of all nights, at this most critical moment! His command had actually failed?!

”Tsk. Good thing I have a backup plan.” Count Richthofen’s face darkened. Although this was a variable he had not wanted, how could he not have a contingency? Thousands of crimson threads erupted from his palm. Using their shared bloodline as a conduit, they connected to every joint and muscle on Mary. Under his control, the body was pulled to its feet like a marionette, swaying unsteadily as it moved toward its designated spot in the Array.

”No wonder my benefactor said this part of the Array seemed redundant,” Silvia murmured, looking at the spot the Count had indicated. ”You didn’t tell me there was this step.”

”I wasn’t sure if this step would be necessary before,” the Count said, giving Silvia a reassuring look. ”Don’t worry, nothing will go wrong. You’re about to become my daughter. How could I possibly—”

The Count’s words were cut short again as Mary came to a halt. The body ignored the Count’s Magic, suddenly stopping in place, refusing to move another inch no matter how the Count tried to control it.

”My Magic uses bloodline as a medium. How can she possibly resist it?!”

”Actually, it is possible,” Ron said suddenly, his gaze having been fixed on Mary the whole time, while the Count was still awkwardly trying to regain control. ”Lord Count, there have always been two people closest to you. And the bloodline of one of them has no relation to yours whatsoever.”

”Two... you mean my wife, Hecate?!” The Count was stunned for a moment, then a vicious light erupted from his blood-red eyes as he glared at Ron. ”What do you know?! What have you done!”

”I haven’t done anything,” Ron said. As the surrounding Undead began to grow restless, the Weaving Introduction hovered in front of him, its pages flipping. His companions also drew their weapons and stood by his side. ”You should be asking what *you* have done.”

”I... I didn’t mean to!” The Count’s expression shifted repeatedly. ”Hecate, that witch! She coveted the power that should have been mine and even tried to kill me! I just struck first!”

The Vampire roared, ”Mary, my beloved daughter! She actually sided with her mother, blocking my sword just as I was about to kill that witch! She died just like that! Died in the conflict between her parents, and it’s all the fault of that cursed witch!”

Ron didn’t need to guide him any further. Centuries of guilt had made Count Richthofen’s mind too fragile to withstand any scrutiny. In the heat of his own frantic self-justification, he didn’t even notice that the body supposedly under his control had raised its own hand. With a swipe of long fingernails, the crimson threads snapped, and the Count’s connection to his daughter’s body was completely severed.

”My fault?” A voice, familiar to Ron and his companions, but even more familiar to the Count, came from the madwoman’s lips. She turned around, her eyes clear and bright. ”Blame your own gilded bloodline! You’ve been blinded by power, even to this day!”

”Hecate?!” The Count stumbled back several steps in horror, staring at his ”daughter” in disbelief. ”No, it’s impossible! How can you still be alive!”

”Is it so strange? That I wasn’t completely killed by that soul-devouring Magic Sword of yours?” The witch sneered, advancing on her husband. ”Did you forget? That sword pierced a mother and a daughter at the same time. It pierced two people!”

”I only just regained some clarity these past few days and finally figured out how it happened: Our daughter did it.”

”Mary?”

”She was not only a member of the Richthofen Clan, but also a witch,” Hecate said, her voice full of sorrow, wearing her daughter’s face. ”You damn murderer! Mary didn’t have to die! She offered her own soul to that sword and drew me, who had lost my body, into her own shell!”

”This is all because of you! If you hadn’t insisted on consorting with that damned Witch Demon, why would Mary have— I would rather you had killed me completely!”

The witch suddenly stopped, her tone turning grim. ”But it’s too late for all that—Kapen von Richthofen, my husband, it is time to face the fate you’ve evaded for centuries!”