The snow around them was stained dark and steaming, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid bite of spent magic.
Julies’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. He felt it—an acidic burn in his forearm where Velra’s teeth had closed, the old familiar throb of injury—but the worst of it was the sight before him: the parasite unravelling like a badly sewn garment.
Velra’s body convulsed, muscles spasming under the skin. The crimson glow that had crowned her like a halo guttered and sputtered; the blazing hair dimmed to dull threads. She screamed once—half a howl, half a sob—and then the voice shifted. Somewhere beneath the parasite’s rasp there was a fragile rasp of someone else trying to surface.
"—Faceless Im..." it breathed, so faint that Julies almost thought he’d imagined it.
The name cut through him like a blade he hadn’t expected. For a beat he forgot the pain and the cold and the way the world seemed to tilt. Then the aftershock of everything hit: the tremor of frost, the reek of burned flesh, the way the soldiers had frozen in the peripheral like statues carved from snow.
---
Julies Evans POV:
[Mission Complete]
[Target Eliminated: "The Deceiving Earth Spider"]
[Bonus Achievement: "Velra Erzsebet" Successfully Subdued]
[Calculating additional compensation...]
"...What a damn ordeal."
Only when the glowing notifications faded from my vision did I finally exhale—a long, shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
But there was no time to savor victory.
[Effect of "Essence of the Extreme" (Grade A) has worn off.]
[Physical parameters slightly reduced.]
A dull ache spread through my limbs as the last trace of power drained away. The strength that had been barely keeping me upright vanished in an instant.
’So tired...’
Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe the aftermath of burning every ounce of mana and willpower I had—but the heaviness behind my eyes was overwhelming.
Still, I knew it wasn’t over.
Bathory’s escape, the aftermath of Velra’s collapse—there were too many pieces left scattered, too many things that could still go wrong.
"...Damn it, stay awake...!"
Someone’s voice—urgent, desperate—echoed from somewhere nearby, but it sounded distant, warped, as though underwater.
I tried to respond, but the effort was too much.
The weight pressing down on me was irresistible.
And as darkness claimed the edge of my vision, I let my eyes close, the world falling into silence around me.
---
"...Ugh... what... what on earth happened...?"
Velra’s voice came out weak, trembling as she pressed a hand to her aching head. A dull, pounding pain spread behind her eyes.
When she licked her lips, she tasted something sweet—metallic, yet strangely familiar.
And then it hit her. The memories came rushing back like a flood.
Her body went rigid.
"F–Faceless Imposter! Are you all right?"
Her voice cracked as she stumbled forward, barely keeping her balance.
Julies lay motionless on the ground, his body twisted awkwardly, smoke still rising faintly from his scorched skin. The air reeked of burnt flesh and iron, the scent thick enough to sting her throat.
"Faceless Imposter! Please, answer me! What... what happened...!"
She fell to her knees beside him, the snow around them stained crimson.
His blood still flowed, dark and heavy, pooling beneath his body—blood that she now realized she had drawn. The memory of biting him, the sensation of warmth and sweetness flooding her mouth, made her stomach twist in guilt.
And then recognition struck her like lightning.
This blood—this taste—she knew it.
The same blood he had once brought her as a "reward." She remembered teasing him about it, thinking it was from some rare beast or noble donor. But now, understanding dawned, and the realization was unbearable.
That blood had been his.
He had been feeding her his own blood all along.
Velra’s hand trembled as she reached for his face, brushing away the dirt and ash from his cheek. "You... you fool..." she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why would you go this far... for me?"
The words burned in her throat, heavy with shame.
"I owe you... I owe you a great debt. One I can never repay."
Not only had he risked his life to save her, but he had given her his own strength—his blood—to bring her back from the brink.
And now, the very man who’d done all that was dying before her eyes.
"Healing magic...!"
Velra’s hands glowed faintly with mana, but the light faltered almost immediately. Her control wavered, unsteady.
No—this wouldn’t work.
Healing spells were useless here. A vampire could control their own blood to heal wounds, but she had never mastered that kind of manipulation—not to this degree.
Even though his blood bag still overflowed with magic-rich essence, she couldn’t reverse what was happening right in front of her.
Her hands tightened into fists, trembling.
"What should I do...?"
Her voice was barely more than a whisper now, breaking apart in the freezing air.
She was Velra Erzsebet—a noble among vampires, a name once spoken with reverence and fear.
Yet here she was, kneeling helplessly beside a dying man.
Utterly powerless.
And for the first time in her long, prideful existence, she wished she wasn’t.
The cold wind howled through the ruins, carrying with it the bitter scent of ash and blood. Snowflakes landed softly on Julies’ still face, melting instantly against his lingering warmth.
Velra’s trembling hands pressed against his chest.
"...Please..."
Her voice cracked, desperate. "Please, just breathe... even once."
She listened—nothing. Not even the faintest rhythm beneath her palms.
Panic clawed at her chest. The numbness spreading through her fingertips wasn’t from the cold—it was fear. Real, consuming fear she hadn’t felt in centuries.
"No... you can’t die like this."
Her hands glowed again, erratic and unfocused. Mana surged and fizzled, unstable. Her tears—hot and red as blood—fell on his face.
"Damn it!"
The air rippled. Her control slipped. Frost spread across the ground, crackling beneath her as the temperature plummeted.
And then—
Thump.
A faint sound. Barely audible, but it was there.
Her breath hitched.
"...You—"
Thump.
Julies’ chest moved, shallowly, irregularly. His body was a ruin—burnt, frozen, scarred—but his heart still refused to stop.
Velra’s lips quivered.
"...You stubborn fool..." she whispered, a broken laugh escaping her throat. "You can’t even die properly, can you?"
Her mana steadied. Gently, she brushed a lock of singed hair from his face.
"If you live through this, I’ll kill you myself," she murmured bitterly, though her trembling hands betrayed her words.
Then—
Then faint breathingof his was slowly going away.
Velra’s eyes widened in surprise.
She didn’t know the reason of the cause but she didn’t also have time to think through this.
She was going to save himself that’s all.
...And there’s is only one way to do so.