The Progenitor, Tyrkanzyaka, possessed overwhelming power, yet she was once just a young girl who had died before even reaching the end of her natural lifespan. She only had a bit of knowledge about the human body, and by sheer coincidence and relentless determination, she became the Progenitor.
Because of this, Tyrkanzyaka herself was not suited for battle.
She had no combat experience in life, nor had her body fully matured.
Thus, she needed warriors to fight in her stead and revived them with bloodcraft.
Even after accumulating centuries of experience, Tyrkanzyaka had only grown somewhat accustomed to battle.
Yet she still lacked the knowledge to fully wield her overflowing power.
In contrast, every Elder was a warrior who had once dominated an era, their names etched into history.
Tyrkanzyaka was no pushover, but now, with her power diminished, facing all of these Elders at once...
It was practically impossible.
The moment Tyrkanzyaka realized her own helplessness, she trembled with rage.
“You dare... defy me?”
“That’s right. They’re bad people. We should remind them who truly owns their lives.”
Thankfully, not all of the Elders were against her.
Kabilla, standing alone by the Progenitor’s side, embraced her and whispered:
“Just for a moment. Just return to how you were, even for a moment.”
“Calm your restless heart. Become the Cold-Blooded Queen once more and punish them.”
“Whether you forgive them or kill them and take their True Blood—it’s your choice, Sister.”
Tyrkanzyaka’s authority had crumbled, but that authority had always stemmed from her power.
If she regained her strength, then both her lost authority and her deserting Elders would inevitably return.
...The only thing that wouldn’t return was their faith that she would remain unchanged.
“You’ll regain the right to ‘choose.’ Just as you always have.”
Tyrkanzyaka’s eyes trembled slightly.
That was true.
This situation seemed dire, yet there was an easy and simple way to overcome it.
She just had to split open her own body and remove the card that touched her heart—Spade 1.
If she did, she would lose her heartbeat.
Her senses would dull.
And Tyrkanzyaka would once again become the ruler of blood, bringing every vampire back under her control.
“...B-but.”
“What are you afraid of, Sister?”
“We’re vampires. Wounds heal quickly. Even if your heart breaks once, it’ll return as if nothing happened.”
Perhaps that was true.
But in that ‘as if nothing happened’, there would be no place for Tyrkanzyaka’s emotions, her senses, or...
The precious trace left by the one who once called her Tyr.
Tyrkanzyaka spoke.
“...Wait. Just give me a moment to think.”
“Sister, we don’t have time to think. We must decide before he arrives.”
“He?”
“Dullahan. The Heroic Knight. Your old nemesis.”
The moment Kabilla uttered the name of the Black Knight, Dullahan, Tyrkanzyaka’s memories resurfaced.
The era known as the End of Chivalry.
Countless knights who screamed of honor had come to hunt her down.
Most of them never even made it past the Black Knights that guarded her.
Those few who defeated the Black Knights had still ended up as food for the Elders.
But there was one exception.
Dullahan, the Heroic Knight.
Even after slaying Elders, he had still reached Tyrkanzyaka’s throne.
Kabilla reminded her.
“Do you remember the day he became an Elder?”
“He died, but he challenged you in the name of every knight who had fallen to the Black Knights.”
“Even after his defeat, he begged you to turn him into an Elder.”
“He swore that even as a vampire, he would still find a way to kill you.”
“Of course, he couldn’t resist your authority and became a loyal servant in the end.”
Kabilla mocked the knight who had once dared to defy the Progenitor’s power.
But then, her expression hardened.
“But now that he’s free from your shackles...”
“He will absolutely try to kill you. In a way that ensures you can’t even regenerate.”
Dullahan had been the strongest knight before becoming an Elder.
And even after his transformation, he had never gone all out—not even once.
The Headless Knight, who carried his own severed head as both shield and weapon, was so feared that there was a saying:
"Dullahan, wielding two hands, is stronger than anyone... except the Progenitor."
However...
The truth was that his headlessness was not a mere side effect of vampirism.
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It was his own will—a delusion born from the Heroic Knight’s stubborn resolve to never truly serve the Progenitor.
“Those three only resent you.”
“They’re just throwing a tantrum, asking you to come back.”
“If you regain your power, they’ll submit like meek little lambs, waiting to be dealt with.”
“They’re not even worth killing.”
If they had truly intended to betray her, they would have already attacked.
Muri, Lahu Khan, and Bakuta had merely come to question her.
They hadn’t drawn their weapons.
If Tyrkanzyaka chose to return, they would kneel before her without hesitation.
But there were others who were not so simple.
Like Dogo, who would ignore everything.
Like Erzebeth, who dreamt of ambition.
The Sister Yeghceria was currently outside the duchy, but no one knew what she would do upon her return.
And Dullahan—without a doubt—would attack the Progenitor.
Because the vow he had made just before his death was still unbroken.
Even in death, he remained a knight of honor.
Only now did Tyrkanzyaka truly realize—
Nothing in this world is guaranteed.
She had not been worshiped as the Progenitor because she had given power to others.
She had been worshiped simply because she had power.
And now that she no longer had it, Tyrkanzyaka and the Progenitor were no longer the same.
A once-loyal servant’s betrayal.
Tyrkanzyaka’s voice shook, trembling with both fury and disbelief as she asked—
“...Vladimir?”
And then, the expected answer came.
“Sister. Do you really think he didn’t know?”
“As you know, Vladimir has effectively been ruling this nation.”
“For centuries, he has handled every troublesome matter, accumulating both the greatest power and the most extensive intelligence network.”
“He probably noticed those three awakening long before you did.”
In other words, Vladimir knew about all of this but chose to ignore it.
Tyrkanzyaka trembled at the betrayal of the retainer she had trusted the most.
She was completely surrounded by enemies.
No—Lir and Kabilla were still with her.
But was that enough?
And Kabilla... she was currently trying to stop her heart.
There was no other way.
To rid herself of this powerlessness, this disbelief, and this anger—
She had to halt her heart once again.
She had to execute the vampires who dared to defy the will of the Progenitor.
She had to return as the Queen of Shadows and restore order.
Kabilla urged her to make a choice.
Whether such coerced decisions could truly be «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» called choices... Tyrkanzyaka wasn’t sure.
“...I...”
***
Hilde, who had been sternly lecturing me just moments ago, suddenly realized something.
Tilting her head, she seemed to be evaluating whether a rebellion against the Progenitor was truly possible.
Lack of faith—did she really think I was so clueless?
I had simply taken the easiest path, but I always left myself a way out.
After suppressing her earlier irritation, Hilde suddenly threw herself into my arms.
“Father, I love you!”
Passersby who overheard her smiled warmly, seeming to think we were just a close father-daughter pair.
...Even though I definitely didn’t look old enough for that.
Maybe it was because vampires had a warped sense of age?
As Hilde rubbed her face against mine, I pushed her away and said,
“Just a moment ago, you were scolding me for slacking off. Have you finally realized this father’s grand plan?”
“Yes! Your foolish ‘daughter’ has failed to see your wisdom! I am truly sorry!”
“Just words?”
“I’ll apologize with my body too! Should I book a room? Or should we do it here?”
The people who had been smiling flinched in horror and quickly left the area.
Some lingered with curious expressions, but I wasn’t about to give them the scene they wanted.
“That’s right. Tyr’s power hasn’t vanished—it has simply changed.”
“If given the right catalyst, she can return to how she was.”
“This may seem like a crisis, but...”
“A situation where all it takes is a flick of a finger to escape—can that really be called a crisis?
“A real crisis is when you can’t even fight back.”
“So that’s why you didn’t warn anyone? You even urged the Elders to act! All while spending that long night together!”
“It wasn’t intentional. That’s just how things turned out.”
“Shouldn’t the Elders also have a chance to pursue their desires?”
“What comes of it, I don’t know.”
“Ah, Father...! I always believed in you!”
Now she was spouting blatant lies.
She had practically despised me just moments ago.
“If the Elders provoke or persuade Tyrkanzyaka into restoring her power...”
“The Mist Duchy will once again be under her absolute rule.”
“Order will be restored.”
“And Father will become the absolute ruler’s consort!”
“...Haha. Right.”
That wasn’t my intention—but it wasn’t incorrect, either.
Would Tyr abandon her wish so soon after attaining it?
Would the Elders, after finally glimpsing freedom, truly choose eternal order once again?
I don’t reject order.
A house may collapse at any moment, but you can’t sleep beneath it if you believe it might fall.
The belief that the house will not collapse—
The belief that order will persist—
Is necessary for people to live without fear.
I acknowledge that.
But if maintaining that belief requires sacrifices—
If the house collapses, crushing people beneath it—
And instead of mourning the dead, we focus only on building a bigger house...
Then what is that house truly for?
What is order truly for?
Can we still call it order for the people?
One can argue that such a thing is necessary.
That even if some must perish, a greater order is needed for the survival of the majority.
But I am a king of humans, and I cannot read the hearts of order.
If order becomes an enemy of humanity, I will destroy it as many times as necessary.
Yet—
Those who desire order are still human, too.
So instead of destroying it, I will simply give them the opportunity to decide for themselves.
“Leaving the castle was the right move.”
“We should stay outside until this situation resolves.”
“Yes~. Father, take it easy. I’ll handle finding a place for us! But...”
Hilde glanced toward the main street.
She had mapped out every alleyway around the Full Moon Castle.
She had chosen the most secluded routes to avoid attention.
But for some reason, the streets were overflowing with people.
Human refugees, pushed out by the growing crowd, spilled into the alleys.
At this rate, even finding a place to eat would be difficult.
Hilde, puzzled, covered her mouth in thought.
“The humans who had been waiting by the shore for the tide... suddenly returned en masse to the castle.”
“I didn’t have time to investigate this, but...”
“Last night, they weren’t moving at all. It seems like they were given an urgent order.”
Hilde was right.
The streets were packed with those who had originally left for the tides.
They had obediently followed the command to return to the castle, but the sheer number of people made the city feel noisy and chaotic.
“It must be an Elder’s command.”
“Most likely, Red Duke Vladimir’s....”
“But why would he suddenly summon this many people?”
“Father, do you have any guesses?”
“I don’t know either.”
“But the timing seems strange.”
“Hmmm~. I didn’t think he’d take part in the rebellion.”
“For the sake of the Duchy, I had hoped he would remain in power.”
Hilde had completely relaxed now.
I felt the same curiosity stirring.
The Red Duke knew how to break free from the shackles of the Progenitor’s rule.
He could truly choose his own fate.
So what would he choose?
Of course, the thing I was most curious about...
Was Tyr’s choice.