He opens his eyes, a ray of light coming from the other side of the cave.
"Was I dreaming all along?" he mutters, breathing heavily as he drags his body toward the light.
The light leads him to the lair.
"Ohhh, how beautiful I am — the world's greatest vampire lord, Heek. What a beautiful name… Well, well, well, looks like we have a guest here tonight."
A tall, slender, beautiful vampire stands in his lair, gold coins flowing out like waterfalls. Everywhere you look, gold shines endlessly.
Tip… tip… a few drops of blood hit the floor. The next moment, his ear falls to the ground. He's in no condition to fight such a being, yet he has nowhere to run.
"By your looks, you seem to be that guy… what do they call you? Hmm… ah yes — the child of the trickster. You're the child of that witch, Lunaforge, that bit—"
Another ear drops.
"Heh, ear for ear. You're quite the interesting one."
Without warning, the Trickster attacks. A glowing ball explodes right on the vampire's face — but it doesn't affect him at all.
"What's next? Your little tricks can't work on me. You're nobody."
He notices movement in the gold and attacks it.
"Again? You're trying to fool me — but you can't escape me, no matter what."
A hand reaches from behind and tries to choke him, but Heek grabs it easily and twists him around like a toy.
"You think you can take me head-on? Is this your little trick, child of the trickster? Hahaha… how foolish. I can't sense mana or ki or any form of energy from you. Though I must praise your life energy — quite interesting indeed. But I am the superior one here. Oi, why are you smiling?"
"You talk too much — and that's why I bought myself time."
The Trickster headbutts him. Heek drops him, shocked. "What… what have you done to me?" he growls, eyes wide.
Previously—
While being choked, the Trickster hadn't been struggling aimlessly. Hidden in his hand was a powder — which the vampire inhaled unknowingly.
"You… you…" Heek coughs violently, blood spilling from his mouth. "I can still take you, you insect!"
Heek closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, manipulating his own blood into a glowing sword.
"Trickster, I may be weakened, but compared to a trained knight, my swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat are unmatched. I am five times stronger than a trained knight!"
"Blah, blah — you talk too much."
Both swords clash — pure, raw energy shaking the air. Heek smiles, twisting his sword to attack from different directions, but the Trickster moves like a dancer, effortlessly dodging each strike.
Zinnnnn — the sound of breaking steel echoes. Heek's sword shatters.
"You insolent—!"
Heek takes a stance, eyes locked on the Trickster. Then, he drops his sword.
"You mock me again? Fine. This time, I won't hold back. I'll break your entire bloodline!"
Heek vanishes in a blur, throwing a punch — but the Trickster catches it, jerks it aside, and with a kickboxing stance, punches straight at the vampire's face. Dhuumm!
Heek stumbles back, realizing the difference in skill. The Trickster's punch didn't hurt him — his durability remained — but the technique, the precision, the control… there was no comparison.
And the powder was still draining his strength. His only advantage was fading fast.
Heek feints a punch, then goes for a leg kick — but the Trickster was waiting. With a perfect block, he breaks the vampire's shin. The fight is over.
"Ahhhhhh! My leg—! How did you know I'd lost my power enough to block that kick? Don't tell me you… you were calculating this from the start!"
The Trickster doesn't reply. His silence is scarier than any threat. He walks slowly toward him.
"Stop! I said stop! What do you want? A beautiful woman's body? The gold? It's all yours! You want immortality? You don't have mana, right? Take mine!"
"I want your head."
Slash.
The dagger cuts clean. The vampire lord's head falls.
The Trickster puts on his armor, packs the head, and from the rivers of gold, he takes only a single sword — the simplest one.
Dragging himself out of the lair, body torn and bleeding, he walks with the sword as his support.
The sun rises. Birds sing softly.
A bull cart passes through the forest path.
"Father, look! There's someone on the road!"
A middle-aged man climbs down. "Oh, gods… he's severely injured. How is he even breathing? We have to take him to the care center."
They lift him into the cart and continue toward town.
A beautiful city comes into view — vast roads, cold yet fresh air, a cheerful crowd. Shining trees, bright sun, elegant homes. People laughing and talking.
In the midst of it, the cart rolls on.
"Nina, stay here with the cart. I'll go sell our stock. Help this man if he needs anything."
"Okay, Pa."
The Trickster suddenly wakes, checks his pouch, and sighs in relief. Without delay, he jumps off the cart and starts walking away.
"Hey! You're in no condition to leave. You're still bleeding!" Nina calls out.
He ignores her.
People whisper nearby, fear in their voices. "Get away, get away — they're coming!"
A large lizardman sprints toward them, chased by an elf in a silver chestplate and blue dress.
The lizardman suddenly turns, stretches his tongue, and slams her against a wall — then rushes toward the cart.
Before he can reach it, blood splatters — a knife hits his calf.
"Uwahhh! Who was it?!"
The lizardman freezes. In an instant, the Trickster stands before him, having crossed the distance already. He swings his sword at the creature's neck—
Tinnn!
A vibration stops the blade. The elf blocks his strike.
"You can't kill him," she says coldly. "He's mine."
The Trickster says nothing and walks away.
Later, he enters the guild.
He drops the vampire's head on the counter. "Here. I want my reward."
"You need to sign here."
He ignores it and walks toward the eating area.
"Two fish and rice," he says, dropping a few coins.
He sits alone, isolated. The room feels quieter around him.
Then, the elf enters. Everyone stares — whispers spreading.
"What a beauty."
"Damn, I'd spend a night with her."
"Shut up, idiot — she can hear you!"
"Humans…" she mutters.
She orders pasta and sits across from the Trickster.
"Yo, Mr. Trickster. Looks like you're quite popular. People don't like your methods, huh?"
"If you have business, speak. If not, I'm busy."
"Come on, you're not busy — you just finished your mission."
No reply.
"Fine. Help me tonight to find something I lost."
"No. Elves are not worthy of my trust."
He stands and leaves.
Later, at the water pump, he washes his hands, drinks, and is about to leave when she appears again.
"Can't you help a lady?" she teases.
"So gentleman of you — refusing a simple request. You don't seem like the kind of guy who cares who gives you a job."
"I'm tired," he says flatly. "Without rest, I'm of no help to anyone."
He leaves.
At home, he removes his armor. His skin glows a warm brown; in the mirror, only his eyes shine — bright green, piercing the dark.
Without another thought, he collapses into bed.
And with one slow breath, he falls asleep.
Night falls.