"Idiots! What are you waiting for? Get him!"
The chubby vampire boy—Herbert, apparently—was beside himself, screeching at his gang of lackeys still frozen in shock.
"Damn human! How dare you hurt Lord Herbert!"
"Bite him! Drain him dry!"
"Everyone, together! Don't let him get away!"
The spell broke. The vampire children surged forward, shrieking and fangs bared, intent on mobbing Tenra.
Tenra flexed his knuckles, a cold smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he couldn't take on the grown-up vampires outside, but these brats? No contest.
Thud. Crack. Smack. The castle rang with the ugly music of fists meeting flesh and the chorus of "Ow!" and "Ah!" Herbert could only gape in horror as his loyal minions went down one after another—black eyes, bloody noses, curled up on the floor, wailing for mercy.
One stubborn little vampire, eyes blazing, made a desperate leap for Tenra's throat. Tenra's fist intercepted him midair, sending both tiny fangs flying across the room. The kid hit the ground, saw stars, and burst into tears.
Tenra loomed over Herbert, lips curled in a mocking grin. "Still want to suck my blood?"
Herbert's bravado crumbled. "D-demon! You're a demon! Stay away—!"
Gone was the swagger. Herbert's terrified face twisted as he shrieked, transformed into a bat, and vanished into the shadows.
The rest followed suit, scattering in a flurry of wings—no clue how this human could be so strong, but none of them wanted to stick around and find out.
Silence fell. Tenra scanned the aftermath: humans drained by the vampires lay sprawled and groaning, a few already lifeless—not from blood loss, but from sheer terror.
He ignored them, turning instead to a shadowy corner. "You two—come out."
No answer at first. Then, after a long pause, two figures crept out from behind a wall, nerves written all over their faces.
To Tenra's surprise, both were girls. One looked eight or nine, petite, with shoulder-length hair and wide, anxious eyes. The other was a little older, maybe ten or eleven, with sandy-blond hair tied back, her features delicate and haunted.
"Vampires too?" Tenra asked, sizing them up.
"We—we don't drink blood! We don't!" The younger girl waved her hands frantically, voice trembling, as if she expected Tenra to start swinging at them next.
Tenra's lips twitched. Vampires who didn't drink blood—a couple of outcasts, clearly.
He was about to say something else when a jolt ran through him. His eyes widened in disbelief.
No mistake. That feeling—
Sacred Gears. Both these girls had Sacred Gears.
Shock hit first, then a surge of wild joy. Tenra forced himself to breathe, eyes narrowing as he studied them, voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble.
"Names. What are your names?"
The sudden shift in his demeanor made both girls blanch, but the older one found her voice first.
"I—I'm Valerie. Valerie Tepes. Please, don't hurt us."
"I'm G-Gaspar Vladi," the younger stammered, shrinking back.
Valerie Tepes. Gaspar Vladi. Tenra's mind snagged on Gaspar's name, his gaze flicking over the "girl's" nervous, vulnerable face. Something didn't add up. For a second, his thoughts spiraled—Gaspar Vladi? Wasn't that supposed to be a boy…?
He almost laughed at the absurdity, but let it go. Now wasn't the time.
—
Later, in a quiet room deep within the castle, Tenra stood surveying his new domain while Valerie and Gaspar hovered nervously behind him.
"Not bad. This'll be my room from now on. You two—go find somewhere else."
He didn't bother asking what they thought. The castle was full of empty rooms; cleaning them was a pain, but it wasn't like they had anything better to do.
"Yes, Lord Tenra," Valerie and Gaspar replied quickly, both respectful and resigned.
Tenra dropped into a chair, studying them for a moment before speaking. "Now, tell me everything. About vampires, about yourselves, about this castle—everything you know."
Neither girl had any idea what he wanted, but Tenra's presence left little room for argument. Nervous and uncertain, they began to talk, taking turns as they explained.
Tenra listened in silence, occasionally interjecting with pointed questions. Piece by piece, the picture came together.
Centuries ago, the vampire world had fractured over some great schism. Two factions emerged: the male-dominated Tepes clan and the female-led Carmilla clan. Tenra had heard whispers of this before, but now, thanks to Valerie and Gaspar, he understood—he was deep in Tepes territory.
Gaspar was descended from the prestigious Vladi family, while Valerie was royal—born of the Tepes bloodline. But neither was a purebred vampire; both were half-bloods, born from vampire-human unions.
Not just them. Herbert, the chubby vampire boy, and his gang were all mixed-bloods too.
Vampires were obsessed with bloodlines and hierarchy. Humans were livestock, nothing more. Offspring with humans were "mongrels," despised and discarded. This castle was where the Tepes vampires locked away their half-blood children—a prison for the unwanted.
Every world had its shadows, its ugly truths. Especially among vampires. Tenra felt no urge to play hero, no desire to change things. His only concern was escape.
He dismissed Valerie and Gaspar, then stood by the window, deep in thought.
He had strength—enough to rule this little prison, perhaps. But escaping vampire territory on brute force alone? Not a chance.
Still, it wasn't hopeless. The key lay with the Sacred Gears hidden inside Valerie and Gaspar…
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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