Chapter 341: Inside The City

"HALT!"

Standing at the front of a massive gate, a man barked the order and raised a hand to stop the approaching carriage. Two more guards flanked him, wearing battered armor and holding their weapons at the ready.

"State your business!" the leader snapped, stepping closer to the carriage.

After nightfall, most of the guards were on edge. The night shift is considered the 'rough' shift, not because the jobs were rough, but rather the ones assigned to it were often the lowest-ranking, least-trusted, and generally not-so-bright members of the watch.

'Damn, this would make my job more difficult, would it not?'

The leader cursed inwardly as he approached and caught sight of the luxurious carriage. Even with his dull mind, he could tell the people inside were no common travelers. Nobility, almost certainly.

And offending a noble? That wasn't just a risk to his job—it could cost him his head, especially if the noble in question was important enough.

But orders were orders.

Every carriage had to be searched after nightfall. That decree came straight from the king himself. An absolute law. Disobeying it, no matter the circumstances, was treason.

So, cursing his luck, the guard ignored the driver and stepped up to the side window. He placed a shaking palm against the polished wood of the carriage.

"Please open the window," he ordered, licking his dry lips nervously.

'This is not going to end well,' he thought.

"Please prepare the paper—" his words died in his throat when the curtains parted and his eyes met two glowing red eyes that captivated him instantly.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

Leaning into the light was a breathtaking woman, with pale skin, short silver hair, and of course, bright red eyes. She wore a red and black Victorian goth dress adorned with an elegant cape around her shoulders. But even that noble cloth could not cover the perfect breasts and wide hips of the most beautiful woman the guard ever had the honor to meet in his life.

The guard's throat clicked as he swallowed. His mind, once steeled with duty and fear of royal decree, melted like snow under the sun. His grip on his spear slackened, and his posture slackened with it. The woman's voice wasn't just sound—it was silk dipped in honey, warm and sinfully smooth.

"No... no problem at all, my Lady," he mumbled, eyes wide and unblinking.

She smiled, slow and sultry, like she knew exactly how tight the strings of his soul had become.

"How kind," she purred, brushing a gloved finger along the edge of the window. "You work so hard, standing guard all night. I can only imagine how exhausting it must be... all that tension... the cold... the boredom..."

"Y-yes," the leader muttered, unable to look away. A delicious heat was spreading across his skin.

"How unfortunate... how unfair for you." She shifted slightly, resting her chin in her hands. "My poor guardsman. My sweet, hardworking gentleman. Don't you think you deserve a little reward, my love?"

A soft sound of approval escaped his throat. His thoughts turned into a heated slurry. Yes. Yes, this was a reward. This woman, this wonderful creature, was an angel who came to bless him. But for some reason, his mind screamed distant warnings—something about the king, about orders—but they were faint, like echoes in a dream he no longer wanted to wake from.

She leaned closer, and the faint scent of roses and something darker—iron and wine—filled his nose.

"I understand you have rules," she whispered, voice like a lover's breath at midnight. "But surely... You wouldn't turn away a lady in distress... would you?"

She pressed her hand against his cheek, and he felt the chill of her skin—a softness that didn't belong in this world. He should have flinched. He didn't.

"I..." he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I suppose... I could let this one slide... just this once..."

Her smile deepened, just a touch. Enough to show the faintest hint of fangs behind her crimson lips.

"You're a gentleman," she said, drawing back and giving him one last smoldering look. "The world could use more like you."

"T-Thank you, my lady, it's... It's an honor, believe me!" the guard said, stumbling backward, nodding, waving at the gate mechanism like a puppet on loose strings. The massive iron gate groaned and slowly swung open.

The silver-haired woman gave a soft, velvety chuckle that slid down the guard's spine like silk. The carriage creaked forward a few inches, the driver understanding without being told. But she lingered at the window a moment longer, letting her glowing gaze linger on the man who had just betrayed crown and law for a whisper and a touch.

"You know what my carriage looks like." Her eyes glimmered like the glow of a campfire on fresh snow. "If you want another reward, come find me later."

"Yes... Y-yes I will!" The guard nodded fiercely, blood boiling, heart pounding, and of course, the little brother down there was fully hard and raging.

"Good," the lady said, then tapped the window as a goodbye, and the curtain fluttered shut like the last gasp of dying daylight. The carriage passed into the city proper, its elegant frame bobbing gently over the potholes in the cobbled road, followed by the wagon that the leader of the guards failed to notice completely.

"Phew." V reclined against the cushioned carriage bench, eyes closing in relief. After a moment, she opened one and glanced to her left, a blonde elf woman in a maid outfit sat there in silence.

"When the guard comes knocking later, you know what to do," V ordered, eyeing her servant.

"Yes, my lady," the elf maid bowed her head in understanding.

She was one of the four elf slaves that V turned into vampires. Despite being forced to turn, all four of them were grateful beyond reason. Grateful enough to kill for her. Die for her. Obey her every whim with a smile and a curtsy.

To wield a great power that mortals can only dream of. To drink the blood of the world and enjoy the scent of flesh. To feel the strength, take revenge, the ecstasy of absolute freedom, free from mortal decencies and fear, the burden of life, and even the flow of time.

Such is the wonder of vampirism—of living in a body born in the world, but free from it, no longer tied to the rules of men.

The blonde elf maid, delicate as spun glass yet deadly beneath the surface, sat upright with perfect posture. Her golden eyes shimmered faintly in the dim interior of the carriage, the faint trace of her own crimson turning them into pools of dusk.

Like their mistress, the new vampires were able to slightly change their appearance, returning to their original visage.

"I'll make sure he forgets everything," she said softly. "Or remember exactly what you want him to do."

"Good girl." V chuckled and stretched languidly, her corset creaking ever so slightly as she moved. "It will be a good test for all of you."

"We won't disappoint you."

"Excellent," V replied with a grin. "Now let's head for that inn."

The carriage passed through the mist-wrapped streets of the sleeping city, the clatter of hooves muffled beneath the fog. Gas lamps flickered on the corners, casting halos of golden light in the darkness. They passed unnoticed, save for a lone alley cat that hissed and bolted as the wagon trailed behind them—still unnoticed, still untouched.

Inside that wagon were many valuable things taken from a noble manor—fine paintings, heirloom trinkets, rich fabrics, and documents that bore forgotten seals. V had arranged them carefully, just as she had done in the past.

She was no stranger to playing a fallen noblewoman from a distant land. It was a game she'd perfected during her missions across countless cities—slipping into high society, weaving lies into silk and charm, letting rumors bloom like poison roses in the halls of power. Nobles were simple creatures: show them wealth, a tragic story, and a hint of danger, and they'd offer everything they owned just to taste your secrets.

Now, with her newfound form—a daywalker—the game had become laughably easy.

Her appearance was almost unfair. So fucking hot and captivating that priests would abandon their gods for a glance, and kings would forget their crowns just to touch her skin. Her beauty wasn't just physical—it was predatory. Her presence coiled around the soul like smoke, suffocating reason with lust and fascination.

The kind of woman men bled for.

V smirked to herself as the carriage passed beneath an arched bridge. Above, the silhouette of a city patrol blinked down and looked away, too shocked—too enthralled—to question what they saw.

"Once we settle in," she murmured to her maid, eyes still half-lidded, "have the girls take positions. I want eyes in every corner, and don't forget to collect all the information about the Holy Church of Light and its High Priestess Liliana."

"Yes, my lady," the elf said at once, her voice smooth and sharp like the edge of a polished dagger.

"But be careful," V added, her tone growing serious. "The people of this land—young, old, noble or beggar—they hate anything that isn't human."

She leaned forward, her crimson gaze piercing through the window's reflection as the lantern light flickered against her pale face.

"They don't see elves. Or dwarves. Or beastkin. They see monsters. Property. Toys. And they treat them like things less than dogs... beasts... or worse."

The blonde elf maid didn't flinch. She bowed her head low in acknowledgment, strands of gold falling like silk over her face.

"Understood, mistress. I will keep to the shadows."

"Good," V said with a nod, then proceeded to pull a lewd-looking golden key. "I need to inform Mother that I arrived in the capital of Vandor."

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