Prologue
In 1820, there was a small town with a population of a few thousand in eastern Britain. Despite the town’s prosperous economy, its residents lived their days in a state of constant trepidation.
During this era, the class hierarchy of feudal society was deeply entrenched, and it was entirely commonplace for the nobility to rule over the common folk with an iron fist. To defy or resist a noble’s command meant inviting either death or unspeakably cruel treatment. Generally, even if the commoners harbored deep resentment, they chose to remain as silent as winter cicadas, absolutely never daring to rashly oppose the aristocracy.
In the nineteenth century, Romanesque and Gothic architecture were highly fashionable, and traces of both design styles could be found everywhere. Beside a towering church bell tower sat a grand mansion built in the Western European Romanesque style.
The interior of the grand hall was elegantly and magnificently decorated. The surrounding walls were adorned with wallpaper featuring large, continental floral patterns, while a chandelier crafted from thousands of crystal teardrops hung from the ceiling. A beautifully woven, burgundy carpet covered the luxurious floor, extending all the way to a wide, sweeping staircase in the center that spiraled upwards.
Neatly embedded in the walls of the staircase were several bronze, hexagonal sconces. Their soft, orange-yellow light illuminated two oil portraits hanging on the wall. The subjects were a well-dressed, composed gentleman and a lady of equal elegance. Both wore solemn, dignified expressions, their lips pressed into thin lines without the slightest hint of a smile.
Following the stairs to the second floor, a long, wide corridor came into view. The walnut doors on both sides were shut tight, save for a double door in the middle on the left that was left ajar. That was the master’s study, and the sound of two men conversing could be heard clearly from within.
Looking inside, a tall, somber middle-aged man stood with his back perfectly straight by the window. His deep blue eyes, profound as dark pools of water, gazed out at a distant point. His chiseled face was cold and taut, betraying no emotion. He was dressed impeccably; his strong, broad torso was wrapped in a loose white shirt, topped with a gray buttoned waistcoat, paired with dark green plaid riding breeches and black leather shoes.
A man with dark brown curly hair stood beside him, one arm crossed diagonally over his chest. He bowed slightly at the waist, adopting a posture of respectful courtesy.
“My dear Mr. Sibert, our Lord Count hopes you can find the time to visit his estate and personally deliver your final decision,” he said, his head bowed. Though his tone was respectful and polite, a sly, fox-like smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “As for what this is regarding, I believe you are more than clear, sir.”
“Yes, I know. Please tell the Count that I will visit him tomorrow.” The man addressed as Sibert did not turn his gaze toward him, merely responding in a low, resonant voice.
Following this, the curly-haired man gave a slight bow, took a few steps back, and turned to leave.
At the same time, a woman of gentle and elegant beauty stepped into the study with graceful strides, lifting the heavy hem of her hoop skirt. Her waist-length brown curls swayed gently with her steps. As the strange man brushed past her, she discreetly cast a sidelong glance at him before resting her eyes on Sibert, slowly pacing to his side.
Only after the stranger had completely distanced himself from the study did she slowly speak, asking in a cautious tone, “Are you still insisting on not doing it?”
“My sword is meant to slay enemies on the battlefield, but now he wants me to murder the innocent. This completely violates my principles.” Sibert turned sideways to look at her, his decisive voice revealing an unshakable resolve. “You know this very well, my lady.”
“I understand your thoughts. It’s just... if we offend the Count, it will be impossible for us to live in peace.” A hint of worry crept onto the lady’s face, the unease in her heart growing stronger.
“Listen, if you wish—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the lady shook her head anxiously, cutting him off immediately. Her slightly agitated tone was resolute: “I will not leave. This burden should not be borne by you alone. Since I chose to marry you, I will face whatever situations arise together with you.”
“Alright, I understand. But my biggest worry right now is our son...” At this, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow, letting out a heavy sigh. “Could you call Jared over for me?”
The lady opened her mouth, intending to say something more, but ultimately just nodded. She lifted her skirt and turned to leave. Watching her silhouette gradually disappear from his line of sight, a profound sense of guilt welled up in Sibert’s heart. If he hadn’t accepted the Count’s invitation to serve as a military commander all those years ago, and had instead chosen to live a peaceful, comfortable life with his wife and child, perhaps this dilemma would never have occurred.
In this deceitful, hierarchical society, anyone’s kindness came with an ulterior motive. When you were a useful pawn, you were naturally heavily relied upon and enjoyed wealth and glory; however, the moment you refused to be their piece on the board, you were cast aside, and even your life would be forfeit.
Just as he was consumed by remorse, his chaotic thoughts were abruptly severed by a gentle knock on the door. He looked up to see a handsome young man walking in with slow, measured steps.
The youth was tall, with fair, clean skin. He possessed the same clear blue eyes as Sibert, paired with slightly curly, messy black hair, making him look exceptionally handsome and charming. He wore a loose striped shirt with a burgundy bow tie neatly fastened at the collar, paired with dark brown suspender breeches and brown ankle boots. This refined, casual attire gave him an aura of gentle elegance. This young man was—
Jared Sibert.
“Did you need me, Father?” Jared stopped before him, asking with a respectful expression.
“Yes. You once mentioned that you wanted to go to your uncle’s place to learn winemaking, didn’t you?” Sibert clasped his hands behind his back, staring at him unblinkingly. His eyes, deep as the sea, strictly concealed all emotion. “I have already discussed it with him. You can set off for his town first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Really? Are you truly letting me go, Father?” A month ago, when he made this request, his father had seemed quite reluctant, believing he needed to focus entirely on military studies rather than wasting time on other hobbies. Since then, he hadn’t brought it up again. Therefore, his father’s sudden consent left Jared overjoyed, his face a tapestry of excitement and elation.
“Go. Learning more things is never a bad thing.” Sibert nodded, his flat tone devoid of any fluctuation.
“Thank you, Father. Once I learn how to make red wine, I will personally brew some for you to taste,” Jared promised, the corners of his mouth lifting in a joyful arc.
“I will look forward to that day.” Sibert had always been a stern, authoritative father who rarely smiled at his son, but at this moment, his expression softened uncharacteristically. It was only a fleeting moment, however, before he quickly reverted to his usual stoicism. “Go pack quickly and prepare the things you need to take with you.”
“Yes, Father.”
Watching his son leave full of anticipation, Sibert let out a soft sigh, a barely perceptible flash of worry crossing his eyes. He could only hope that this matter would not involve Jared. His brother was highly appreciated by the monarch, responsible for managing the royal wine cellars, and possessed a status that symbolized power. Count Oster wouldn’t dare cause trouble in his territory. He trusted his brother would be able to protect Jared well.
⚜️⚜️⚜️
The day passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, it was the next morning. The carved iron gates on one side of the mansion slowly swung open with a “clack”. Carrying a brown suitcase and wearing a gray top hat, Jared was the first to step out, with his mother following closely behind to see him off.
When they reached a black, four-wheeled enclosed carriage parked by the roadside, Jared slowly came to a halt. Filled with reluctance to part, he turned to face his mother.
“When you reach your uncle’s house, remember to take good care of yourself, understand?” The lady raised her warm palms to cup his cheeks, her eyes swirling with deep affection.
“Please don’t worry, Mother. I definitely won’t give you and Father any cause for concern.”
With that, he curved his lips, flashing her a bright, reassuring smile. His mother knew in her heart that he was using this smile to put her at ease, so she quickly wiped the worry from her face and bloomed a warm smile of her own.
“It’s about time. Get in the carriage.”
After nodding to his mother, Jared carefully stepped into the carriage. Once he was seated securely, the coachman sitting atop the carriage flicked the reins, urging the horses at the front to lift their hooves and slowly pull the vehicle forward. The lady’s eyes remained fixed on the gradually departing carriage. Even when it became a blurry black dot at the end of her vision, she still did not withdraw her gaze.
She knew that no matter how much it pained her heart to let him go, this decision...
Was only to protect him.
⚜️⚜️⚜️
After leaving the small town, the carriage traveled steadily along a wide forest path. The rhythmic creaking of the wheels rolling over the road, coupled with the “clip-clop” of the horses’ hooves, sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet countryside. Because their destination was another town, the journey was naturally quite long. Calculating the time, Jared had already been away from his hometown for over ten hours.
Although the coachman had stopped to rest several times along the way, he could not fend off the creeping exhaustion. He looked up at the ink-black night sky, then down at the road illuminated only by moonlight. After careful consideration, he pulled back on the reins and brought the carriage to a halt.
“Sir...” the coachman asked tentatively, his voice laced with fatigue. “I see it’s getting quite late. If you don’t mind, could we rest here for the night?”
Jared slid open the small window on the carriage wall, glanced up at the sky, and decided the request was reasonable. He nodded in agreement. “Very well, we shall rest here for the night.”
“Yes, yes. Thank you, sir.” The coachman looked grateful and promised him, “I guarantee we will set off right on time tomorrow morning.”
Afterward, the coachman parked the vehicle in a clearing in the woods and tied the horses securely to a thick tree trunk. Once the horses were settled, he sat down quietly, leaned his head against the tree, and closed his eyes to sleep. As for Jared, he rested inside the carriage, leaning his head against the wall and gently closing his eyes. A heavy wave of exhaustion soon washed over him like a tide, blurring his consciousness and pulling him into a drowsy state.
Time ticked away. Just as Jared was about to be dragged into dreamland, the panicked voice of the coachman suddenly rang out from outside, jolting him completely awake from his half-slumber.
“Ah—!”
Hearing the piercing scream tear through the silent night, Jared sensed something was terribly wrong. He hurriedly opened the small window and peeked out. To his horror, he found the coachman lying motionless on the ground, two bloodstained puncture wounds on his jugular vein. His eyes were wide and staring, his face as pale as paper, and his skin had become sunken and withered, as if all the blood in his body had been drained in an instant.
Jared was terrified out of his wits. His body began to tremble uncontrollably, his eyes filled with the dread of an unknown danger. How he wished the sight before him was merely a hallucination, for standing beside the corpse was a terrifying, grotesque creature—it possessed blood-red eyes, and two razor-sharp fangs protruded from its lips, its two rows of white teeth stained with crimson blood. The thick, foul stench of blood drilled into Jared’s nose without obstruction, causing a violent wave of nausea to surge from his stomach.
“God, what... what are you...” Endless panic spread from the depths of his heart. His teeth chattered incessantly, and he couldn’t even form a complete sentence.
The creature ignored his words. Without hesitation, it lunged forward, grabbed him with a single hand, and dragged him out of the carriage, throwing him mercilessly to the ground. Then, it opened its mouth wide and pounced on him. Jared felt the creature’s sharp fangs pierce viciously into his neck. It clamped its lips shut and began to frantically suck his blood. A paralyzing, stinging pain instantly shot through his entire body.
He writhed and struggled desperately, but the creature’s strength was far greater than he had imagined. Even using every ounce of his strength, he couldn’t push the monster away. Soon, he felt his limbs go weak and limp. Breathing became increasingly difficult, as if he were suffocating. His consciousness gradually blurred, and the world in his vision began to spin wildly.
Just moments before Jared blacked out, he vaguely saw a black silhouette rush over like a gale, forcefully tearing the creature’s body away and slamming it to the ground. Because his eyes were losing focus, he couldn’t make out what the thing was; he only knew it was a blurry, pixelated mass flashing rapidly. Then, a hoarse wail pierced his ears, and he lost consciousness completely, plunging into a deep, dark slumber.
When he awoke, he found himself lying on a soft leather sofa. Looking around, he suddenly realized he was inside a cabin built of raw timber. The environment was extremely dim; almost all the windows in the house were boarded up with wood, allowing only a faint sliver of light to filter in from outside.
The cabin was not large, and though the furnishings were simple, everything inside was neat, tidy, and completely spotless. From this, one could deduce that the owner was definitely not a sloppy person. Oh, no, God, he shouldn’t be wasting his mind on such trivial matters right now. He needed to know where exactly he was. Why was he brought here?
“Where exactly is this place?” He propped himself up on the sofa, slowly sitting up and looking around warily. For some reason, he felt that his body had undergone some inexplicable changes. He involuntarily reached up to touch his throat, furrowing his brows as he muttered to himself, “Why do I feel...”
“Feel an unbearable thirst in your throat?” A slightly hoarse male voice suddenly rang out, finishing Jared’s incomplete sentence and startling him into a shudder. Following the source of the voice, he noticed an unfamiliar middle-aged man walking over from a dark corner with steady steps. He wore a brown trench coat and had medium-length, curly black hair. The mustache above his lip was neatly trimmed, and his rugged face bore no expression. “Perhaps you need this.”
As his words fell, Jared watched him pick up an oval-shaped bottle filled with red liquid from a nearby wooden cabinet and walk over to him at an unhurried pace. He pulled out the cork and handed it directly to Jared without a word of explanation.
The moment the bottle was opened, the thick, pungent scent of blood immediately assaulted his nostrils. Realizing that what was inside was blood, he was struck dumb with shock, staring at the man with wide, horrified eyes.
“W-why are you giving me this?”
He didn’t understand. Why would the place he lived in store blood? Was this man some kind of psychopathic murderer? But the real question was, why give him blood to drink? Shouldn’t giving him water be the normal thing to do?
Although he found the man’s actions baffling, for some unknown reason, an urge swelled within his heart—an urge to snatch the bottle from the man’s hand and down the blood in one gulp. Moreover, he was astonished to find that he didn’t feel the slightest bit disgusted by the foul stench of the blood.
“Though I feel great regret, I must tell you that your identity now is that of a vampire.” The man’s face remained calm and indifferent, devoid of any superfluous emotion, as his clear and steady voice called out his full name. “Jared Sibert.”
