Clementine was startled by the rare smile that appeared on Ronovan's otherwise cold face—the same face she had been seeing for decades.Unfortunately, the smile wasn't for her.
She didn't know where he had come from, but the boy appeared suddenly, looking like a human teenager no older than fifteen. His name was Bandi.
"Who is he?" Clementine asked Rosaria.
"Hmm… B-12… ah no, Bandi, I mean. I'm not entirely sure either, but he's going to live here from now on."
"Why?" Clementine's eyes never left the boy.
"I don't know. Ronovan brought him. I don't even know from where. But yesterday morning, he arrived here together with that kid."
"Isn't he human?"
"Ah… not exactly. He smells a bit human, yes, but he's a half-vampire."
"His eyes… they're not even vampire red." Clementine kept staring at him.
"Clementine… don't worry. Whatever it is you're worried about, I can smell it all over you. Just… don't." Rosaria smiled softly.
"You're right…" Clementine muttered.
The day of the High Council seat selection arrived, and everyone anticipated Clementine's victory. Having reached the final match after decades of dedicated training, she was undoubtedly prepared.
And then it happened.
Bandi appeared again, walking beside Ronovan—a Ronovan who never came to selection matches. And yet here he was, standing before the crowd, speaking in that deep voice:
"Who's in the final match? Face Bandi."
The arena fell silent. Usually, they'd have a celebratory induction after choosing the last candidate. But Clementine, on the verge of victory, was suddenly ordered to fight a boy who'd only arrived five days ago.
"But why, Ronovan?" Lullaby's voice called out from the judges' podium.
"If Bandi wins," Ronovan replied casually, "he will immediately take the Twelfth Seat."
Why? Why are you like this, Ronovan? Why do you care about him?
Clementine's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden chill. After all these years, the culmination stood before her. The air crackled with unspoken anticipation. Wasn't this the summit of her efforts? A chance to finally thaw Ronovan's glacial gaze?
"What are you waiting for? Begin." Ronovan walked up to the judge's podium and sat down, his expression unreadable… uninterested.
The face Clementine had always wanted to change.
The fight was brutal. Clementine was already tired from the earlier rounds, while Bandi's energy was untouched. Worse, he didn't even activate Phase One, yet somehow he could predict her attacks. What irritated her most was the way he smiled while dodging.
CRASH—
Clementine unleashed her power, which was based on scent. By emitting specific aromas, she could enhance herself, becoming faster, stronger, or more resilient.
Activating Phase One, her movements became elegant, sharp, and almost mesmerizing, a display that seemed to captivate Bandi, whose eyes remained fixed on her.
TANG! TANG!
Bandi blocked each strike now, realizing with growing respect just how strong Clementine was.
A half-vampire like me probably can't win against her, he thought.
Bandi wasn't the type to continue a fight he knew he couldn't win… and yet, looking at Clementine, he wanted to prove himself. He wanted to beat her.
FWOOSH—
But in the end, Bandi fell, sitting on the ground with his sword clattering to the floor. Clementine's hand was at his throat.
"I lost…" Bandi admitted, almost as if it was a learning experience rather than a defeat.
"You're weak. And stupid. Did you think you could defeat me?" Clementine didn't deactivate her Phase One.
"You're right, I'm weak. How could I possibly beat a genius like you? I wasn't born with a strong body. Is strength really everything?"
His words made Clementine freeze for a moment.
Pathetic… I've struggled for a hundred years to reach this moment, and yet this boy smiles and calls me a genius. Has he never felt the pain of bitter defeat? Does he even know what it's like for effort to betray its own results?
The murmurs of the audience swelled, their whispers cutting into Clementine's ears.
"I hate people like you. Thinking you're right, thinking you're a victim because you were born weak. Do you think strength comes instantly?"
She stepped closer—and slashed her hand across Bandi's eye.
His scream tore through the arena as blood streamed down his face.
"I'll teach you what true defeat feels like." Her voice was ice.
CRACK! CRACK—
The sound of bones breaking echoed as she continued the assault, until Lullaby descended rapidly from the podium, grabbing Clementine's arm.
"Enough! You've already won. Stop, Clementine!"
She finally stopped, satisfaction curling in her chest. She turned toward Ronovan's seat—only to find that same cold face.
"My guess was wrong… disappointing," he said flatly.
The words struck deeper than any blade.
Without another glance, Ronovan followed the healers carrying Bandi away on a stretcher, leaving Clementine standing in the middle of the arena—victorious, but empty.
---
Despite securing a seat among the Twelve, Clementine felt no joy. her heart was hollow, her spirit dimmed, as if a vital spark had been extinguished.
She couldn't understand why. Days blurred, even as Ozrik's disapproval of her presence was clear. Yet, at every council meeting, Bandi was present, standing beside Ronovan, despite lacking an official seat. Strangely, Ozrik seemed unconcerned, and neither did anyone else.
Clementine noticed that Bandi had recovered fully. His eyes were intact; he had not lost his sight after all. When their gazes met, Bandi quickly looked away, as if afraid of her.
Time moved on, and the alliance between vampires and humans began to flourish. Plans for an official diplomatic envoy were underway, which required Ronovan to travel to the human capital.
"You will come with me," Ronovan said during one of the meetings, his voice cutting through the chamber.
Clementine blinked and pointed at herself in disbelief. "M-me?"
"Yes… what was your name again?" Ronovan asked, frowning slightly.
"Clementine…"
"Right. You'll come. Ah… you too, Bandi." Ronovan turned to his side.
He remembered Bandi's name instantly, yet forgot hers. Something in her chest twisted in a way she couldn't quite describe.
And so, the three of them departed for the capital. The journey was awkward, the silence heavy, until Bandi eventually tried to break it with small talk. Clementine, however, was lost in her own thoughts.
For the first time, she saw the world outside the nest. It was beautiful—so much so that she couldn't believe such places existed. Had she truly wasted a hundred years locked away in darkness, ignorant of it all?
"Welcome, Lord Ronovan. I am the King of this realm," the human monarch greeted them warmly. "I am pleased the vampire leader is willing to cooperate with us. Since Fenrir's death, our kind has long wished for your official arrival. My father was indebted to you for saving his life."
"Yes, yes… though I don't recall it," Ronovan replied lazily. "Regardless, I'd like you to speak with my representative."
His eyes flicked toward Bandi, who stepped forward without hesitation.
Bandi spoke with poise, his words smooth and precise. He knew much about the human world—perhaps because of his half-vampire nature. Clementine began to understand why Ronovan placed so much attention on him.
He carried himself with charisma, even adopting the refined dialect of nobility. He praised the human king with just the right balance of sincerity and diplomacy.
"In that case, we would also like to strengthen ties with the werewolf race," Bandi said.
'Why suddenly mention that? 'Clementine thought.
"We hope this will be a mutually beneficial relationship," Bandi continued. "After all, during the war against Fenrir, the werewolves also aided in our victory."
"I see…" the king replied thoughtfully. "However, I am unsure if such a three-way alliance would be sustainable. For matters involving them, it would be better to work through our Coven of witches. They currently oversee most of our affairs. Previously, we were at odds with the ghouls, and we wish to avoid any violation of that peace."
'The Coven… like Lylith and Alira from the old days? Wait… could they still be alive? ' Clementine's mind wandered.
"Have the ghouls broken the treaty before?" Bandi asked. "And could you tell us more about this Coven?"
"The ghouls once invaded one of our cities, forcing our witches to eradicate them. We have one witch in particular who is the most capable."
The king leaned toward a nearby guard, whispering something. "Ah, wait here… as it happens, she is currently in the palace."
About ten minutes later, the guard returned, accompanied by a striking woman. Her blonde hair was braided halfway up, her eyes a piercing crimson—not vampire red, but brighter, sharper, almost unsettling. She wore a blood-red gown, high crimson heels, and carried a staff. Atop her head rested a hat trimmed with gold accents.
"You've arrived… come in, Caroline."
Ronovan, normally so indifferent, subtly covered his nose. Bandi did the same. Both of them were fixed entirely on her.
Clementine smelled something unusual as well, though it wasn't suffocating to her.
"Everyone, allow me to introduce the Coven's most capable witch—the Red Witch, Caroline."
Caroline bowed. "A pleasure to meet you all."
Her smile, a thin, bloodless line, barely touched her lips. Her gaze, distant and glassy, seemed to look through Clementine. A chill, almost palpable, emanated from her. Yet, Clementine knew, with a certainty that resonated deep within her bones, that this woman possessed immense power.
--
After the tense encounter with Caroline, Clementine now sat quietly in the villa where they were stationed. The air was still, yet heavy with the memory of that woman's presence. Soon, as promised, they would depart together for the werewolf den to speak with its leader, Geraldine.
The thought alone left Clementine unsettled. She could not shake the image of Ronovan's expression when his gaze had locked on Caroline—sharp, dissecting, as though studying an enemy cloaked in silk.
"You're here? Why not come inside, Clementine?"
Bandi's voice broke the silence. At last, he had decided to speak to her first.
"I only wanted to look at the view," Clementine replied curtly, her tone brittle.
"I noticed… you didn't seem bothered at all by her earlier. Caroline, I mean."
"And why should I feel bothered?"
"She carries the name Red Witch. That title has always belonged to one woman only—Lady Seraphine Midway. I was shocked at her scent, but even more at her attire."
"You sound too familiar with this… even I knew nothing about Seraphine. And her scent… was it unusual?"
"Piercing," Bandi muttered, frowning, "but not rotten, not foul. Just sharp."
Clementine tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Tell me, how old are you, truly? You carry yourself like an ancient vampire, yet I hear you're only half."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Oh… curious now, are you? If I told you, would it erase that hatred you carry for me?"
Clementine clicked her tongue. "Who said I'd do that?"
"Why hate me so much? What have I done to you?"
"You've done nothing," she snapped coldly. "I simply dislike you."
"Tch. Unbelievable." Bandi's eyes flashed with irritation before he turned and stalked away.
Clementine's lips trembled. 'You are not cruel, Bandi,'
she began, her voice barely a whisper. 'The truth is, I am selfish. I despise your casual interactions with Ronovan, your lack of reverence. I hate that he seems to favor you. In truth, I hate everything about you, because you are a mirror reflecting all that I fear losing.'
---
Later, after their preparations, the four of them finally arrived at the werewolf den.
From the first step inside, Clementine felt a chill cut through her veins—a primal hostility lacing the air.
"Is this your first time here?" Caroline's voice rang beside her, smooth but edged.
"O-of course," Clementine stammered. "It never crossed a vampire's mind to set foot in such a place."
"This is the way," Caroline said calmly. "The way to make our alliance stronger. For us humans, our lives are brief compared to vampires and werewolves. Every year matters. Every breath is urgent."
"I know that well," Bandi interjected softly. "I am half-vampire. My years are shorter than both of yours."
Caroline glanced at him. "Half-vampire… is that so."
"Do you share some connection with Lady Seraphine, Miss Caroline?" Bandi pressed.
"Not directly," Caroline's lips curved faintly. "But I admire her. She is my role model. I hope one day to become like her."
"Do you think anything will change if you do?" Ronovan's voice cut through the air like steel.
Caroline blinked. "Lord Ronovan, why would you—"
"Humans," Ronovan scoffed, stepping forward, "are always greedy. Always hungry to know more and to become more. You believe making her your role model will make you stronger, faster? How laughable. No matter how high you climb, no human will ever surpass a vampire or a werewolf." His tone dripped with disdain.
Caroline's eyes turned cold, her stare unyielding, pressing against him like a blade. "So, you mean I am forbidden to aim too high?"
Bandi stepped in between them quickly. "Please! Must we quarrel here? Shouldn't we focus on entering the den?"
Thanks to Bandi's intervention, the tension eased enough for them to proceed.
Entering the heart of the den, Clementine gasped. Rather than beasts, she found people. They were strikingly human in appearance, but their eyes gave them away. Their pupils glimmered with a sharp, alien quality, reminiscent of a wolf.
------
"You seek a three-way alliance, and that is why you came?"
"Indeed, Lord Geraldine," Caroline answered with a smile. Her voice carried strength, confidence, charm. "As Alpha and leader of your kind, I hope you will accept this pact."
Geraldine's laugh was low and sharp. "Do you think I would agree? Vampires have been our enemies since the beginning, and humans…" His lips curled back, revealing teeth just short of a snarl. "You are nothing but prey. And worse—you dare walk in here drenched in that scent."
"Oh? So you noticed." Caroline's smile widened, unsettling, her eyes glowing unnaturally bright. "What is wrong with my scent? Can't we think rationally first, weigh the truth that binds us?"
Her words dripped with menace, yet her tone carried an almost mocking lightness.
"Don't you know who I am? I represent the Kingdom. I am a witch of the Coven. My power is felt everywhere. Letruish should be thanking me for being here." Caroline leaned in, her presence becoming overwhelming.
"If I wished it, I could erase you. Do you know what happened to the ghouls? The moment humans declare you monsters, I will wipe you out."
The threat was real, but Clementine's sharpened senses caught something broken in her cadence—like static, a subtle crackle beneath her voice.
She's faltering, Clementine thought. Her power eats away at her, gnaws from the inside out. This witch is already unraveling. One day, she will collapse.
----
Chaos.
Blood. Screams. Memory torn into fragments.
Clementine's hands were red. Her ears rang with silence. Around her lay corpses—her kin, slaughtered.
And then Rosaria found her.
"Calm yourself," Rosaria whispered, though her voice trembled. "Ronovan… he's fighting Caroline."
Clementine's heart lurched, a cold squeeze in her chest. Whispers, a soft sound like rustling leaves, filled her memory: Bandi with Geraldine. Caroline's frustrated sighs as she failed to connect with them. Then the return, the familiar feel of the nest. Claudius's harsh shouts at Ronovan. The metallic tang of blood as Caroline drank. Crimson soaked her, and then: darkness.
"No, Rosaria. I have to go to him."
"Don't be reckless, Clementine! She's far too strong. She suppressed her mana so tightly we never noticed her true power. You don't understand—Lullaby nearly died, Claudius is wounded, even I—"
Rosaria's words faltered. Clementine's eyes dropped to the gaping wound across her side.
Why?
"The King never intended alliance. We've been betrayed. Humans tricked us from the start."
"Bandi? What of him?"
"I don't know. Ronovan suspects Caroline took him."
"You mean Ronovan is fighting her… for Bandi?!"
"I don't know! Nothing makes sense! Ajax is dead, Clementine! Do you understand? If you go, you will die too!"
Rosaria clutched her hand, desperate. Clementine's eyes burned with tears. She tore her hand away.
"Don't worry, Sister. No matter what, I will bring him back—even if it costs my life."
And she ran.
-----
Fire. Ash. The world in flames.
Clementine staggered into the battlefield, lungs burning. Ronovan's body—blackened, rotting—barely clung to life. Caroline stood before him, untouched, immaculate, smiling like a demon in red silk.
"So this is the legendary elder vampire who defeated Fenrir? Pathetic. I expected more, wouldn't you agree, Sera?" Caroline's voice dripped with twisted delight as she glanced to her side, as if addressing someone unseen.
Ronovan coughed blood, choking, falling. Clementine darted forward, dragging him away from the witch's incoming strike.
"Well, well," Caroline cooed. "Still one left alive. How quaint."
Clementine's voice shook, but she glared. "You won't erase us so easily."
Caroline tilted her head. "That face… Clementine, isn't it? I'm glad you survived."
What is she saying?
"You were the only one who showed me respect. I worried for you."
She's insane.
"Ah, but vampires must perish anyway. Or perhaps I should start with werewolves… ah yes, Bandi offered me quite the bargain. He wished to be spared. Hahaha…"
The sound of her laughter was harsh and fractured.
"Humans crave eternity. Don't we, Sera? Clementine—why not join me? Leave that rotting elder behind. Take my hand. Together, let's build a new world."
"You're mad!" Clementine spat.
"What do you mean?"
"Mad! Not one word you've spoken makes sense. Listen to yourself!"
Caroline's smile faltered. "Tch. Then die."
Pain exploded through Clementine's body—sharp, tearing, unbearable, like her insides were being ripped apart. And then—darkness.
Gasping, she awoke to a different place. Beside her, Ronovan's broken body lay still. Relief flooded her. he was alive, somehow.
Blood soaked her, her garments were torn, and her hair was wild. She had no memory of the events leading up to this, only that she had brought him here. Later, when she returned, Rosaria and the others stared in disbelief, having assumed she was lost. Yet, she had returned, carrying the barely-alive Ronovan.
Soon after, whispers spread. The Cursed Witch, Caroline, was ravaging the world. Clementine walked through ruined cities, the stench of death heavy in the air. Flirmus, once bright, was a graveyard. And there, in the ruins, she heard the static—the broken whisper—and found Caroline waiting.
But she was not alone. Lady Seraphine stood before her.
The battle that followed was one-sided. Before Seraphine, Caroline was nothing.
Clementine watched in horror. And then—Seraphine vanished.
Only Caroline remained, collapsed, trembling, powerless.
"You've reached your karma at last, Caroline," Clementine whispered, clutching her umbrella tight.
"That voice… familiar," Caroline murmured, smiling faintly. "The only one who ever scarred me."
"What…?"
Caroline raised a trembling hand and pressed her finger to Clementine's forehead.
And then—shards of memory Clementine had long forgotten flooded back