"I once said that the Human Race could be spared, but the church had to be eliminated."
"In the end, Dracula left for his so-called descendant, and you couldn't care less. Heh," Sir Rusevan, a man as cold as he was handsome, said with a sneer.
He was an Elder of the Death Clan who typically wandered the various kingdoms disguised as a bard, seducing women wherever he went.
In Sir Rusevan's view, causing the purest of virgins to fall into utter shamelessness was his greatest pleasure.
He was considered one of the finest among the third-generation Blood Race; even the average Prince was no match for him.
"If she had listened to you, she wouldn't have ended up in this state," another Elder from the Death Clan, Anpsha, taunted from the side. She had once been a handmaiden to the Red Sea Witch Lilith.
The Blood Bath Queen ignored their snide remarks. After sweeping her gaze over them, she said softly, "Your objective is simple. All you have to do is stall the Daywalker."
