Morganna burned with rage. Her anger boiled inside her, but she couldn't move. Something invisible was holding her back, locking her in place.
She tried to break free, but it was useless.
She glared at the one who had summoned her, a weak, low-level human. How could someone like him to summon her? And because his level was so low, her power had been dragged down too.
Her eyes narrowed. What was that smell?
It wasn't just the meat, they were cooking something over the fire, but that wasn't what drew her in.
No… it was blood. Fresh, warm blood. Exactly what she needed. Her energy was fading fast after a full day under the harsh sun. The summoning penalty had left her weak and starving. And it was his fault.
She looked again. The human was walking toward her.
"Hey, I brought some food. You must be hungry, right?"
Morganna clenched her teeth.
How dare he speak to me like that?
"Listen, Ms. Morganna," Atlas said calmly, stepping a little closer. "I understand you were someone important, maybe even feared, wherever you came from. But fate brought us here, together. We might as well get along and work as a team. What do you think?"
Stop this nonsense!
I won't serve anyone!
Her thoughts raged, but her body stayed frozen. The restraints kept her silent, her lips twitching with the words she couldn't speak. All she could do was glare.
Back in her world, she'd never gone hungry. Her loyal followers made sure she always had a steady supply of high-quality blood. But here? She had nothing. And she hated it, hated the weakness, the hunger, the humiliation.
Then Atlas did something she didn't expect.
He stepped even closer.
Without hesitation, he rolled up his sleeve and held out his hand. He drew a knife and made a small cut across his skin. Blood welled up, thick and red, trickling slowly down his arm.
"I know you need blood," he said. "So take it. Just… don't take too much. I still need some left to live."
Morganna felt her mind scream.
What are you doing?! Stop it! You can't!
But he didn't stop. Keeping his eyes on hers, he gently reached out, offering his bleeding hand like someone calming a wild beast.
"Here," he said. "It should help."
Her eyes widened. Anger. Confusion. Shock. It all swirled together inside her.
What was he thinking? Did this human, this fool, actually believe he could tame her?
Claim her?
Stop it!
You can't make me drink your blood!
In the world of vampires, such a gesture was not taken lightly.
To offer one's blood so freely, openly, without fear, was an act steeped in meaning. It spoke of trust, intimacy, and devotion.
Among vampires, it was something sacred, shared only between lovers or between a master and their most loyal servant. To do so without hesitation was like forging a bond, personal and binding, a silent vow that could never be taken back.
And here was Atlas, doing exactly that.
How dare this human try to bind her in such a way? Did he think he could tame her with such an offering? That he could claim her?
His hand pressed gently against her lips, the warmth of his skin burning against her cold mouth. She wanted to recoil, to slap it away. But then, a drop of blood touched her lips. It slid slowly, innocently, into her mouth.
She tried to resist. She tried.
But it was too late.
The blood slipped past her lips… and down her throat.
And then.
Morganna went still.
What is this?
This blood…
The taste was unlike anything she had ever known. Sweet, potent, brimming with life and energy.
Like a drug rushing through her veins, it soothed the storm inside her. The hunger, the anger, the exhaustion… all of it faded, drowned in that single, intoxicating flavor.
Her body shuddered. Her skin prickled. Her mind fogged over as waves of warmth coursed through her, leaving her trembling in a way she hadn't felt in centuries.
In an instant, all the rage, all the hatred that had burned within her dissolved, swept away by a rising tide of warmth that filled her from the inside out.
I want more.
I want it from the neck.
But that thought made her recoil. To drink from the neck was different. Deeply personal.
If she did that, it would mean something. It would be a silent admission that she had given in, that she had submitted to him. That she had accepted his offer and, in doing so, allowed herself to be bound.
No! she screamed inside her own mind.
I won't!
And yet… the blood was unlike anything she had ever tasted.
Her eyes lit up, burning bright red as energy surged through her body. And then, with a sharp crack, the restraints binding her shattered into nothing.
She was free.
And she didn't hesitate.
"I want more!" she cried.
In a blur of motion, she lunged forward. Her left arm wrapped tightly around Atlas's back, holding him in place. Her right hand gripped the back of his head, fingers digging into his hair as she pulled him close.
And then, without pause, she sank her fangs deep into the side of his neck.
***
"My Lord!" Karian shouted from a distance.
But before he could get too close, Atlas lifted one hand, just slightly.
It's okay.
Seriously… if Morganna had meant to do any real harm, the system should have intervened. But it hadn't. In fact, the system was allowing this to happen.
And then there was the sensation.
It was… strange.
Not painful. Not frightening.
Weird, yes. But not in a bad way.
How was he supposed to describe it?
Comforting?Enjoyable?
I can't let this get weird… but what the hell is this feeling?
He stood still, not frozen by fear, but caught in the middle of something he didn't understand. As her fangs pierced his neck and drew blood, he felt his body respond.
Every part of him seemed to wake up at once. His skin tingled, his senses sharpened. Whatever exhaustion he'd been carrying vanished like it had never been there. He felt energized, like he'd just been plugged into pure life itself.
And somehow… it didn't hurt. Not even a little.
In fact, it felt weirdly… good?
Is this… what it actually feels like to be bitten by a vampire?
After a while, Morganna slowly loosened her grip and stepped back. She wiped the remaining blood from her lips with a slow, graceful motion.
Atlas instinctively touched the side of his neck. His fingers found the two small puncture marks, already starting to heal.
"Next time," he muttered, "maybe give me a little warning, so I'm not caught off guard."
Morganna didn't answer. She only dipped her head slightly. "I was hungry."
He sighed. "Then come sit with us. There's plenty of food by the fire."
Again, no reply, but she followed as he turned and headed back toward the camp where Edrik and Karian waited.
Edrik, gave a small bow and gestured to an empty spot beside the fire. "Please, Ms. Morganna. I'll gladly prepare the finest meal we have for you."
Karian didn't speak. He no longer sat but stood at a slight distance, his eyes locked on Morganna.
Morganna took a seat. She began to eat, and though her expression barely changed, there was something in the way she chewed, slow and deliberate, that hinted at satisfaction.
Atlas watched her quietly. He'd need a better way to speak with her, that much was certain. She was powerful, more than powerful. And if he wanted to protect his island, if he hoped to survive the battles ahead, he would need her strength.
And her trust.
Then, a sudden thought struck him. In all the excitement of eating and restoring his energy, he had completely forgotten. There was still one Rank-S ticket left unopened.
Realizing this, Atlas quickly turned toward the floating, red-glowing card. The floating lantern continued to drift nearby, casting gentle, spinning shadows that danced across the ground.
As he stepped toward the red card, Edrik and Karian followed at a respectful distance. Morganna, however, didn't so much as glance his way. She continued eating, as if nothing around her held the slightest importance.
"We believe you're meant for something far greater, My Lord," Edrik said softly. "Especially considering how easily you've pulled these red cards."
"Could it be another high-ranking Lord?" Karian added.
Atlas gave a sigh and picked up the card. "If this is the Scythe… it'll make Morganna even stronger."
The moment his fingers touched it, the card ignited. Black and blood-red flames consumed it in an instant. From the ashes, streaks of dark crimson energy burst into the air, twisting and folding around themselves until a long, wicked shape began to form.
"Wait… is that?"
A curved blade, sharp and elegant, materialized before them.
[You have received a Rank-S Weapon: (Legendary-grade) Bloodkissed Scythe]
No way.
He had just pulled the featured weapon. Morganna's signature weapon, on only his twentieth pull.
A wide grin broke across his face. This wasn't just lucky, it was a game-changer.
But the moment was short-lived.
Before any of them could react, Morganna was suddenly right there. She moved like a shadow, silent and swift, eyes locked on the weapon still floating mid-air.
With a gleam in her gaze and a hunger that wasn't about food, she reached toward it.
"No one touches this but me!"