The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today
Chapter 59: Sacrifice! Red Silk meets the Dragon!

Chapter 59: Sacrifice! Red Silk meets the Dragon!

Flashback

"Mother mother! Why musn’t we drink blood like the others?"

"Because, Manasseh, my child." Her mother petted her head as she softly smiled. "It dulled our senses, it casted away who we are, for nobles must never drink blood, but instead lead wtih mercy and defiance against our betrayer ancestor."

"But no blood equals to no strength, mother! I thought that’s what vampires are about?!" The child flailed her arms in the air, her fangs glimmering in the moonlight dimmed not even a sliver of silvers.

"Strengths aren’t just claws and bites, Manasseh. The fact that we are the only ones granted the ability to speak is no coincidence." The mother’s silver hair, in contrast, dimmed compared against the moonlight, indulging in a silvery sorrow.

"M-my lips?"

"Your lips, Manasseh. For us, to speak is to rebut, to rebut is to retaliate, and to retaliate is to sacrifice, sacrifice every ounce of what should have defined us as bloody beasts, into a pure noble with elegance and tact."

"Ah, I-I want to elegant too, mother! Just like you!" Manasseh raised her hand in excitement. Never has she managed steady steps for a dance, or languages from a noble, maybe the path of nobles wasn’t for her, but her smart mind drawing on a blank white sheet presented other paths, other possibilites, all craddling embers for a passion she never knew existed.

A sad smile curved from her mother’s lips, before petting Manasseh’s head. "That’s right my babygirl. Never forget yourself, never forget what defines you, never let go of your noble title, for you are prideful vampires of Bloodhound, my one and only daughter."

That night, when the child curled up in the bed, she drew upon a silken scarf, one she secretly learned from the maid to stitch it herself. The crimson cottons and flailing fabrics would go well with her mother’s white hair, as the red-haired vampire nodded to herself before sobbing out of pain from the pained fingertips, yet the eagerness for a pleased smile and petting fuelled her skillful fingers, an early perchant and bond with silks and strings.

So when she heard her mother came in the form of a coffin, the girl was hugely disappointed.

War, is what they told her.

She died valiantly, as a vampire should, is what they told her.

Along with many other feats and counts for human heads taken, the young Manasseh merely carried the crimson scarf, her smile never leaving her face as she entered the familiar bedroom of her mother’s once again.

There, an empty chair seated itself in the centre, ever beckoning the girl to stride over, try the softness. She hugged the scarf and hopped, as she stopped and carried herself onto the chair, her red hair unbefitting the imaginery that she had in mind.

Right, her mother’s hair is white.

Right, her mother’s smile is much softer than hers.

Right, her mother’s warmth is much more comfortable than she hugging herself.

Right, her mother could no longer pet her, smiled at her, reassured her.

That night, the lone little girl cried into the scarf, the crimson color ever a haunting reminder of what has been lost, and what duty she would soon follow, for she would trace the path of ’sacrifice’ just as her noble mother did.

For the nobles.

For the vampires.

For the Bloodhound.

For her mother.

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Manasseh’s wavering gaze darted to Coriel. Honour, she has grasped, was but a convenient tool before sacrifices, just as for her kins, she would sacrifice the kins themselves, so that Alice’s slik may be born.

It is perhaps an irony, however, that her vessal must embed her own failure, and she would meet her maker here, for one last time, for the affiliates that defiled their bretherens corpses in the name of a ’cure’.

"Sister, I beckon you to reconsider. Manasseh is a valuable talent."

Manasseh? You can hear me, correct?

The vampire noble blinked, as her shocked blue eyes stared right at the Dragon Elder’s calmly gaze, her elegant visage ever a tint of comfort towards her wounded heart, heart that now beat for the devil’s whisper in her head. The voice echoed, slithered, consumed, her sanity at the brink of exhaustion, yet always cleared enough for a crack, a crack for the temptation to slip through.

"What tricks are you playing, sister? Let the doll go, or I’ll spare no troubles with Dragon Language to find you, sister." Dragon-scale flicker embers as if to hide her disgusted rage from within, as Adrei glared at Coriel with sharp gazes for judgement, and claws as executioner’s blade.

"Please, sister. She is the future of what could have been for demons. For the vampires. For the peace between humans and the Undeads."

I have connected your nerve system using this child as the <main server>. This body would not last long, so I will try and keep it short.

Coriel tiltted her head, the half-child’s dysfunctional mechanic ever an inconvinience that she found oddly amusing. Perhaps she should dissect more of the puppets before merging her skins with plastic to truly have a more accurate data. Materials...right, the ones she threw aside as malfunctioned ’doll’ would do well.

"Grr, Dragon Elders really all are weirdos. Oi, Coriel. You-"

"Don’t reason with her, Demond. Just because you’re my wife, it does not mean you need to spare your mercy on this traitourous family of mine." Claws struck forward as it stopped right before the iris, as Adrei, without hesitation, closed her eyes and chanted.

<Crawl, Gusts, Mock>

Then, a convulsion occured in Coriel, or rather Lucy’s body, as she gritted her teeth against the dragon’s language, Coriel soul felt like being crawled inside with centipedes, before gushing into a violent storm against her very structure of mana. If left alone, her ’mana’ will manifest as a crawling insect before flying to Adrei, telling her of her location at all times and every times.

Yet despite on a time limit against the language, a mere thrill spawned from the bottomless abyss that is her heart. Yes, she can beat her sister. The calculation is perfect, the behaviour is predictable, and most importantly...she trusted in the vampire’s pride.

In the Street of Solitude Swordsmaiden, cross the pathway until you reach a fountain. There you will find a lion’s stature, smash it, and you will be given a method to reactivate Adil’s runes.

Manasseh gritted her teeth as she glared at Coriel, as if to silently ask what is her purpose. Why is she helping her, and why in the hell would she think that she would ever let her rested breatherns back to suffering under the dirts of humanity?

Even when facing murderous intent clocked for her souls and manas, Coriel merely smiled. This time not of elegance, but loosening just enough to make Manasseh even more disgusted. It was satisfaction, relief and pride, as if looking at the new journal entry of her favourite lab rat’s growth.

You will. You have no other purpose. And none of your bretherns have been delivered justice, like you promised them, remember?

Reject, and Coriel will truly be escatic. The scientist’s limbs hid her excitement in her sparadic convulsion, each joints’ cracking and crackling a loud witness to Manasseh’s decision, whether for herself or for her dead kins.

Manasseh nodded downwards, as Selene’s hollow laughing of disbelief echoed in her ears yet never registering in her mind. The only visage that colored her abyss is whiteness, whiteness that is runed stones beneath her, whiteness that is the despairing silk that now defined her, whiteness...that is her mother’s hair, ever a fitting color to the roses beneath her body.

Right...sacrifice. She has....sacrificed too much to turn back.

Casting one apolegetic smile towards Selene, who answered her gaze with a mere innocent tilt of her head, Manasseh’s shoulder swung and cracked through the window beside her, her red frame landing upon the rough land that scarred her half-human skin.

"Shit! Adrei!"

The Dragon needed no more words, as her frustrated irises darted before the escaping Manasseh and her ’sister’ who now closed her eyes and smiled. It was a predicatable decision, one that left her disappointed. The subject was as prideful as she was blind, yet her honesty mirrored hers as the arrogance of the scientist chuckled in victory, as her mechanical lens faced her sister.

"It’s my win today, sister."

Steams seethed out from Adrei’s scales, yet she no longer could bother for a glare. Severing the link to Coriel, she dashed out the broken window as she chased for Manasseh in a distance, as they both slipped through crowds to crowds like dodging human pitballs.

Avoiding to use humans as hostage? Is this vampire as dumb as that La Llorona? Feeling as if she is humiliated that Manasseh could ever imagine outrunning a Dragon Queen, Adrei’s legs bolted, as her dragon claw reached out for Manasseh’s arm, their figures at a hair’s breath.

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