The First Vampire

“… Run! The Orcs are coming!”

“Westland has fallen! Even Wind Whisper City has been massacred, everyone in the city has been killed! Run!”

…

Various cries mixed with hurried footsteps, disrupting the silence of the small town.

Black smoke rose with the flames into the sky, as the air smelt of scorched rice.

On a hill outside the town, Queen Midela stood beside her carriage, looking down at the chaotic town and at the fields consumed by flames. She turned to Marquis Garcia beside her and asked:

“This was your arrangement, wasn’t it?”

Marquis Garcia nodded, without denial:

“Yes. Before we retreated from the Sky Breaking Mountain Range, I dispatched people to spread rumors in Westland, hoping that the commoners would evacuate in advance, but sadly… the impact was not so good.”

Marquis Garcia nods: “Yes, after all, the news of the defeat at Sky Breaking Mountain Range has already spread, as well as the tragic situation after the fall of Westland…”

Queen Midela pointed to the fields consumed by flames and inquired:

“What was the purpose of burning the crops? Not leaving food for the Orc’s army?”

“Exactly. The best strategy to counter the Orcs is to retreat strategically and leave nothing for them. It’s an army that relies on looting for sustenance without any logistics and transportation. Without enough food, they will show their impatient side.” Marquis Garcia sighed, “Unfortunately, some fools always fancy the idea that they can keep the Orcs out of their territories…”

Queen Midela laughed and said, “Of course, you speak so lightly. After all, this is not your territory.”

Marquis Garcia frowned but did not refute.

Within his gaze, a man who had fallen to the ground by the field was looking at the burning crops and weeping. The fire was about to set his clothes on, but he was reluctant to leave.

People who passed by tried to pull him up, but he was beating the ground, screaming with his hair disheveled:

“I’m not going anywhere! This is my homeland, my everything! You guys can just kill me! Just kill me!”

“This is the price that must be paid…” Marquis Garcia said softly.

He didn’t know if he was trying to convince Queen Midela or himself.

The westerly wind gusts, pushing the flames in the field far away, as if it had become a red carpet, unfolding rapidly in front of them.

The rising smoke obscured Marquis Garcia’s vision, but the chilling cries still clearly reached his ears.

“Let’s go.” Queen Midela urged.

Both of them got into the carriage, and the motorcade descended from the hill, continuing westward.

Marquis Garcia lifted the curtain of the carriage and saw a chaotic and desolate scene outside.

The not-so-wide road was packed with civilians fleeing to the east. There were youths bent over with large burdens on their backs, women holding children and crying incessantly, stumbling elders…

Cries, shouts, curses… all composing the prelude to the end of the world.

Queen Midela pulled down the carriage curtain, blocking Marquis Garcia’s sight, and said:

“Stop looking.”

Marquis Garcia put up no resistance, he sat quietly in the carriage, staring hollowly ahead, lost in his thoughts.

With a slight discomfort in her heart, Queen Midela was just about to say a few words to make him feel better when she heard a guard by the window whisper:

“Your Highness, the motorcade of the St. Gregrian family is up ahead…”

Queen Midela paused in surprise, but before she could react, Marquis Garcia had already gotten up to leave the carriage.

“Don’t go out!” Queen Midela reached out to stop Marquis Garcia, but he dodged her.

The curtain of the carriage was lifted, and Marquis Garcia had already jumped out.

He had just stood up when he saw the motorcade from the St. Gregrian family approaching.

They had obviously recognized the royal carriage and were coming over to pay their respects.

The one leading them was indeed none other than Crete St. Gregan, the Governor of Westland.

Just a few months without seeing him, this formerly robust and spirited old man had become aged and weak. He needed assistance even to walk. His hunched back seemed as if it would break with just a gust of wind.

“Your Highness, the Queen…” Governor Crete was about to bow when he saw Marquis Garcia jumping off from the carriage. Then, his face instantly changed drastically.

“Garcia Saint Hilde!” These cold words were squeezed out from between Governor Crete’s clenched teeth, full of endless hatred.

On hearing this name, the evacuees of the St. Gregrian family immediately buzzed with chaos.

If it were not for the presence of the Royal Guard, perhaps, people from the St. Gregrian family would have swarmed Marquis Garcia and torn him to shreds.

“Governor Crete.” Marquis Garcia greeted calmly and then his eyes swept across the queuing St. Gregrian family members, immediately followed by a question, “Has Duke St. Gregorian evacuated?”

Because of his rage, Governor Crete’s body was trembling. Deathly glaring at Marquis Garcia with bloodshot eyes, he gritted his teeth and said:

“The knights of the St. Gregrian family would never abandon Westland!”

Marquis Garcia was momentarily silent.

He also noticed that the evacuees in front of him were all elderly, weak, women, or children. It seemed the knights of the St. Gregrian family were possibly still in Westland. However, he wasn’t sure how many were still alive.

As the atmosphere grew more strained, Queen Midela had no choice but to step forward, standing in front of Marquis Garcia. Showing a gentle smile, she reassured:

“Governor Crete, I can understand your feelings, but rest assured, the sacrifices and dedication of the St. Gregrian family will always be remembered by the citizens of the empire.

Moreover, His Majesty has already started assembling an army at the Storm Fortress and is preparing to launch a counterattack on the Orcs.

Please trust me, Westland will certainly be recaptured.

You will definitely be able to return to your homeland.”

Obviously unmoved by her comforting words, Governor Crete’s gaze remained fixed harshly on the figure behind Queen Midela. He asked firmly:

“Your Highness, I want to know, what kind of punishment will the traitor behind you suffer?”

“Whether one is wrong or right will be settled by His Majesty. But for now, we need to hurry to Storm Fortress. Please excuse us.” After saying this, Queen Midela turned around and pulled Marquis Garcia back into the carriage.

Then she urged the motorcade to leave immediately.

Marquis Garcia’s name had just been announced, and more and more refugees who heard about it flocked to the road.

The news of Marquis Garcia leading the troops to retreat from the Sky Breaking Mountain Range had long spread throughout the Glorious Empire. In addition to Emperor Reinhardt personally declaring him a traitor, Marquis Garcia was now infamous in the empire.

Especially for those refugees forced to leave their homes, they wished they could tear him apart and drink his blood.

Queen Midela, fearing unimaginable consequences of staying here any longer, hurriedly left in embarrassment.

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