The Warrior’s Ballad

Translator: Willia

The night, much like rich wine, undoubtedly held something that intoxicated people.

The darkness, the desolate streets, the peculiar unease, and the subtle moonlight - these were elements that stealthily drew out the buried, sordid desires hidden deep within the human heart.

As a result, there were many who became addicted to the night itself. Like nocturnal animals, they seemed to regain their vitality as soon as the night fell.

The people who headed to the theater known as the “Rose Garden” were of that sort. Their attire was formal, and their demeanor polite, yet there was an impure longing that could be sensed in their unsettling smiles.

What was even more peculiar was that they were all surprisingly young, attractive, and beautiful. Even the oldest among them didn’t appear to be past their early twenties.

Ricardt and Ice could blend in easily enough among such people, but for some reason, they felt a sense of alienation.

Although their outward appearances were similar, there was something fundamentally different, like paper from a different texture. It felt as if their difference from these people could be discovered at any moment.

Upon entering the building, a bright light greeted them first, enough to make one momentarily forget that it was nighttime.

An usher, dressed as neatly as the audience, checked their invitations. It was as if he was openly announcing that he was a vampire.

However, people didn’t seem to mind, perhaps considering it makeup or part of the theme.

When Ricardt handed over the invitation, the usher grinned, baring their fangs.

“Welcome, travelers. Please enjoy the performance."

Ricardt, cloaked in a black cloak and wearing a top hat, tipped his hat slightly as a gesture of acknowledgment and greeting.

After passing the usher, they came upon a curtain. Pushing it aside and entering, they were engulfed by a dense darkness that seemed to swallow them whole.

Only a faint light streaming through the gaps in the curtain behind them barely illuminated the interior. What they saw was an extraordinarily large theater, but the seating for the audience was far fewer than they had expected.

The seating was arranged so that each group sat far apart from one another, and the stage was hidden by a curtain, as though preparations for the performance were still underway.

Ricardt and Ice chose a suitable spot to sit and looked around. It was then that a wet, smacking noise could be heard in the darkness.

Curious about what it was, they looked, only to find couples engaged in amorous acts here and there. Ricardt, shocked beyond words, widened his eyes in disbelief. What is this? Beasts?

Perhaps because he hailed from the conservative inland regions, Ricardt was utterly at a loss for words when faced with the open and liberal sexual culture of the coastal city. He even felt a hint of hostility toward it.

What shocked him even more, however, was that it wasn’t just men and women. Men with men, and women with women, were engaging in the same behavior.

“I think we came to the wrong place.”

Ice said. While the request they had taken on was important, he, too, seemed to think that this was not a place they should be. Although Ice wasn’t afraid of vampires, this alien culture seemed too much for him to handle.

In an era where transportation and communication were underdeveloped, encountering another culture was almost akin to encountering extraterrestrials.

Even within the northern region, people from different towns felt this way about each other. It was no wonder that people from faraway places felt this sense of estrangement even more strongly.

The smacking noises here and there grew increasingly louder, and simply sitting in their seats was becoming unbearably awkward.

Just when the thought of leaving crossed their minds, the curtain that had been hiding the stage finally opened.

And then, the sound of a beautiful harp.

The sound of fingers gently stroking the strings instantly captivated Ricardt’s ears. The stage was then illuminated from below by a special lantern.

Shortly afterward, a man dressed in a form-fitting outfit and wearing a flower crown on his head pranced gracefully onto the stage like a butterfly.

He seemed to revel in showcasing his perfect physique, striking elegant poses before addressing the audience.

“When God created the world, there was paradise in the beginning. Behold, the man and woman who walked in that paradise.”

With that, he pranced gracefully once more before exiting the stage.

A backdrop painted with grass and trees on wooden planks appeared on the stage, and male and female actors began their performance. Incidentally, not only the first man who appeared but also the actors now on stage were all vampires.

Reciting lines with grandiosity, it was clearly a theatrical rendition of a scene from the Bible. But was it really appropriate for vampires to perform something like this?

Regardless, for Ricardt, who was witnessing theater for the first time, the experience was both refreshing and shocking.

Despite the crude stage props and the rigidly structured lines, Ricardt felt as though he had traveled through time to witness the primordial scenes of creation.

This was because the vampires, quite literally, poured their hearts and souls into their acting, breathing life into every word and motion.

As the play continued, a sudden loud sound, reminiscent of a giant tray being struck, burst out as a sound effect. It was as if thunder had roared right in front of them.

Boom! Crash!

“Gasp!”

“Eek!”

The audience gasped in shock, and even Ricardt, deeply immersed in the play, flinched in surprise.

Soon, the scene transitioned to depict the first man and woman gaining the knowledge of good and evil and subsequently being cast out of paradise.

Afterward, as if to ease the tension among the audience, a seemingly random acrobatic performance began.

A female vampire, swinging on a trapeze suspended high above the stage, zipped back and forth over the heads of the audience. At one point, she leaped mid-air to switch to another trapeze rider coming from the opposite direction.

“Wow!”

“Ooooh!”

The audience was completely captivated, enthralled by the mixture of theater and acrobatics. However, Ricardt seemed rather indifferent to the acrobatics.

“They should’ve just stuck to the play. What’s the point of this?”

“Ricky, don’t forget about our mission.”

Ice reminded him. Ricardt nodded. While he wasn’t as engrossed as the audience, he had to admit the play itself had been impressive.

But then, after the trapeze act, the female vampire was tied to a large wooden plank with her limbs bound. A dagger juggler stepped onto the stage and began hurling daggers with astonishing precision.

The audience watched with bated breath as the daggers landed strikingly close to her face and between her legs. Then, the juggler turned to the audience and asked:

“Would anyone like to volunteer?”

Who would volunteer for such a dangerous act? Or so Ricardt thought, but surprisingly, volunteers began emerging from all over the room, most of them women.

“Me! Me!”

“Pick me, Adam!”

The vampire descended into the audience, chose one of the volunteers, and escorted her to the stage. The audience clapped enthusiastically, and the woman’s limbs were tied to the wooden plank.

Sharp daggers were thrown at her. One, two, three, and then.

Whoosh! Thud!

A dagger drove straight into the woman’s heart, embedding so deeply that only the hilt was visible. For a moment, the audience froze in shock, and the dagger juggler made a clownish “Oops!” expression, feigning a mistake.

Then, with a clattering sound, the entire wooden plank flipped over, revealing that the dagger impaled in the heart had disappeared. Only then did the audience relax and applaud with relief.

“They swapped the woman out. Did you catch that?”

Ricardt whispered to Ice. The woman tied to the plank had indeed died, and in an instant, she had been replaced with a different woman, a female vampire.

The vampire escorted the replaced woman back to the audience. However, the man who had accompanied her seemed not to notice the switch, or, if he did, he simply didn’t care.

Ricardt instinctively realized, That guy must be a vampire slave.

Vampire slaves referred to humans who served vampires as their masters.

Meanwhile, the female vampire who had replaced the original woman turned to Ricardt and Ice, giving them a sly grin. Her long fangs glinted ominously.

In the dimly lit theater, this should have sent chills down Ricardt’s spine. But instead, he chuckled lightly and returned the grin with his own smirk. Then, with his eyes, he sent a clear warning: You might just end up dead.

The female vampire, seemingly surprised, wiped the smile off her face and tilted her head quizzically.

After that, the play resumed, but having witnessed such a deceitful display, Ricardt lost interest.

The acting was quite impressive, but now it all felt fake. They should’ve just stuck to the play.

The first man and woman, cast out from paradise, wandered through the desert, enduring all manner of hardships before eventually settling down and bearing children, none other than Cain and Abel.

And thus began the tragic division between humans and vampires.

"The first murder occurred! It happened between brothers! Strike his head with a stone! A new world shall open!"

Boom! Crash!

Once again, a thunderous sound effect erupted. Suddenly, a man was dragged onto the stage, his face pale with terror.

The actor playing Cain grabbed him roughly, pinned him down, and actually struck his head with a stone.

Thud! Thwack! Thud!

This wasn’t acting, it was real murder. But the audience couldn’t discern whether it was fake or genuine. No, they wanted to believe it was fake, thinking, “Surely it can’t be real.”

In the blink of an eye, the man died. Vampires cloaked in black surged onto the stage and feasted freely on the fresh corpse. This horrific scene unfolded openly on stage. It was perfect deception.

Then, with a puff sound, smoke rose from behind the stage, and suddenly, a female vampire appeared.

She wore an extraordinarily striking outfit and exuded a sultry allure.

Her snow-white skin, bright red lips, and a dress with a long slit that revealed her long legs were mesmerizing. Her voluptuous chest and curvaceous figure resembled rolling hills on a field. With every step she took, her hips swayed dramatically from side to side.

Ricardt immediately recognized her. This woman was Remania, the younger sister of Reman.

Wearing black gloves that reached her elbows, she held a bright red apple in one hand and gazed at the audience as she spoke.

“God has given us the magnificent gift of instinct. To suppress it would be foolish. Restrain your hunger? Deny your lust? Suppress your anger? No, eat as you please, ravage as you desire, and destroy to your heart's content. That is what makes us truly human, and that's why we are all brothers and sisters."

As she finished speaking, the curtain fell. The audience erupted in a long-awaited curtain call. Cheers and a standing ovation filled the theater. They didn’t care if the performers were vampires.

Or perhaps, they didn’t care whether they were vampires or not. They had enjoyed the performance, were more than satisfied, and wholeheartedly agreed with the idea of embracing their instincts.

And so, the sacrilegious performance came to an end. The audience applauded for a long while before people began to leave the theater one by one.

However, some didn’t leave. Instead, they walked toward the backstage area. Ricardt and Ice followed them.

Suddenly, a hand shot out of the darkness, grabbing Ricardt by the collar and pulling him. The assailant brought their face so close it seemed as if they might kiss him.

It was the female vampire who had appeared last on stage. Paradoxically, Ricardt could feel the heavy breath of a heartless vampire.

But in that moment, a dagger was already pressed against the vampire’s neck. If she had pulled him even slightly closer, her throat might have been slashed.

Remania smirked in satisfaction and released Ricardt.

“You smell delightful. I’ve never encountered a scent as fresh as yours.”

Ice, who hadn’t noticed Ricardt’s brief disappearance, arrived belatedly.

They were now in a dressing room. Remania walked over, her heels clicking, and sat down on a chair, crossing her legs. The high slit in her dress exposed her sensual legs, revealing skin up to the curve of her hips.

Unfazed, Ricardt paid no attention to her and instead sheathed his glinting dagger back into the folds of his black cloak.

As Ricardt and Ice watched, Remania pulled out a long cigarette holder and placed it in her mouth. By the time she exhaled a plume of smoke, a distant scream echoed from somewhere far away. It was hard to tell whether it was the sound of laughter or crying.

“What happened to those people?”

“They’re volunteers.”

“Volunteers for what?”

“To experience ultimate pleasure… or to become vampires. We never force anyone, that would be undignified.”

“......”

“How’s my dear old brother? Is he doing well?”

Remania seemed to know exactly why Ricardt and Ice had come here. How peculiar. Could it be that high-ranking vampires possess the ability to read people’s thoughts?

“Well, I like you better than him.”

“Quite the unique taste you’ve got.”

“The play was worth watching, but the deception left a sour taste.”

“Theater is a reflection of reality. But conversely, if necessary, even reality can become part of the theater.”

“Is that so? Well, I don’t really care about that. Why did you invite us?”

While Remania clearly knew Ricardt and Ice’s purpose, Ricardt did not know hers. He only knew the “fact” that she had kidnapped his father.

Taking a slow drag on her cigarette, Remania exhaled leisurely and replied,

“Your pure blood. I won’t devour you. I just need a little.”

“...Me? Or him?”

Ricardt, seemingly unbothered by the gravity of the situation, asked if she was referring to him or Ice.

“That guy? He’s all looks but rotten on the inside. His smell is repulsive. But you, no - you’re different. What caught my attention is the purity of your scent. From the moment you entered the city, I could smell you. Like the faint scent of a flower blooming in a filthy sewer. There’s no way I wouldn’t notice.”

Unlike her brother, Remania couldn’t see through Ricardt’s past lives. However, she seemed to sense traces of it, through his scent.

“Why do you need my blood?”

“If my father doesn’t react to the scent of blood like yours, then I’ve lost. You can do whatever you want with me, kill me or let me live.”

As he observed her, Ricardt noticed that Remania seemed utterly drained of energy, as if exhausted beyond belief.

It seemed she had tried everything to persuade, threaten, or otherwise compel her father to drink blood after starving for so long, but to no avail.

Yet, there was a glaring flaw in her proposition.

“And if he does react to my blood?”

“Then you’ll have to die.”

“You’re honest. I like that.”

Had Remania concocted some clumsy schemes or tried to manipulate him, Ricardt might have chosen to fight her outright. But since she laid it all out openly, all that remained was for him to make his choice.

“I’ll go alone.”

Ricardt told Ice. As expected, Ice shook his head.

Knowing there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise, Ricardt quietly pondered the situation by himself.

By the time Remania’s cigarette had burned to its end, Ricardt finally spoke again.

“I’ll prepare my weapons and return in the morning.”

“Alright.”

Ricardt set his conditions, and Remania agreed.

And so, Ricardt and Ice safely exited the theater for now.

"She said you smell."

Ricardt teased Ice. Despite the urgency and seriousness of the situation, he seemed to be trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, that woman reeks of powder. Who’s she to criticize?”

“She’s already pale enough, why bother with makeup?”

“Probably to hide her wrinkles. She's an old hag, isn't she?"

“Pfft... hahaha...”

Joking about Remania behind her back, Ricardt and Ice returned to their lodging and gathered their equipment. They also brought Ilya’s holy oil just in case. Keeping their weapons ready, they stayed up all night, waiting for dawn.

When morning finally arrived, Ricardt and Ice left the inn once again.

As they stepped outside, the radiant sunlight washed away the filth of depraved desires. No vile thing could survive beneath the intense gaze of the sun.