Because of the existence of the Papal States, the royal families and major nobles of the Southern Continent are subject to efficient turnover.

Many newly ennobled lords or kings will choose to repair and live in castles that are still in decent condition, but there are always those who refuse to live in places that others have occupied before.

This has resulted in a huge number of castles across the Southern Continent;

even in this remote border town, an ancient castle remains.

The old fortress is creepy;

its dilapidated walls have gone unrepaired for years and show signs of collapse.

Although Queen Elizabeth I of the previous dynasty lives here, the former royal household is far weaker than even the weakest lord. Apart from ten knights and seven or eight servants, there is no other staff in the entire castle.

That only makes the castle more eerie, like a vampire stronghold.

Of course, it might very well become a real vampire castle.

Pale moonlight washed over the fortress, adding a sliver of horror to this abandoned place.

It was nearly midnight, yet the former royal princess, Elizabeth I, still had not slept.

Westerners mature quickly, and this was the Middle Ages — both mentally and physically this young queen had already come of age. She was not voluptuous, but she had blossomed into a graceful, upright beauty.

A single dim lamp could not brighten the large, towering chamber.

Shadows danced around the lamp;

step a little farther and the room became pitch-black, ancient, and gloomy.

Moonbeams slipped through the castle window, falling across the room and illuminating Elizabeth I’s slightly furrowed, delicate face.

As a princess of the previous dynasty, her life had been harsh. Though the new king appeared merciful on the surface, in reality he kept a tight, paranoid hold on members of the old royal family.

Even the death of her grown brother, Edward VI, carried an odd air.

She was left alone as the sole female member of the royal household, barely surviving thanks to the king’s so-called mercy.

But even so, both the knights assigned to guard her and the servants attending her had already been bought by the king;

they acted as spies and helped to keep her under soft imprisonment.

Since her brother’s death she had not been able to step outside the castle gate. Her current existence served only for the occasional public display when the king wanted to show his mercy.

Young girls naturally romanticize, and especially so when imprisoned.

Facing such circumstances, the main reason Elizabeth I had not yet completely lost her sanity was the long hours she spent fantasizing every day.

She dreamed that one day a prince on a white horse would appear—handsome and imposing, sword in hand—would behead the king, become the new monarch, and then, while touring the country, happen to ride past this place and see her sitting at the castle window, gazing out...

Elizabeth I sat at the window of the gloomy castle chamber, letting the moonlight fall on her still somewhat youthful skin. Her crystalline blue eyes were slightly dreamy as she fantasized about her white-horse prince...

---

"Your Majesty, you haven't eaten for a month. Please eat something!"

Deep within the shadowed thicket, two ghostly figures dressed like beggars slipped through the trees, moving as easily as if it were broad daylight despite the pitch-black surroundings.

Priest Abraham wore a set of stolen, ragged clothes and held a foul-smelling, big rat in his hand, offering it toward Norton’s direction.

The Southern Continent is vast;

Norton and Priest Abraham had spent five full years walking before they finally left the borders of the Papal States.

"I won't eat that! Such vile flesh — even the blood reeks. I want the blood of young maidens to savor its sweetness!"

Norton slapped the rat out of Priest Abraham’s hand and scolded him.

Do they even know how the past two months have been for these two vampires?

Within the Papal States, Priest Abraham could still find locations by tracking cities;

once outside its borders and into the wilderness, both vampires got lost.

At first it was manageable — they could navigate by direction. Their plan had been to reach the small nation farthest from the Papal States, hoping to expand the Vampire Clan there.

But as they traveled, they ended up on a highland Gobi plateau. The plateau was bitterly cold and almost lifeless;

aside from giant rats, only foxes and jackals appeared occasionally. For some reason, the flesh of these creatures reeked, and even their blood smelled rank. One taste filled the mouth with a stench like fermented urine.

This made Norton long for the sweet, fragrant blood of those maidens back in Rino City.

The big rat hit the ground and let out a faint squeal.

"Ah!" Priest Abraham sighed deeply, utterly exasperated.

Throughout this journey Norton had been a constant source of trouble: one day wanting this, the next day that, and prone to saying, "If you can't even do this right, what's the use of you?" It left Abraham feeling helpless and under tremendous pressure.

Your Majesty, we've ended up as beggars — why be so picky?

You, Norton, haven't drank for so long you're almost out of breath and you run slower than I do, yet you still act like a gourmet?

In truth, Abraham had misjudged Norton. That brat was cunning;

he was secretly stashing things.

After all, Norton could exist as a perpetually sustained lifeform who could go without blood and still maintain peak physical condition. At worst he would be unable to advance if he refused to feed — there was no way he should be too weak to run.

But the closer people live together, the more careful you must be!

New-style Vampires cannot go extended periods without feeding, and each third-generation Vampire has its own problems.

First-generation Vampires have no heartbeat but do contain blood. Prolonged fasting causes their internal blood to be gradually consumed — this blood likely lubricates their bodily structure. Too long without feeding makes their bodies shrivel and weak, eventually forcing them into a dormant state.

During that period their bloodlust intensifies.

Second-generation Vampires are worse off, perhaps because the mutated genes are diluted and because they are converted from living humans. They actually have heartbeats and circulating blood. With extended fasting, their hearts gradually stop, circulation becomes blocked, and they are forced into dormancy even while some blood remains. The heart thus becomes a major weakness.

As for third-generation Vampires — like the glamorous young men and women in modern TV shows — they are even more pathetic. Their vitality is higher and they remain within the category of living creatures. Damage to their heart, blood, or brain can be fatal. Their dormancy has a time limit;

if it lasts too long, their blood will be exhausted. Once their blood runs out they cannot passively draw blood from others and lose all activity, becoming corpses. So third-generation Vampires require someone to actively wake them from dormancy to prevent permanent decay.

You can blame Norton for this: in his past life he watched too many varied videos, and especially that scene in Underworld where Elder Viktor awakens with his heart beating after a century — that became the root cause of third-generation Vampires being so fragile.