The sun had tilted a bit by the time the trio took to the streets. It cast a golden light across the cobbles, but none of it touched Albrecian von Solenshade. Not with that ridiculous hat, a portable roof, really casting shadow over every inch of him.
People were busy. Some were clearing away carcasses and debris left from the previous day’s battle, others were scrubbing walls, washing blood from stone. And yet children played among it all, weaving between wagons and soot, their laughter strangely bright in a city that had just witnessed death.
That two-day holiday Leopold granted really did its work. Tension had cracked. Released.
Still, Einhartturm was far from lax. The Ordnungstruppe, Leopold’s elite civil enforcers patrolled the streets with calm authority. Their white uniforms shimmered like burnished ivory, spotless despite the grime around them. They weren’t merely police.
Leopold, as always, spared no expense when it came to order.
As the trio passed, several Ordnungstruppe members straightened their postures. A few even raised their arms in salute a crisp, almost military gesture.
Lina noticed first. Then Vierna.
"Why are they being so polite to us?" Vierna asked, voice low.
Lina shrugged. "Well, after how the Arkmarschall introduced us to the locals? Heroes and all that? I’m not surprised. Especially since you pulled the trigger."
Vierna tilted her head slightly. “I know. But still... something feels off.”
They continued on. Stopped by a few food stalls. Then a drink vendor. Apparently, Vierna’s appetite had no bottom.
“Vierna, aren’t you full already?” Alb asked, raising a brow.
“Not if you grew up in an orphanage.” she replied cheerfully, biting into another skewer.
Despite the city’s scars, rubble, blood, lingering tension, the atmosphere was warm. Strangely so. Children played in the streets. Adults waved as the trio passed.
Then Alb pointed to an alley branching off the main road.
“Let’s take this shortcut,” he said. “Much cooler. And I don’t know about you ladies, but the sun is killing me.”
“You’ve got a portable roof over your head,” Lina deadpanned.
“Ah, Lady Knight Lina, please forgive my weaknesses,” Alb said, twirling dramatically. “But if Albrecian has one mortal enemy... it is the sun itself.”
“The sun is the symbol of the Imperium,” Vierna added, nodding solemnly. “And since we’re mortal enemies with them, blotting it out of existence sounds reasonable.”
Lina groaned. “Ugh, get a ro— Actually no. Vierna, stop enabling him.”
“Hehehe,” Vierna only laughed, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She knew exactly what Lina was trying to prevent, and teasing her about it was half the fun.
“Well then, Alb,” Vierna said, turning toward the alley, “Let’s head through there, besides I think I smell something good down there.”
“My lady, you are far too kind,” Alb said with a sigh. “Also, please don’t eat the whole city.”
“Hehe… no promises,” Vierna grinned.
The alley was cooler, yes but also emptier. Abandoned. Like the world had paused just for them.
There are no workers, children or even a hint of a living soul.
Just shadows stretching between stone and shuttered doors.
And in the quiet... Lina finally had space to think.
The dramatics. The flair. The jokes.
They were distracting intentionally so, maybe. But now, away from the noise, she replayed the moment again.
That smile.
Just a glimpse, not enough to scream danger, but enough to make something in her stomach twist.
His canines... are too long.
And the way he wilted under the sun?
A theory clicked into place, straight out of a storybook.
She tried to ignore it, but it clung like wet socks in winter. Miserable. Itchy. Impossible to forget.
They walked. Then finally, she snapped.
Her hand closed around Vierna’s wrist.
"Hey, Alb."He paused. Turned slightly, hat casting most of his face in shadow.
"Yes, my knight lady?" he said with a smile.
Lina’s voice stayed level, but her fingers tightened around Vierna’s arm.
"Can you show me your teeth?"
The air shifted like a thread had snapped somewhere in the world.
The warmth from earlier vanished, replaced by a silence so deep it pressed against the ears.
Alb stopped walking.
Then —
"Oh, you mean this?" he said softly.
He opened his mouth.
And there they were.
Fangs. Long. Too long.
Lina stepped in front of Vierna, hand raised.
Runes flared along her fingers, sharp, structured, ready.
"Vierna. Stand back."
"Ahhh... I had hoped to save you two for later," Alb said, voice suddenly lower. Smooth and menacing. He folded his arms around himself with a slow shiver, like a predator savoring the moment before the pounce.
The shadows from his hat deepened as he tilted it forward, obscuring his eyes completely.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
"But it seems," he continued, stepping forward with eerie calm, "our Lady Knight lives up to her title."
His tone shifted — no longer theatrical, but something darker. Primal. Unrestrained.
“You know,” he added, “two fair ladies really shouldn’t follow a stranger into a secluded alley. Especially when both of them have such a delightfully exposed neck.”
A pause. His smile widened.
“Did no one tell you? There are Draghul among you.”
Lina’s blood ran cold.
That word. Draghul.
She’d read it once. In a book, she didn’t read that many books, but this book really caught her attention. It came with detailed pictures after all.
According to the book, Draghul weren’t just different. They were something else entirely.
A cursed lineage from the ancient war, creatures who once waged blood-feud against the Reich.
The Draghul had eventually made peace.
A treaty sealed by steel and sacrifice.
Now, they lived far away. Deep in the Schwarzhang Mountains. Reclusive. Bound by oath. Allegiant to the Reich, but separate.
And feared.
Because even in peace…
They still had fangs.
They still burned in the sun.
And worst of all—
They drank blood.
Lina’s stance held, magic still flickering in her grip.
She knew she wasn’t that strong, and her enemy was a Draghul, a creature out of myth.
If her vain resistance could buy Vierna even one more second to live...
Then it was worth it.
But instead—
Instead of retreating behind her, Vierna stepped forward.
She passed her knight like a lamb walking into a wolf’s jaws—calm as ever.
Her silver hair caught the alley’s filtered light. Her steps were slow. Deliberate. Certain.
She stopped directly in front of Alb.
“That’s enough, Alb,” she said gently. “Stop teasing my Lina.”
Alb froze.
And then—
He collapsed.
Onto the ground.
Laughing.
“Pffff. Hahaha, Lina! You should’ve seen your face!” Alb rolled over dramatically, clutching his stomach like he'd been slain by his own punchline. “I haven’t laughed like this in weeks!”
He spun once in the dirt. “Oh gods, I’m dead. You actually summoned runes—!”
Lina blinked. “Eh… what?”
Vierna knelt beside him, then looked over her shoulder.
“Lina,” she said patiently, “Draghul don’t drink blood. That’s just a myth.”
“But his fangs—” Lina pointed, her fingers still faintly glowing.
“It’s just how they’re born, Lin — the fangs, the sunlight thing,” Vierna said, cutting her off.
She continued. "It was a common mistake, especially when you read The Little Blood Fiend of Schwarzhang Valley. Or maybe Moonless Night: Tales of the Little Squires before meeting a Draghul."
Alb was still chuckling, brushing dust off his shirt.
"Those books are fiction," Vierna continued, "but they’re wildly popular. Almost every kid in the Reich read them. I think the author retired at forty from the royalties."
Lina frowned. "That doesn’t explain the theatrics. Why does he talk like a wannabe poet?"
“Hey —.“ Alb protest
"To be fair, The Little Blood Fiend does get the flair right. Draghul do like a bit of drama." Vierna said, watching Alb.
"And I’ve met one before," Vierna added. "One of the staff at the orphanage was a Draghul. Her name was Lady Mirka. She filed her fangs down so the children wouldn’t be scared of her. Although, I don’t realize the Sun thing is that severe."
“It’s not,” Alb said. “I just want Lina to notice quickly so I can prank her.”
She stood again, brushing her skirt. "Lina… you really need better books. When we get home, I’m lending you mine.”
She smiled faintly, part reprimand, part affection.
"Then why have I never met one before?" Lina asked.
Alb sat up, "Well, despite everything, Draghul still feed on magic. That alone makes most people… uneasy."
He gave a half-smile, a bit more subdued now. "So yeah, we’re not exactly welcomed with open arms. And we’re rare. Even in Schwarzhang Valley."
Lina blinked. "But the book says Draghul waged war against the Reich."
Alb nodded. "The book got that part right, but we got our asses kicked, that was decades ago. I wasn’t even born, but my father talks about it a lot. Said the war ended just before his father passed."
He paused, voice softening. "What my father always emphasized... was that it was Arkmarschall Leopold who stopped the extermination. Without him, we wouldn’t be here."
Lina stared at Alb.
Alb clapped his hands. "Well, since we’ve now successfully taught you not to learn history from fiction books with pictures, shall we continue?"
He grinned and pointed to his fang. "Don’t worry, cosmetic only."
Lina’s hands relaxed. The rune she was about to cast shimmered and vanished.
“I don’t trust you, Alb,” Lina said, narrowing her eyes. “And don’t try to pull any more shenanigans.”
“Hahaha, no promises, Lina,” Alb said with a wink. “You’re just too cute to be left un-teased.”
Vierna laughed a bit as her two new friends bantered. It really was a good day.
"I didn’t know you could use combat spells," she said to Lina.
Lina gave a sheepish shrug. “I can. Just simple fire stuff. Nothing advanced.”
That old feeling stirred again, the one that followed her everywhere before her surrender to the House: helplessness.
What if we ended up in that kind of situation? Trapped. Cornered. Would I just stand there while Lina fights alone? Vierna thought.
No.
She clenched her jaw.
I want to protect Lina too.
No more excuses. I’m going to learn how to fight.
As the blood-sucking conspiracy faded into laughter, the trio continue their way.
“So you're not sucking our blood,” Lina muttered, falling into step again. She positioned herself between Alb and Vierna, arms slightly out, like a cat trying to herd invisible kittens. Except this time, the ‘kitten’ was far more composed than the one doing the guarding.
“Nope,” Alb said.
Lina gave him a look.
Lina narrowed her eyes. “What do you normally eat?”
Alb raised a finger, as if delivering a grand revelation. “Mostly sugar-coated meat.”
Lina blinked. “You’re lying.”
“No, seriously,” he said. “Dried beef with honey glaze. It’s a delicacy. Great for mana recovery, too.”
Lina groaned. “Do you sleep in coffins too?”
“Only nobles do that,” Alb said with a nod. “The rest of us sleep upside down in broom closets.”
“And the ‘blah blah blah’ thing?” Lina added, narrowing her eyes.
“Reserved for our closest friends,” he said, grinning.
Lina groaned. “I hate you.”
“But I loved you!” Alb clutched his chest like he’d been stabbed.
Vierna watched the two with a small smile curling at the edge of her lips. Alb kept pushing, Lina kept biting back, and somehow it didn’t feel like chaos. It felt… normal. Like this had happened before. Like it could happen again.
Her gaze dropped, unfocused, as something surfaced.
The orphanage had been loud. But no matter how many bowls they shared or hands they held, she always felt like a shadow in the room. Everyone moved “with” each other.
But no one ever moved with her.
Yet here, in this shattered city, beneath sunlit rubble and beside a joke-drunk Draghul and a twitchy knight, it felt warmer than anywhere she’d been. If only that part hadn’t happened. Vierna shook her head, as if that were all it took to bury the memory again.
Meanwhile, Lina looked at Alb, hesitant.
“How do you feel… when you suck magic out of people?”
Alb stopped.
The air shifted.
That question hit a nerve.
His smile didn’t return.
“Lina,” he said, voice low. “Be careful asking that kind of thing.”
He meant it this time.
“That question… it’s taboo. Even among Draghul.”
He looked at her, serious in a way that made both girls go still.
“I like both of you. I really do. So I’ll answer. But you’re lucky it’s me you asked, not another Draghul.”
Lina and Vierna exchanged a glance.
Alb wasn’t joking.
“In combat, we use that ability. It lets us keep going longer than most mages. That’s just biology.” He exhaled through his nose.
“But when we take mana from someone unwilling... it’s awful. Tastes like sewage. Like we’re chewing on stale meat. And I don’t mean that metaphorically, I meant it literally, like we had to make the mana ‘dead’ before we absorb it.”
A pause. His gaze drifted to the ground.
“But if someone willingly lets us… for some reason… it’s different. The mana flows clean. Like a blessing. It’s warmth. Euphoria.”
“It makes some of us… lose ourselves.”
Neither Lina nor Vierna said a word.
Alb looked back up, softer now.
“I hope that answers your question. So no, Lina. I won’t just suck your magic out of nowhere.”
Lina bit her lip.
“I’m sorry, Alb. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Alb smiled again, but gentler now.
“It’s okay, Lina. Draghul are always treated with suspicion, the path towards coexistence is understanding.”
They continued walking.
Lina lingered behind, still weighed by guilt but Alb didn’t ignore her.
Each time he spoke with Vierna, he tried to include her. Invited her in with a glance, a joke, a question.
It didn’t always land, she was still a step behind, still lost when their conversation spiraled into obscure theory or poetic nonsense.
I need to learn more, Lina thought. I want to be part of that.
Not just standing at the edge of their world.
They turned a corner.
Alb flung out his arms with theatrical flair.
“Ladies of Silver-Haired Land, may I present to you, Das Duellhaus, in its full glory!”
Should Lina read more books or not?
