AN: some basic knowledge about Nasu vampires and magecraft is highly recommended prior to reading, as when I write this I would assume you to be already knowledgeable.

There isn't really any overarching plot for this fic, as I'm writing this here because I've hit writer's block with one of my other works on another site.

Cross-posting from Questionable Questing


2001

"Report, Vice-Director."

I stood firm and at attention, my right gauntlet hand lay in front of my stomach while my left hand was placed behind my back, straightening my spine, tucking in my stomach, and puffing out my chest like I was in the military. In a way, that wasn't wrong. I am a Wizard Marshal, the head of the Extermination Brigade, a small battalion of 50 elite magus hand-picked by me for the sole purpose of hunting down any Dead Apostles and Ancestors.

Vampire hunting essentially.

My name is Lorelei Barthomeloi, the sole remaining member of the legendary Barthomeloi clan, one of the Three Great Families of the Clock Tower, and who used to be the most powerful and influential family in the entire Mage's Association.

I am a reincarnated individual, as such, I had a different name once, but I dropped my old one in favor of my new one. Sometimes, it's best to let the past die, especially if they hold you back. It certainly helped that most of my old memories are fading.

I stood in front of the desk belonging to the Director of the Clock Tower, Brishisan. Dignity and professionalism oozed out of my form due to my well-practiced aristocratic mannerism drilled into me at a young age by my late father and later, the Director. My eyes unabatedly stared at the shadow that the Director often veiled himself in, there was no flinching of the muscle due to the sudden tensing of the body nor was there any break in eye contact.

I was raised to carry myself with pride. I will not betray those teachings.

Pushing in to adjust the glasses mystic code known as 'Mystic Eye Killers' on my nose, I replied sharply, "Yes, Director. The French Incident, as it was called by the Burial Agency of the Holy Church..."


56 hours earlier, a town in the countryside of France.

On Christmas eve, the world ended for a girl.

At the beginning of the night, when the sun fell below the horizon, the girl was staying comfortably in bed, wondering whether or not she'll attend the Christmas mass tomorrow when she realized the cafe her parents ran that should be bustling with activity was oddly quiet. Getting out of bed, the girl walked out of her room and stood at the top of the stairs going to the first floor, calling out to her father.

No reply. Without a second thought, the girl walked down the stairs and stepped into a nightmare.

The usually busy cafe was painted scarlet with human blood, decorated with chunks of flesh, and sprinkled with white fragments of bones.

The girl could not understand what was happening, her mind could not compute the scene in front of her. She could not fully conceptualize that the scene in front of her was real instead of something from a horror movie.

The next thing she realized, the girl had dropped to the floor, her arms and knees covered in blood as she puked extensively, emptying her stomach like an animal emptying its contents so it could run faster.

The burning of her throat prevented the girl from screaming. In the distance, the girl could hear cheers coming from the town square.

It was a congratulatory cheer, like the one you'd use to celebrate an achievement.

Running out of the store, the girl desperately sought answers to this question. What is happening?

The answers came in the form of a pile of burning bodies in the middle of the town square, and the ringing of Church bells permeated throughout the madness, acting like the orchestra to a play.

Ah, the world was ending, the girl realized.

Creatures that were once human ran down the streets, chasing those who remain as humans.

The girl could not scream and be thus ignored by the monsters as she escaped. Since it isn't safe within the town, the girl figured that her parents, if they are alive, must be outside of it.

Thankfully, the town was rather small, so the girl won't have to run for too long.

However, as she got close to the edge of the town, running past many piles of monsters that were ganging up on humans who were screaming for help, the girl found that the whole settlement was surrounded by a never-seen-before wall of at least ten meters in height.

At the base of the wall was a crowd of adults and children. The girl saw a glimpse of her mother, so she ran towards the group before being grabbed by the arm.

Just as she was about to scream, a hand covered her mouth as she was forced back into an alleyway between two houses. The owner of the hand was the attractive eastern exchange student she saw earlier in the day.

Seeing that he was making shushing sounds, the girl nodded, and the hand was removed from her mouth.

"Why did you stop me?" The girl asked, "my mom is in there!"

The student was silent. He continued to observe the crowd from behind the building like a stalker.

"The crowd of people is bound to attract attention." He said. The girl, still in shock, accepted his words.

Following his example, the girl continued to observe the situation as well. She saw that more and more adults, teens, and adults with children were coming to the wall, having successfully fled the blood-soaked city.

After about a hundred more people gathered around the wall, something came up from the ground behind them.

It was another wall.

The wall came up, blocking out the girl's view of the people.

There was now a second wall inside the first one.

She could barely hear the shouting anymore because of how tall the second wall was.

Moments later, the wall moved.

The stone rumbled, and the inner wall moved towards the outer wall, crushing the crowd of people between it.

The screams would normally horrify the girl, but tonight has made her numb to such things.

With a loud sound of colliding stone as if saying 'it is done', freshly squeezed blood came up from the top like smoke billowing out of a chimney.

Her stomach feel sick, but it already emptied its content. On top of the wall were shadows of titanic figures. Those silhouettes then quickly faded away like a ghost that's been caught on camera.

"We... we should probably go." The boy said as he tugged on the girl's hand.

The girl simply followed. Every about her felt numb. She feels that tonight was a bad dream, a nightmare that she'll awaken from. Perhaps she did fall asleep?

The girl was directionless, only following the boy like a lost puppy.

Before they could walk more than a few city blocks, they encountered a horde of walking corpses. Turning around, the pair found that around five meters away were more corpses.

They were surrounded.

The boy clutched the girl's hand tightly, as though deciding their next move. He looked up and down the girl's body with a grim look.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

Before she could ask what he meant, the boy pushed the girl away, causing her to tumble down to her bum in the middle of the street, "Hey! Monsters! There's a delicious girl here! Take it!"

He ran towards the other edge of the street near the houses while the girl sat at the center, simply staring at the boy whom she once had a crush on.

Ah... the girl realized. In retrospect, it made sense. When the world is ending, there was no selflessness. God picks the prettiest flowers first from His garden after all, so that must mean the boy was a really ugly flower to have survived this long.

Ironically, instead of going for the girl, the horde went to the boy instead, having shouted to attract their attention.

A feeling of spiteful justice ran through the girl's mind, relishing in his screams.

Once he was torn apart, the horde turned their attention to the girl. She closed her eyes, accepting what was about to come.

"Mom, I'm coming—"

*Bzzzzzzzz*

Her hair fluttered in a sudden breeze, and sounds of flesh going through a rotating saw caused the girl to open her eyes.

"Wha...?"

In front of her, where the horde had stood, was another woman in her late teens. She wore clothing that reminds the girl of English Nobility and a pair of glasses, her right hand gleamed as it reflected the distant fire, showing that it was metal instead of flesh.

Despite being over two meters away, the women seem to tower over the fallen girl. The walking corpses that once seemed overpowering were now reduced to chunks of flesh as though multiple sword swipes had gone through them. What's most striking about the woman was that, even though she stood in the middle of a bloodbath, her clothing was not stained by crimson.

The woman turned to look at the girl, allowing the latter to notice how the woman had her hair done in a simple ponytail.

The woman then yawned.

She yawned as if she was bored.

Her guardian angel yawned in the face of the apocalypse.

It was such a surprising and out-of-place action that it caused the girl to chuckle.

The angel seemed confused at how the girl was laughing, not realizing how ridiculous someone— anyone— was yawning at the end of the world was funny.

Voices of groaning snapped the girl out of her laughter. Down the street was another group of quickly approaching monsters that were once humans.

Her angel casually took off her glasses and turned her head to face the coming horde. Without moving a single muscle—

*Splurt*

—The horde was rendered into more chunks of inactive flesh. A field of inanimated corpses.

"Stay here. Do not move a step." Her voice was authoritative, leaving no room for rejection.

So the girl simply nodded.

The angel then dropped a single slip of paper with an odd marking next to her before leaping away, jumping up dozens of meters before falling down like vengeance incarnate, ready to wreak havoc against the monsters.

The girl watched the fleeing form of her guardian angel. Does she not have wings to fly with?

The sounds of slaughter continued.


Now

"... I search the city for any Dead Apostle Ancestors but turned mostly empty aside from the Serpent of Akasha in the body of a blue-haired teen, whom I promptly terminated permanently using a piece of the True Cross. I managed to acquire the Anomaly's Idea Blood but was forced to give it up when the White Princess arrived and demanded I give it to her. Overall, there were only a small handful of survivors across the small town. The Church should have no problem covering this up considering the number of extremists they employ."

I finished recounting my story. My posture stood firm like a mountain, never changing. I never fidgeted once during my recounting of the events, because if I did then it would be a massive embarrassment for my pride as a perfectionist.

Next, I held my breath and waited for the Director's response. I can't lie, I may be reprimanded harshly for this. I was in the middle of a meeting with the head of the Animusphere family to discuss potentially making a new vampire hunting organization when I received a message from my French contact telling me of a large gathering of Dead Apostle Ancestors in France.

I blitzed out of that room without saying a word as a woman possessed, my crusade against the Dead Apostles will never rest nor end until all of them are dead.

"The Animusphere family haven't launched a complaint to me about your actions—"

I let out a quiet, imperceptible sigh of relief.

"—But, this cannot happen again. Marisbury is one of the rare Lords who would overlook this incident. Just imagine the uproar if it was Lord El-Melloi whom you walked out on."

I grimaced internally while my face remained unmoving. After the fall of the Barthomeloi, the Aristocratic faction of the Clock Tower splintered without the might of my family to keep it together. The supporting families fought amongst each other to be the new leading family.

Last I checked, the conflict is still ongoing with the El-Mellois in the lead.

Suppressing the anger I have for the backstabbing turncoats, I used one of my many pre-prepared excuses that would hint at my displeasure.

The policy of the Barthomeloi clan was that a battle should be won even as it was preceding so that loss is never a possibility. Thus, to counter any surprises and ensure absolute victory within a verbal battle, I crafted a pool of excuses that can be launched at a moment's notice to deflect any possible counterattack.

"I recognize that. That's why I specifically did it to the Animusphere. They aided me in the aftermath of the massacre of my family."

"I see," said the Director, "then what about that girl? In all of your hunts, you never protected a single human, preferring to kill the Dead Apostle in question as quickly and efficiently as possible. Now I hear from your lips that you took your time to, what, put up a Bounded Field to protect that girl?"

"..." I have no counter.

Now that he pointed it out, it is weird to me how I intentionally went out of my way to save that girl...

Thankfully, with Thought Acceleration being one of the many spells within the Barthomeloi magic crest, I could quickly recall that memory in a fraction of a second.

I remember, when I saw that girl just sitting there on the street, devoid of hope with a horde of Dead approaching her... something inside me compelled my body to move. Normally, for such weak undead, I would just use my mystic eyes, but since the girl was within my sightlines, I had to use a Vacuum Blade spell instead.

Looking down at her sitting there lifelessly, it hit a bit too close to home.

She... was just like me that night over a decade ago, but without the Mystic Eyes of Determinism or the family crest to fight back. I could almost imagine myself in her position. My old memory called the feeling, 'empathy', except that can't be right.

A Dead Apostle attack leaves plenty of such hopeless people, yet never once did I feel compelled to help any of them.

As the social limit to how long a pause between two conversationalists was reached, I quickly came up with an acceptable answer.

"I saw potential in her. I could mold her into my right hand." 'Just like how you molded me' went unsaid, but he clearly knows what I'm referring to.

I owe the Director a debt of gratitude I couldn't possibly repay in one lifetime.

I was the only Barthomeloi alive after Altrouge's attack. I was valuable, either for my Blue Blood magic circuits or for the Barthomeloi's magic crest embedded in my body. Every day I had to deal with mages who tried to get me a Sealing Designation, or hired assassins who'll try to kill me. I almost thought about accepting one of the marriage proposals coming from one of the houses before the Director stepped in and placed me under his wing.

Thusly, what also went unsaid was independence. Just as how no other family interfered with me after the Director stepped in, I don't want anyone interfering with the girl.

"Very well, but should you really be bringing a mundane into the Moonlit World? What kind of precedent do you think that'll set where the Vice-Director and Wizard Marshal bring in a normal person into the fold?"

My mind already knew the answer.

The members of the Aristocratic faction would undoubtedly point toward how this act further cemented the downfall of the Barthomeloi. I think it would be impossible for me to rejoin that faction within my generation, much less lead it again. The Democratic faction hates our family's gut for being the old head of the Aristocratic faction, so their opinion matters little. The Neutral faction isn't even worth mentioning.

I was faced with a difficult choice. I'm already on thin ice for integrating technology into the Extermination Brigade.

In the grand scheme of things, that girl is extremely insignificant. Between rebuilding the Barthomeloi family back to its previous glory or bringing the girl into the fold, I would always prioritize the former. Yet I feel like it would be irresponsible of me to just leave her.

Moreover, the Director is definitely testing me.

Without missing a beat, "I'll give her a choice of whether or not she'll join the Moonlit World. If she doesn't, I'll remove her memories before dropping her off at a well-vetted orphanage in Paris during my next meeting with Cardinal Laurentis in two days. If she does join, I'll say that she came from a very distant branch of the Barthomeloi. Plenty of people have left the Barthomeloi family over the two millennias of our existence, no one would raise an eye if the current head brought in a distant family member."

You know, I can still recall the pride I had for being part of something that's older than the Common Era. Even when I finally remembered my past life, that pride of being a part of living history never ceased.

I can feel the Director nodding along as I spoke despite not seeing it, "well done, Lorelei. That should definitely silence the Aristocratic faction."

I felt a dash of delight course through my body like a child that's just been complimented by their parents for a good job. Compliments from the Director have always been rare, so it's a bit of an ego boost whenever I do get one.

I'm not a child I swear. Could a child slay almost half a dozen Dead Apostle Ancestors?

"Is there anything more I should know about the French Incident?"

I shook my head. "None, Director," the atmosphere in the room was much friendlier than before.

"Dismissed."

I turned and walked out of Director's office. Once I'm out of the door, I was greeted with the sight of a hallway filled with large paintings and knight armors that are positioned in such a way as to suggest they were part of a procession.

They're a type of golem magecraft. The hallway was layered with ancient bounded fields dating back to the Age of Heroes that are normally imperceptible to the human senses. Even most magus wouldn't even be able to detect the bounded field.

As I walked past these armors, my posture remained tight. As the most powerful modern magus and Grand-ranked at that, I must put on a facade of supremacy, elitism, and unapproachability, as if telling other people that they're below me. It certainly helped that I won't be pestered by overly ambitious mages and their propositions.

However, a most unpleasant sight caused an uncontrollable sneer to appear on my lips. My mood soured immensely as my composure broke.

Kischer Zelretch Schweinorg, the Second Magician, one of the only other Wizard Marshal, and most importantly; a Dead Apostle.

I felt my fist tighten as he entered the hallway and approached, probably to have a talk with the Director. I can't kill him, he's too powerful for me at the moment. Therefore, I did the next best thing and quickly walked past him.

It doesn't matter who it is, they can be as kind as Mother Teresa or the next Hitler, so long as they are a Dead Apostle, I will kill them eventually. I will end the existence known as vampires.

Finally, I reached the double door that was on the opposite end of the hallway. As I turn the knob, my facade broke for a few moments as I took in a deep, calming breath, reining in my hatred for all Dead Apostles.

The room I kept the girl in was at the edge of the campus student dorms, in an unassigned room. I can't have a mundane being seen wandering around the Clock Tower.

The primary academic building of the Clock Tower is situated under Big Ben, tentatively housing the First Department. Around this center and spread throughout the entirety of London lies the other eleven departments that configure themselves into something resembling a college town the size of a city. With 40 student dormitories and well over a hundred research laboratories, the Clock Tower is truly the largest gathering of the mystical and unknown.

The dormitory where I placed the girl was near the edge of the Clock Tower's college town. That specific dorm is styled around an exposed open-air garden, like one of those roman houses. Composed mostly of scions of newer mage families desperate to climb the ladder of the Association, I simply need to tell them that I was never here and they'll obey.

As I strode across the campus, many mages gave me a wide berth as I passed by. Some had fear in their eyes, others reverence, more than a few jealous, and one or two with disdain. I wonder if this is what dictators experience as they walk down the streets of their capital.

After half an hour of walking, I reached my destination.

As I entered the exposed hallway surrounding the inner garden, the few students that were chatting stopped and stared at me. Without acknowledging their stares, I trekked up the stairs to the third floor and stopped by the third door to the left, one leading to a supposedly empty room.

Looking around and finding no one, I released the magical lock I had in place and pushed in the door, getting inside and closing it behind me as I entered.

"..."

The girl whom I rescued was a brunette with much lighter brown eyes compared to myself.

She sat upright in her bed, staring blankly at me. Laying next to her on the nightstand was an enchanted glass of refilling freshwater and a plate with barely eaten bread.

Her room was of a single queen-sized bed, unlike the other rooms which are filled with bunk beds. There's a writing table off to the side and a walk-in closet for any potential clothing that a magus might bring. Rays of light shone through the opened windows as I made sure not to have the girl feel trapped when she woke up.

I crossed my arms as the girl stared on. I'm going to need to translate certain magical terms to mundane ones, then translate those from English to French.

Thankfully due to my upbringing, I can speak fluently in over a dozen languages.

"Before I ask you a question, I feel like you should know my name." I said in French and waited for any reaction, only to find none, "I am Lorelei Barthomeloi, and I wish to ask you a question, Noel C—"

Noel shook her head violently just as I was about to say her last name.

"... just Noel then." Seeing her nod, I took that as affirmation, "Noel, what you experienced two days ago is a vampire attack. You have two choices in front of you and I would respect your wishes either way; you can return to the mundane world, I will remove your bad memory of what happened, drop you off at a properly vetted orphanage, and live out the remainder of your natural life, or you can choose the more dangerous option and fully embrace the magical side of the world. If you choose the latter, I will take you on as an apprentice, but I will not lie to you, it will be hard."

I wait for her answer. Honestly, most mundanes would definitely prefer to stay ignorant. There's a reason why they say ignorance is a blessing.

The girl then pointed at me.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You... want to join the magical side of the world?" I hesitantly ask, showing a tiny bit of vulnerability.

The girl nodded. Her hands then made gestures that point to her wanting to write on something.

I reached within my beige trench coat and took out a small booklet about the size of my hand with pens. Noel looked befuddled at how something as large as that booklet could fit inside my trench coat while not making any visible bulges.

Giving it to her, Noel's hand became almost a blur as she wrote on the open booklet.

{Yes, I do want to join the magical side} She turned the booklet around and showed it to me.

Crossing my arms, I tried one more time at dissuasion, "You realize that it will be hard correct? I am a hard teacher."

Noel nodded, writing, {I don't want to be weak anymore}

My arms dropped to my side, "your training starts at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Rest for today."


13 years later, Souya City.

The soft sound of raindrops hitting the car's roof was oddly soothing. One can easily fall asleep if combined with the vibration of the vehicle as it travels across the paved road.

Well, the desire to sleep could be due to the 11-hour plane ride I was just on. Even for one such as me who uses an Uberman sleep schedule, jetlag is a major problem when traveling across the world.

The limo stopped moving as it reached the front gate of the Tohno Residence. The door opened moments later and the limo continued.

On both sides of the bricked road were two curtains of trees, slowly parting away to reveal the Tohno mansion like the opening to a play.

Swirling around and stopping by the steps of the mansion, I was greeted by the sight of a maid in a brown dress, holding a large umbrella while standing by the large main door.

The red-haired maid quickly came down from the steps and opened the limo door right beside me.

"Barthomolei-sama," the maid greeted in Japanese as she bowed, holding the umbrella over the crack between the car door and frame so as to prevent any rain from falling upon a guest's body, "Welcome to the Tohno Residence. Tohno-sama will see you in a bit."

I stepped out of the car and the smell of wet forest hit my nose. A single glance at the mansion told me more information than any online research could possibly net me.

There are many angry spirits in this place. Violent ends must be a commonality around here.

They indeed are a family of half-demons.

As I walked, the maid followed closely behind with the umbrella.

Once I neared the door, it slid open as another maid peaked over the edge to stare at me.

Ignoring that maid like it was second nature and striding inside, I crossed my arms as I took in the lobby.

The floor was covered with fine red carpets, a chandelier connecting to the ceiling, mahogany railings, and there was a large grand staircase connecting to the second floor that dominate the room.

"Barthomeloi-sama, please use these slippers." The maid that carried the umbrella now held a pair of rubber slippers in her hand.

It would be terribly rude not to obey logical house rules. So I took off my tall brown boots and placed them beside the door. The maid then carefully placed the slipper on the ground as though they were the most fragile thing in the world.

As I slid my feet in, the other maid— the one who opened the door and I had just noticed was wearing a kimono— bowed again in my presence. Between her hands was a sliver tray filled with plates that individually carried different pastries, "Barthomeloi-sama, you must be famished after a long journey. Please enjoy these snacks."

"Hmm," I took a napkin and used it as a type of glove, grabbed a small cake, and started taking small bites out of it.

In fluent Japanese, "This is pineapple cake..."

"Kohaku, Barthomeloi-sama. And yes, it is pineapple cake."

"Hmm." 'Kohaku', translates to amber. Based on how similar this Kohaku looked to the more silent maid, one could easily deduce they're sisters.

Kohaku then guides me to the first-floor living room, asking me to sit down on the sofa and enjoy the snacks while she prepares some tea.

Her tea was rather good, at least equal to the tea most of my own servants could serve. If she could make tea this good in their late teen, I could only imagine how good her tea must be if I sent her to a proper maid university in England.

It took about another hour before the sister maid came in, "Barthomeloi-sama, please follow me. Tohno-sama is ready to see you." The sister of Kohaku said as they bowed respectfully once more.

I quickly finished the cup of tea and followed the more reserved maid up the stairs and to the right. I was led into what must've been the head of the Tohno family's office.

The Tohno office is filled with dark mahogany furniture like chairs, coffee tables, and writing desks, decorated richly with historical artifacts and other expensive things you'd typically see in the office of a rich aristocrat like old paintings or other antiques.

This is designed to show off the wealth to whom the office belonged, to show the guest how much power this Tohno must possess. Something I'm all too familiar with when dealing with the older families of the Clock Tower.

And compared to them, these orientals are a pathetic imitation. There's only a half-assed Bounded Field within this office.

"Greetings Lady Barthomeloi, I hope your travel was smooth?"

"It was smooth." I simply said as I moved to sit down on a seat I moved so that it's facing the left wall. It's a subtle power play, saying that since I'm not facing you I'm not giving you attention.

As I sat down, however, I cast a quick glance at the newest head of the Tohno household: SHIKI Tohno. SHIKI as in, 'four seasons'.

SHIKI had short black hair trimmed to a sharp end. He has blue eyes and is currently wearing a western-style black and grey suit. Height-wise, he's over half a head taller than me.

I think in my past life I was taller than him.

The most noticeable thing about him was that he was exceedingly young.

I mean, I'm considered an irregular. The Barthomeloi have plenty of ways to preserve their youth, so I wasn't expected to take over until I'm at least 40. And even when I do take over, tradition dictates the previous head would still retain an advisor role until either their mind becomes unfit or they are killed in action.

The maids brought cups of fresh tea for both of us.

What remains of my past life's memory indicated how stereotypical it is for a British to drink tea, but I found myself preferring the stronger taste of coffee, black if possible. Unlike normal people who sleep through the night, I use an Uberman sleep schedule, and in case the six 20-minute nap wasn't enough, the bitterness paired with caffeine will help give me a jolt of soberness.

Admittedly, it is also very stereotypical for a rich East Asian to drink tea.

I raised the teacup with well-practiced mannerism befitting of only the highest of Nobility.

Taking a sip, I found myself drinking the light and grassy flavor of Oolong tea.

Discreetly, SHIKI used eye signals to direct the maids to leave.

A morbid thought crossed my mind before I dismissed it. I'm here in Souya for two things, nothing more, nothing less.

SHIKI's eyes hardened as I placed my teacup down on the table, "So what does the Vice-Director of the Clock Tower want with me?"

"Straight to business then." I like these types of people. They're efficient. I turned my upper body to fully face him, "I want your notes on demon blood."

"...notes on demon blood?"

I stared unflinchingly into his blue eyes, "The Tohnos are a family of half-demons. Whenever a Tohno is born, your Kami-sama flips a coin. If it's head, the Tohno has weak demon blood and could live a normal life. If tails, the Tohno in question will gradually lose their sanity and become something resembling the extinct phantasmal species known as Onis."

The power dynamic instantly shifted in my favor. SHIKI probably isn't too aware of the Moonlit World, thus he equally doesn't know what me being the Vice-Director of the Clock Tower truly meant.

They're most likely aware that the Tohsaka next door in Fuyuki is a family of mages, most likely, but considering how closed-loop the demon and their demon hunter societies are, it's a miracle how the Tohsakas and the Fujous managed to avoid being compared to demons by the Demon Hunter Organization.

I leaned in on my left arm, away from SHIKI as if to give him the microphone.

Check.

The gears turned inside SHIKI's head, "I will not have you infect another innocent with our curse. I know how you mages work. My father had to deal with a few mages that decided to use the people of Souya as their materials. The answer is no."

This was certainly a surprise, the head of a family who hates their gift.

My mind then moved to think of a way to get him to budge.

A lure should be sufficient. If a lure isn't enough, then a live demonstration.

A battle should be won even as it's preceding.

"That can be negotiated. Let's say that I have a... a thing that would allow one to retain their mind even as their body became out of control, would that be sufficient?"

The young man then glared at me. "I don't believe you."

I felt an urge to laugh. It's been a while since I've ever had someone challenge me so brazenly.

Beating that urge to laugh down to a mere smirk of superiority, I reached inside my clothing and took out one of the remaining ancient Barthomeloi mystic codes that survived Altrouge's assault.

It was a lock of deep brown hair.

"This is a mystic code. It's a lock of ancient Miko hair that would reverse the Inversion Impulse of a human. It was crafted by my ancestor Variadritch Barthomeloi when he visited an island in the far east during the Dark Ages."

In Shintoism, Miko or Shrine Maidens are to serve as a spiritual medium for possession. According to the notes made by Variadritch, the Inversion Impulse is spiritual in nature, thus he made this mystic code to lock away his lover's Inversion Impulse so that they may live together without worry.

He and their children were murdered by her after the Inversion Impulse grew too strong for the hair to handle. In the end, Variadritch's items were collected by that era's Barthomeloi head.

SHIKI's eyes held deep suspicion. A demonstration is required then.

"You don't believe me. Then a demonstration is in order." Imagining an urge to kill, my Blue Blood magic circuits instinctively turned on.

The air around me started heating up. Knowing that something was happening, SHIKI instantly got up, loudly pushing his chair back.

It won't matter.

Within Variadritch's notes was a particular spell that he developed in tandem with the Demon Hunter Organization so that they'll leave him and his demon-blooded wife alone.

It was a spell that would trigger an Inversion Impulse early.

"Felis Instinctu."

The effect was instantaneous. SHIKI collapsed to the floor, his writing table blocking much of what I could see as he started transforming. What the table couldn't block was his screams of pain.

I recalled reading Variadritch's notes saying that it'll take an average of 13 seconds for a person to fully Invert using that spell.

I sat back on the chair and waited patiently for him to transform, taking a quick sip of the given tea.

Best not to waste this top-quality Oolong in the ensuing fight.

The door behind me burst open. A girl with long black hair and equally blue eyes stood at the doorframe.

That's probably SHIKI's sister.

"Brother!" She cried out in distress. As she tried to approach the fallen head of the Tohno family, I caught her right arm with my free gauntlet hand since my other one was currently occupied with tea drinking.

"What are you doing?!" The sister tried to shake out of my clutch, but my grip was unbreakable, "let me go!"

"Cease."

Using a mental command spell had caused the girl to cease her struggling. Standing completely still until I had her move to the right side of me behind the table. Just in case.

*Thump*

A chalk-white hand came up from below the table. Using that as leverage, SHIKI, now fully consumed by his Inversion Impulse, arose from behind the table.

His once black hair turned white, and his eyes now bore a hateful red. His mouth curled into a snarl, baring his teeth like an animal that's on the hunt for prey.

SHIKI looked at me before turning to his sister as though deciding she was a better target.

As he move to leap across the room at his sister, I finally got up from my seat and threw the young girl back at the wall all the while using my rotating momentum and slamming the teacup into SHIKI's head.

*Whack*

With the advanced Reinforcement magecraft of the Barthomeloi magic crest, that teacup was harder than diamond. It left quite a wound on the right side of SHIKI's face, disorientating him immensely.

I casually approached him and pushed down on his head. "Recover."

Combined with his naturally high regeneration due to having demon blood and that healing spell, it should take no more than a few minutes for the wound to fully heal.

I then wrap that lock of Miko's hair onto his right wrist.

Near instantly, signs of his Inversion Impulse receded. His hair turned back to black, his skin became a much healthier shade and color, and his eyes should return to blue the moment he opens them.

I stepped back onto my seat, silently releasing his sister from her mental command.

The air felt cool as my magic circuits deactivated.

"Brother!" Immediately, the girl rushed to her brother's side, trying to help him but didn't know how exactly.

Raising his hand, SHIKI stopped his sister in her tracks as the young man pushed himself up.

"Is that enough evidence?" I asked knowing full well how SHIKI knows I could just take it. Of course, I won't do such a thing, it would tarnish the name of the Barthomeloi.

SHIKI glared at me before looking over to his sister, then down at the lock of Miko's hair on his right wrist.

He looked like he sucked on a lemon with how thin his lips are. A new mask was placed over SHIKI's face as he smiled gently while turning to his sister, "Akiha, that was nothing, please leave—"

"No Brother, that clearly wasn't just 'nothing'."

"Akiha."

Using a sterner tone, Akiha relented. Akiha, meaning 'autumn leaf' in English. Personally, it would've fit her better if she had red hair.

Akiha quickly left the room as SHIKI returned his fallen executive chair upright and sat upon it.

He obviously wants to kick me out and forbid me from ever returning, but with the balance of power strictly in my favor, the head of the Tohno household has no choice but to acquiesce to my demand.

Opening a desk drawer, SHIKI took out a key, before using that key to unlock another drawer and taking out a dusty old book whose pages have became a light shade of yellow. "This is all the notes about demon blood my old man has made. That the Tohno household has made. I don't know what made you want with it, but please don't spread the demon blood to your children."

I cast a smile on my face as I took the book. Flipping through it, I was internally stumped as the notes were all in Japanese.

Troublesome. I can speak Japanese but my reading of the language is scattered at best.

However, before I could browse the notebook more, my pager rang.

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Unlike other magus, I do own a phone, and the Barthomeloi mansion has been modernized extensively. However, other magi within the Extermination Brigade aren't familiar with things like smartphones so I'm forced to use 1980s technology to slowly introduce the Brigade members to modern commodities.

Something serious must've come up for Noel to page me.

I closed the notebook before approaching the windows that are behind SHIKI. The young man tensed for a moment before I placed the notebook on his table.

"Something came up. I'll be back." I said as I opened the window and imagined an urge to kill.

My body heated up slightly as my magic circuits were active once more.

Before SHIKI could try and stop me, I jumped out of the window.

Flying used to be a True Magic before the Wright brothers gave humanity wings. After that, it became a magecraft. My father was one of the first magus to pioneer flight magecraft, so right before I hit the grassy ground of Tohno mansion's courtyard, I stopped and started hovering like a helicopter.

Normally, flying is impractical due to how much magical energy it needs. However, if one reduces their weight using magecraft and then flies, they can get a lot more mileage.

Even so, it normally would be impossible for use in any practical setting had it not been for my Blue Blood magic circuits, the highest quality possible for magic circuits.

I blasted off at 200 kilometers an hour towards downtown Souya.

It took around 10 minutes of flight for me to see massive columns of smoke billowing out of the streets. The Dead, some were literally on fire, ran from the burning streets towards the living. Police officers lined up to shoot but their guns could only stagger instead of kill.

All the while this was happening I wondered if this Dead Apostle went mad. Do they want every Executor of the Holy Church bearing down on them?

The only reason the French Incident could occur was due to it being a congregation of multiple Ancestors. If there were multiple Dead Apostle Ancestors within Souya the whole city would've already been turned into a fucking blood bag, just like that town.

So as I approached from above, I took off my Mystic Eye Killers, closed my right eye, and used the Mystic Eyes of Dislocation in the other.

*Splurt*

In an instant, all the Dead inside my sight fell apart, their limbs, their bodies, all fell apart like Jenga towers. The roads next to where the Dead had stood were also carved up as though a knife had gone through them.

The Mystic Eyes of Dislocation is something I crafted from the Idea Blood coming from one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors I managed to slay during Altrouge's assault. Imagine everything you see is a picture, now use a scissor to cut off chunks of that picture, that is how Dislocation works; wherever the 'scissor' cuts are projected into reality.

It's useful for getting rid of the underlings of a Dead Apostle Ancestor, acting like a giant filter that removes all but the Ancestor themselves.

Inadvertently, I also killed the nearby officers.

I can almost feel what little was left of my conscious crying before it was snuffed out.

Doesn't matter.

Deactivating flight magecraft, I drifted to the ground and started walking towards the center of this inferno with my head held high.

Even in times of crisis, a Barthomeloi should always have their head held up high.

I walked past the carcasses of what used to be humans, the flames in the nearby building painted everything a bright shade of red, rendering blood all but invisible to the naked eye.

Another horde approaches down the road.

I raised my left hand and snapped my fingers.

"Ventus."

A simple wall of air pressure washed down the road, cleaning the streets of any undead as well as blowing out the nearby fires. My eyes had to take a few moments to adjust as a whole city block had just gone dark once more, with more raging fires in the distance serving as something akin to the lure of an anglerfish, baiting me to come deeper.

I continued my movement and only stopped when a peculiar sight came to my attention.

In an alleyway branching off the main street, there was another teen around SHIKI's age expertly wielding a knife and doing actually pretty well against about a dozen undead.

I was half tempted to just leave the kid before seeing said 'kid' dispatch multiple undead in quick succession.

He's not a mundane then. Perhaps he'll have some information.

"Inanis Aer"

*Bzzzzzzzzzz*

An invisible Vacuum Blade extended from my right forearm and down the back of my metal gauntlet. Moving fast enough to get a ticket on the freeway, I blitzed towards the group of undead and butchered them with a single swing.

The kid seemed almost shocked at how I killed all the Dead in the area with a single swipe.

"Y—you're Noel's teacher!" He blurted out in Japanese, "quick! Noel's all alone with an Ancestor! She's at the center of that inferno—"

I was gone before the boy had finished.

Blazing down the road towards the center of this disaster, I simply ran through any undead unfortunate enough to be in my path.

An Ancestor? Here? I knew that there have been killings in Souya where the victim had their blood drained completely, so one can easily see that it's the work of a Dead Apostle.

But an Ancestor? And she's fighting against them?

I wanted Noel to get more field experience, but I trained her to be able to take on at most Stage VI Lesser Dead Apostles, not a fucking Stage IX Ancestor!

I felt panicked, Noel would get slaughtered if it was an Ancestor!

As I reached deeper and deeper into the inferno, the fires intriguingly started to become smaller.

Very soon, the dark night held dominion once more as the temperatures hit below freezing.

I recognize this; the freezing, it belonged to that upstart in the 27 Dead Apostle Ancestors, Vlov Arkhangel, the one who killed Zaria Offenbaum and took her place.

The temperature became as cold as Antarctica in the summer as I reached where the origin point of the inferno should've been.

Vlov, currently wearing clothing befitting of a Dark Age Nobility, stood in the middle of a destroyed multi-lane cross-section. In the vampire's hands was a long, white lance.

The buildings around this metropolitan square are burnt-out husks of their former selves. Blacken corpses strung about on the ground, and a layer of white frost had settled over everything like snow in Siberia.

And Noel... Noel stood near the edge of the cross-section. She was hunched over, using her halberd as support, puffs of white condensed air can be seen coming out of her mouth. Her clothing, the protective mystic code I gave her that's currently in the image of a Holy Woman, had visible tears on them.

That idiotic girl. She really did try and fight against an Ancestor.

"NOEL!" I yelled out to her, causing a panicked look to appear on Noel's face, "What the hell are you doing? I thought you already know the protocol when it comes to Dead Apostle Ancestors!"

"T—teacher! Now isn't a good time—"

"Don't talk back to me. I want an exact timeline of how exactly this occurred." My tone was rigid as I strode over to her position.

Some pathetic ice spears coming from Vlov tried to pierce me, only to get turned into a fine icy mist once their tip reached half a meter away.

Vlov is just pathetic. He's a member of the 27 Dead Apostle Ancestors by technicality alone, as he stole Zaria Offenbaum's Idea Blood when he rebelled. I only learned of this development 9 years ago when I hunted down Be'ze, the 25th of the 27 Dead Apostle Ancestors, who asked me to kill this dishonorable student of his with his dying breath.

I turned my face towards Vlov, giving him what was probably the only time when he would have my full attention.

Like a gazelle caught in the sight of a lion, Vlov freezes when I fix him a glare.

"I'm talking. Stop acting like a petulant child and wait your turn."

My focus returned to Noel, who was looking very guilty. And very cold.

Activating the Barthomeloi magic crest, I murmured out a warming spell.

The frost in her immediate area melted.

"Oooooooh, that felt much better." Noel moaned out.

"Hmph. There's a reason why unless you have 10 other members of the Brigade with you, I instructed you to leave any Ancestors you find alone."

Vlov then tried to rush me with a giant fancy lance you'd use in jousting, the length of the lance was about 5-meters. Once the tip of the lance was half a meter away from touching my physical self, it stopped.

Vlov then pushed the lance even further, finally managing to pierce through the first Bounded Field.

Bah, Nrvnqsr Chaos, the last Ancestor I killed, could at least pierce through three layers of Bounded Field with a single strike.

Without even acknowledging Vlov's existence, I raised my gauntlet hand and—

"Ventus."

—A torrent of air pressure blasted out of my hand and towards a Dead Apostle that was too slow to get out of the way.

"Aaaaaaaaargh!"

He was spread across an area larger than a baseball diamond.

If he can't get up from that simple spell, he doesn't deserve to be called an Ancestor.

My arms crossed themselves as I looked at Noel expectantly, "well?"

"Umm, after we split at the airport, I went to one of the police stations and asked around using persuasion magecraft if there were any strange killings. As it turns out, there's a serial killer on the loose with the moniker 'modern-day vampire' that leaves their victims devoid of any blood. I first looked underground in the metro area to check for any Dead Apostle activity before running into another teen—"

So that teen, the one who I met in that alleyway.

"—who was also investigating the killings. I was about to knock him out before he terminated some undead in the tunnel with a knife quicker than any human should. After a bit of talking, I allowed— I mean, I permitted him to cooperate in this Dead Apostle terminating operation. The Dead Apostle in question then decided to go for a goddamn direct assault without any discretion, and so we quickly surfaced to fight against the vampire's Deads."

As Noel continued describing the timeline, the grating noise of Vlov's heavy breathing was grinding against my nerve.

"As you can see, things went out of control. Like, WAY out of control."

Noel then turned to a beaten and battered Vlov, having finally regenerated his form. His clothing on the other hand was in pieces, the only thing that wasn't in pieces was his gigantic lance.

This probably will need some serious cover-up. Dear god, I'll need to spend the next week here searching and then hypnotizing mundanes to pass this incident off as a gas leak or maybe a terrorist attack.

An arson attack will probably be more accurate.

I felt frustration rise up from within my mind as I took a deep breath and sighed. Unlike in my past life, I can't just express any anger whenever I want. I have to stay elegant and dignified, as befitting of a Barthomeloi even when no one is watching.

Noel looked between Vlov and me, probably wondering who she should be more nervous about.

"Be right back, I need some stress relief." I turned to face Vlov once more. "I'll end this quickly."

I observed the now-fully healed vampire. He was standing completely still about 50 meters away down one of the streets that connect to this square.

Mumbling out a temperature spell showed how the air around Vlov was near absolute zero. Be'ze did reveal that Zaria's Idea Blood was about Freezing, so all this frost here is most likely the result of his inherited Idea Blood.

A tree made out of ice grew from behind Vlov's back. That tree then shattered into dozens of icicle spear-like projectiles each at least the size of my arm.

What is he—

The spears then moved, and Vlov launched them at Noel behind me.

"Undam Ignis"

Using a fire spell from my magic crest, a tiny flicker of flame was alight at the center of my right hand. As the projectiles neared, I drew my hand back before swinging it.

*BWWWWOOOOOOOOOOSSSH*

Fire hot enough to instantly melt steel into a runny liquid erupted as a literal wall vaporizes every ice projectile launched by Vlov.

My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark as the flames disappeared.

I saw how the frost that once permeated the whole square was now gone, and sounds of water dripping down the blackened husks of buildings were audible even from where I'm standing.

This failure of an Ancestor just tried to force me to get close or be faced with a continuous barrage of ice projectiles.

That infuriating trade reminded me of some memories I'd rather forget.

"Scream for me. Torrens Ignis."

*BBBUWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSH*

An overwhelming torrent of fire surged from my outstretched right hand towards Vlov like a snake striking its prey. As the torrent approached, a blast of extremely cold air tried unsuccessfully to vanquish the flames by stilling the air molecules that make up the flames themselves.

"Aaa...aaaaarrrrrgh..." I couldn't see Vlov because the fire was blocking my view, but hearing him scream caused a smile to form on my lips.

I continuously poured more and more flames at Vlov, turning what was supposed to be a simple surge of flame into a flamethrower. My clothing fluttered about intensely because of the wind created by clashing differences in air temperature.

Time to end this.

With my free hand, I reached into my trench coat and took out an ornate dagger with a piece of rotten wood for the blade. It was such a contrast that anyone would find to be wasteful. Why use such a decorated handle if the blade was a piece of rotten wood?

But this dagger was something more.

The secret weapon of the Barthomeloi family: a piece of the True Cross, fashioned into the ultimate vampire-killing weapon. The conceptual weight of its existence is enough to purify any Dead Apostle Ancestors with a single cut, even those older than the Common Era.

I should know, I'm most familiar with its use after all.

"'You, God, see the trouble of the afflicted.'"

I stopped pouring magical energy into the spell. The moment I did, the moment that the fire started receding from me, I raced forward and through it, using the disappearing torrent of fire as a smokescreen. It would normally be suicidal for anyone to try and run through such hot flames, but due to the Bounded Field that surrounds my body coming from the mystic code I'm wearing, I was entirely unaffected.

Vlov must've sensed something. He tried to move out of the range of my charge.

He's too slow. The distance of 50 meters was crossed faster than the torrent of flames could dissipate.

The dagger came up, before falling down as everything does.

*Siluck*

Had he stood still I would've stabbed it into his heart, but since he moved, I could only stab into his left thigh.

"GRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHH!" The upstart Ancestor screamed out in pain as blindingly bright holy light radiated out of his body, "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH—AAAAAAAAAAAHHH—AAAAAAAHHHH!"

Vlov started to age rapidly. His infected soul was being purified of any vampiric corruption, making it so that time itself was catching up to him.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhh..."

Once the holy light died down, what was in front of me, what remains of Vlov, was a dried-out mummified husk of a man.

Sheathing the dagger into my beige trench coat, a grimace appeared on my face as I imagined with the amount of holiness that radiated out from the Cross whenever it's unsheathed, every Executor of the Church is probably on their way to Japan.

Damnit, the Holy Church already suspecting me of possessing some enormously powerful holy relic, if they knew I possess the largest piece of the True Cross they would definitely send their everything at me to try and get it back.

I felt a headache coming as I thought of the future. I can't just leave the area like I always do since there still needs to be a cover-up for this shit. At the same time, I risk the Church finding out that I have that.

I wanted to scream at this impasse.

I took several deep breaths. As I hear Noel's approaching footsteps, I turned to face her.

Hmm? Why is her face showing absolute terror? I thought Noel got used to 'monsters' like myself.

"Wat—"

Time seems to slow down as I realize there's a hauntingly familiar presence standing beside me. That's Thought Acceleration active.

I turn to look at it, but before my pupils could focus on the presence, I found myself falling back onto the cold, hard ground.

"—ch out!"

Everything happened so fast that I couldn't keep up even with Thought Acceleration.

What happened? Why am I lying on the ground? Why can't I feel the rest of my body?

Towering above me, was a 14-year-old girl with red eyes and pitch black hair. Within the girl's right hand was another severed hand, and clutched within that stolen hand was a golden chalice glowing with holy light.

Altrouge Brunestud. The one who led the massacre of the Barthomeloi.

She was smiling.

Why is she here?


AN: updates will be sporadic. I make no guarantees. Teyvat next chapter