"Good evening, Stephanie. We had a decent haul tonight, though they were all just ordinary Muggles. Next time, Leonard and the others want to take our activities to Oxford University. They're curious to see if our vampire charm works on those intellectual Muggle women."
Returning from a night of hunting with a group of young male vampires, Nolan embraced the necromancer in greeting. As he removed his hat and cloak, handing them to the waiting Felicia, he added, "I'm glad you chose to spend another Christmas here in Randall Gorge with us, Stephanie."
"I like the atmosphere of Randall Gorge, you know that." Stephanie reclined in her usual throne of bones, sipping the tea served by a tiny skeleton, smiling mischievously. "If I weren't so attached to the beautiful bones in the marshlands, I'd consider building myself a little house right beside your manor—becoming neighbors with the Von Draugrs."
"That's a great idea." Miss Nancy, gnawing on a dried fish snack, swished her tail as she passed by. "If you do decide to move in, Stephanie, make sure to bring a worthy offering for me."
Stephanie raised an eyebrow at Nolan. "Offering?"
"Cats' food," Nolan mouthed silently.
"When did the Sistine Manor start having such a rule?"
"I have no idea," Nolan replied nonchalantly, accepting a glass of blood-red carambola juice from another small skeleton. "But Miss Nancy seems to consider Randall Gorge her personal territory. You know how territorial demons can be."
"So... cat food is the rent?" Stephanie's expression was complex. After pondering it for a moment, she simply shook her head. "Forget about that. Nolan, how did your hunt go?"
"Fantastic. I lured in seven Muggle girls, and each one willingly let me drink their blood. I won first place in our little competition. Baron Dura was overjoyed—he's been telling everyone how he personally mentored me in the art of the hunt. The others practically worship him for producing such a refined vampire gentleman like myself."
"Oh, Nolan, darling, you really are something else." Stephanie chuckled. A small skeleton waddled over with a teapot, attempting to refill her cup, but the necromancer, growing impatient, waved her hand dismissively. Instantly, the poor little creature crumbled into a pile of bones, its essence snuffed out. Stephanie merely clicked her tongue. "These mindless things—always unable to tell when I actually want tea and when I'm just idly holding a cup."
"But this magic is truly fascinating," Nolan remarked, watching the disassembled bones scatter across the floor. "Really, manipulating souls—is that a power exclusive to necromancers?"
"Strictly speaking, yes." Stephanie shrugged, crossing one elegant leg over the other. "I read your book, by the way, Nolan. Before this, I never imagined a vampire could master Transfiguration so thoroughly. McGonagall must have been stunned—I've never seen her use such rich and varied praise for a student before."
Nolan was modest. "Most of the knowledge in that book came from Professor McGonagall. I simply contributed the principles of vampire Transfiguration."
"You've accumulated more than enough knowledge, my dear. What's next? Now that you've completed Ancestry, what's your next step?"
Nolan had attended Hogwarts with a clear goal—to discover a new form of magic that vampires could wield, ensuring their survival in the coming age of dwindling magical power.
"I'm going to create a branch of magic specifically for vampires." His voice was calm, yet resolute. "That's why I sought out the knowledge of wizards in the first place."
"The age of waning magic?" Stephanie leaned back in her skeletal throne, adjusting her posture. "I thought that was still a few centuries away."
"For us, a few centuries is hardly a long time, Stephanie. Felicia is already making preparations... Before that happens, we must eliminate our enemies—werewolves, cultists, dark wizards. For that, the Covenant needs an army. Vampires, dark elves, death knights… and your undead legion." Nolan's expression turned sharp. "I don't know if the werewolves have sensed something, but they've been unusually restless this year… What is it, Miss Theresa?"
Nolan noticed that Theresa seemed... off.
The zombie maid rarely showed emotion. Aside from the occasional expressions of joy or gratitude directed at him and Felicia, her face was almost always neutral. But now, her expression was complicated, as if she was struggling to find the right words.
"Your Highness, I believe it would be best if you saw for yourself."
"Then I'm coming too." Stephanie clapped her hands, and the skeletons on the ground quickly reassembled themselves. With a series of rattling clicks, they lifted her throne and began carrying her behind Nolan.
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "You seriously can't just walk?"
"Why do you think I became a necromancer?"
"...Just for this? So skeletons could carry you around?"
Stephanie dodged the question entirely, changing the subject. "I've had a new idea recently. I'd like Felicia to find me some horse or camel bones. When I restore them, they'll serve as elegant steeds. And when I don't need them to run around, I can turn them into stylish, comfortable chairs."
Classic necromancer logic.
Miss Theresa led them toward the manor's underground chambers. This was where the Von Draugr family kept their spare food supply.
The moment the captive Muggle girls saw Nolan enter, they stirred from their beds, quickly dressing in their finest clothes and hurrying toward him. Their eyes sparkled like stars, filled with eager devotion.
"Nolan, you wicked, wicked creature. You've ensnared them all completely, made them willing to offer their blood to you." Stephanie wrinkled her nose in mock disapproval as she whispered behind him.
"Oh? And tell me, Stephanie," Nolan responded smoothly, "don't you think manipulating the dead is even more perverse than enchanting the living?"
Stephanie pursed her lips.
He had a point.
They walked past the sleeping quarters of the Muggle girls and descended further down. Nolan's expression shifted.
Because beyond this point lay the torture chamber.
Vampires were skilled in the art of interrogation, but since very few creatures dared to oppose them, the torture chamber of Sistine Manor had remained largely vacant for years.
"...Oh no." Nolan suddenly had a terrible thought.
"Miss Theresa, don't tell me—"
"I'm afraid so, Your Highness," Theresa confirmed with a sigh. "It is exactly as you suspect."
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