Chapter 92

Damian, in the guise of an ordinary dwarf, was startled by the unexpected sensation as he shoved Aglio Olio Pasta into his mouth.

Considering the vampire’s natural aversion to garlic, the Aglio Olio Pasta, which should have tasted like forcing a picky child to eat something they hate, was surprisingly well-made.

Though it looked like a humble noodle dish, the pasta was perfectly al dente—not undercooked but just firm enough to enjoy the texture.

The oil and salt infused into the noodles were so masterfully balanced that it felt like they naturally clung to the palate, making it hard to notice the effort behind such perfection.

There was also a subtle, spicy kick, perhaps from added pepperoncino.

Honestly, Damian had expected a hastily thrown-together, garbage-like meal meant to weed out vampires.

But the dish, aside from the instinctively repulsive garlic aroma, was quite excellent.

No, considering the simplicity of the ingredients, it wasn’t just excellent—it was downright amazing.

Damian smiled softly at the pleasant surprise.

“Indeed, with cooking skills like this, it wouldn’t be bad to spare them and make them my personal chef instead of killing them.”

What a delightful discovery, all because of a whim to not kill them immediately.

Truly, living as a merciful vampire has its perks.

Of course, his actions weren’t rooted in mercy, but Damian praised himself inwardly anyway.

This was the demeanor of a prideful, egotistical noble vampire.

“At this level, I could even endure the garlic smell and enjoy it.”

In high spirits, Damian finished every last bite of the dish Kurt had served.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, Damian turned to Kurt and opened his mouth to speak.

But then—

“Gah…!”

*Gurgle!*

Instead of words, a bowl’s worth of dark red blood gushed from Gale’s mouth.

Gale, momentarily stunned, looked at the blood he had vomited, then at me, as if asking what had happened.

And it wasn’t just Gale.

The entire Dwarven Warrior Squad, who had been dining together, began convulsing and vomiting blood, each producing about a bowl’s worth.

In no time, the inn was drenched in a sea of blood.

“Tsk, I went through the trouble of making a late-night snack, and you all vomited it up. That’s why I said—if anyone can’t handle garlic, speak up beforehand.”

“H-how…?”

Gale, who had just vomited a bowl of blood, looked at me in disbelief.

His already pale face, tinged with sickness, had turned ghostly white.

Yes, like a vampire.

“How could mere garlic cause such a severe reaction in me?”

“Of course. Ordinary garlic might work on a regular vampire, but not on you.”

After days of searching for traces of the vampire, I had failed to locate their hideout but discovered two things.

Well, I had suspected them before, but the search confirmed it.

First, the vampire who defeated the Dwarven Warrior Squad was no ordinary vampire—they were on a completely different level.

The Dwarven Warrior Squad could easily fend off a silver-ranked A-Dragon attacking the village.

Yet, they were utterly crushed overnight, with half going missing without a fight. This meant the vampire was several tiers above the norm.

So, ordinary garlic wouldn’t work.

“Sun Garlic.”

“What?”

“That’s the name of the garlic in the pasta. It carries the essence of the sun. The water used was holy water blessed by the Holy Kingdom, and the salt was white silver salt, mined from the Mikaelis Plains, imbued with silver properties.”

These were items I had asked Mari and my team to gather before the search.

Each was rare in the area, so even finding one would’ve been lucky. Thankfully, they scoured the village and found everything.

So, feeding them a combo of ingredients that could severely harm even a regular vampire was bound to make them vomit blood.

“…What? How did you prepare all that?”

“Of course, I prepared it. Did you think I wouldn’t know you’d turned some in this dwarf village into your spies?”

I said this while looking at the dwarfs who had collapsed after vomiting blood behind Gale.

Truthfully, the vampire-specific items weren’t meant for the vampire themselves.

Of course not.

I could easily beat them myself—why would I bother with garlic like a coward?

But if the targets were thralls under the vampire’s control, that’s a different story.

The second thing I realized during the search was something I had suspected beforehand.

And the search confirmed it.

No matter how meticulous a vampire is, finding no clues after days of searching suggested either they were exceptionally skilled at hiding or something simpler—an inside informant.

If something seems impossible for one person to achieve alone, it usually wasn’t done alone.

Similarly, the vampire erasing their traces and hiding their lair could easily be explained with help from other humans.

No, more than that—it explained everything.

No matter how strong a vampire is, could they really annihilate the Dwarven Warrior Squad in a single day?

No, even for a powerful vampire, that’s nearly impossible.

But what if, moments before the battle, their comrades betrayed them?

That’s when I hypothesized that the vampire’s thralls had deeply infiltrated the dwarf village.

The Sun Garlic and other ingredients were prepared to counter those thralls.

—

Vampire blood-sucking is divided into three types.

First, predation—simply absorbing the life force of prey as nourishment.

Second, bloodline transformation—sharing their blood to turn others into their kin.

Those transformed into kin are reborn as vampires, gaining their abilities but also bound to obey the clan leader.

Third, thrall creation—absorbing not life force but mental energy, turning victims into mindless puppets.

Unlike bloodline transformation, which is irreversible, thrall creation is an incomplete subjugation that can be reversed with certain measures. However, thralls, having no will, obey absolutely without the need for shared blood.

This thrall creation, a fate worse than death, is why vampires are truly feared.

The items I prepared were designed to delay or reverse this thrall creation.

“I never imagined the real vampire would fall for it.”

At my words, Gale laughed, clutching his head in disbelief.

“Keh keh keh… Impressive preparation. But your finish is sloppy.”

“Finish?”

“Yes. So what if you’ve uncovered my identity? If you can’t defeat me, it’s meaningless.”

With that, Gale tore his mouth wide open.

From his throat, he began vomiting a continuous stream of deep crimson blood, indistinguishable from the earlier pool.

As if creating a small blood pond in the inn, Gale soon collapsed unconscious, and the blood began to bubble and take on a humanoid form.

Soon, it solidified into a pale, bloodless, aristocratic middle-aged man with a nervous demeanor.

“Is that your clan’s unique ability?”

“Yes. The power of Assimilation. I can become one with those I’ve turned into thralls. This is my true form.”

The vampire draped a blood-red cloak over himself.

Though it looked like a beautiful crimson ornament, it reeked of an ominous blood scent.

Seeing this, my tense companions drew their weapons and prepared for battle.

“My name is Damian Sirius! A noble of Count rank and the head of the Assimilation Bloodline! Hahaha! You’ve gravely underestimated me, foolish Lizardman! Now that you’ve seen this form, none of you will leave here alive!”

With that, the vampire charged at me.