CHAPTER 671: [BLOOD MOON WAR] [16] BACK WITH ANOTHER VAMPIRE AND A DAUGHTER

Everything had been going relatively smoothly since we traveled back to the past—or at least, it was going well... until now.

I mean, sure, I became a father.

What the hell?!

I was walking through the fading light of the forest path, Amaya on one side, Alicia on the other. The trees rustled gently with the wind, and distant animal cries echoed now and then. It should’ve been peaceful... and yet, pressed against my chest, wrapped in a warm blanket, was a little girl.

A little girl who, apparently, was my daughter.

Mine... and Alicia’s.

Even now, my brain struggled to process that information. The logic just didn’t add up. How? When? Why? There were no clear answers, and no matter how many times I turned it over in my head, nothing made sense.

But regardless of how little I understood, there was one thing I couldn’t do—leave her behind.

This era we had been thrown into wasn’t kind, especially not to vampires. They were hunted mercilessly, exterminated without hesitation. Adults, children... it didn’t matter. And this girl would be no exception.

I glanced down at her small form curled against my shoulder. She was sleeping so soundly, breathing softly, her tiny hand gripping the fabric of my shirt like it was her anchor to safety. Just looking at her caused something in my chest to stir. It wasn’t panic or confusion anymore. It was... warmth.

A sense of connection.

Of responsibility. Of something deeper I couldn’t quite explain.

I found myself holding her a bit closer.

Meanwhile, Alicia walked a few paces away from me—no, from us. Whether she was distancing herself from the girl, from me, or just the entire bizarre situation, I couldn’t tell. She hadn’t said much since we left the hideout, and the look on her face made it clear she was still trying to wrap her head around this entire ordeal.

Amaya, on the other hand, walked in the middle without a single care in the world. She hadn’t asked for permission to come with us but she followed anyway, like a wandering shadow that simply refused to detach. I didn’t really mind it but I did have a mountain of questions for her.

That conversation would have to wait until we were somewhere safe.

"Are you sure about this, Senior...?" Alicia’s voice broke the silence. She sounded hesitant, like she was trying to tiptoe through her own thoughts.

She was referring to my plan to meet with that Samael Falkrona guy and Ernest Olphean.

I gave her a small nod. "Yeah. I’m tired of running. If we want things to change, we can’t keep hiding in the dark."

It sounded idealistic, I knew that. But what other choice did we have? If we could just talk to them—really talk—maybe they’d see we weren’t enemies. Maybe we could reach some kind of understanding. Work together, even.

"But I’ll handle the talking," I added. "And you, Amaya—you keep quiet. Don’t say a damn word about Lakalros. As far as they should know, we just happened to run into you on the way. Got it?"

Amaya stopped in her tracks and stared at me.

"I said—do you understand?" I repeated, a bit more sharply this time. "Or would you rather get caught by the Resistance? Trust me, they won’t treat you kindly."

Her eyes met mine—serious, unblinking.

"Will you protect me from them?" She asked suddenly.

I blinked. "What?"

She stepped closer, tilting her head up to look at me.

"Like you did with Lakalros," she said. "You didn’t let him take me. You fought him. So... will you do the same for me if someone on the other side tries to hurt me?"

What kind of question was that?

"What do I look like—your bodyguard now?"

Her eyes didn’t leave mine. "Then why did you fight him? Wasn’t it for me?"

She was persistent—too persistent—and her stare held an intensity that made it hard to deflect.

"I... I don’t know," I said honestly. "It wasn’t something I thought through. It just... happened. I acted on instinct."

"..."

She still didn’t stop staring at me and it was starting to make me uncomfortable. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe something else. But for a fleeting moment, I realized why it unsettled me so much.

Because when I had fought Lakalros to save her, I wasn’t thinking about her.

I was thinking about Elizabeth.

Trying to shake the thought away, I spoke again.

"You know—instincts. Like the one that made you jump on me to suck my blood. Or when you tackled Alicia and drained her like a wine bottle."

Amaya turned to glance at Alicia.

Alicia, who was visibly trying to hold it together. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, her hands trembling faintly as she clutched the edge of her cloak. I could see her fighting the thirst—fighting it hard.

"She needs blood," Amaya said matter-of-factly, looking back at me.

"Oh, does she now?" I deadpanned. "Well, since you drained her without permission, how about you give her yours in return? Seems fair."

Amaya shook her head gently. "I can’t give my blood to anyone."

"What do you mean you can’t?" I raised a brow.

"It’s no good," she said simply.

"No good?" I repeated, eyes narrowing.

She gave a small nod but didn’t elaborate. Just fell quiet again, like she’d said all there was to say.

I turned my gaze to Alicia. She was avoiding my eyes, biting her lip—clearly not okay. Not even close.

"I—I’m fine..." She muttered unconvincingly.

No, you aren’t.

And I knew how this would end. There was no point dragging it out. In the end, I’d have to give her my blood again. And honestly, I was still feeling a bit lightheaded from the blood drain as well. But I didn’t say that. I just sighed and kept walking.

Two long, silent hours later, we finally reached the gates of Teraquin Capital.

Alicia and Elizabeth were both cloaked, hoods pulled low to hide their features. Their identities as vampires couldn’t be exposed here obviously.

The journey had been exhausting, both mentally and physically, but somehow, we’d made it. We hadn’t drawn too much attention. Or so I had hoped.

Unfortunately not.

"Well, well... You’ve got some serious guts, coming back here. And of all places, you walk straight into one of the most heavily guarded Resistance territories."

Ernest Olphean stood before us, flanked by a contingent of soldiers. Elves, humans, even a few werewolves—all clad in the colors of the Resistance, weapons at the ready.

"I came to talk," I said calmly.

"Talk?" Ernest scoffed. "That some kind of joke?"

I gave a slight smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. "How’s your nose, Prince Ernest?"

Alicia let out a quiet sigh beside me—probably wishing I could keep my mouth shut for once.

Ernest’s expression darkened instantly.

But before the tension could escalate, a voice rang out behind him.

"Now, now, Your Highness. He said he wants to talk. Let’s not be too hasty."

I looked past Ernest to see Samael Falkrona approaching, flanked by the two women from before. The blue haired was glaring daggers at me like I’d just insulted her ancestors.

Samael, on the other hand, smiled pleasantly. "We’re not savages, are we?"

Ernest turned slightly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes flicked between Samael and me before he finally exhaled sharply and lowered his hand. "Fine. You’ll talk."

Then he turned to his soldiers. "Surround them. We’re going to the castle. And don’t let your guard down."

As the Resistance knights began to encircle us, I clutched the sleeping girl in my arms a little tighter.

"You’re making too much noise," I muttered, shooting a sharp glance at the armored knights walking behind me.

Their heavy steel boots clanked noisily with every step, metal plates scraping and jangling like a dozen rattling chains. It was almost painful to hear. I couldn’t help but compare them to the sleeker, quieter versions I’d grown used to in the present I came from—armors designed not just for protection, but for practicality and movement. These old relics sounded like walking tin cans.

They glared back at me in silent protest, clearly holding back words they wanted to spit in my face. I could read it in their eyes—the contempt, the suspicion. To them, I was no longer one of them. A traitor of humanity. A man who now walked hand-in-hand with creatures they were raised to fear and hate. Vampires.

Eventually, the looming silhouette of Teraquin Castle came into view.

The sight pulled a strange feeling from me—part warmth, part nostalgia, part regret. After the Utopian War, I’d stayed here for a short while—two weeks, to be exact. It had been a peaceful time, one of the rare ones. I’d spent those days with Alvara so I remembered them fondly.

But now... now it felt different. Subtle changes clung to the walls. Furniture moved, guards unfamiliar, the energy just slightly off. Still, the bones of it were the same.

We were eventually ushered into a drawing room—one clearly meant for private meetings. Polished floors, thick curtains draped over tall windows, a few statues of forgotten elven heroes. There was a sense of forced elegance in the space, like it was trying to remind you of power.

Only Ernest, Samael, and the two women that accompanied him stepped inside with us.

I saw a couch in the center and dropped onto it without hesitation. My legs felt heavy.

My mind even more so.

I sighed, not bothering to hide my exhaustion.

Ernest’s brow twitched, clearly annoyed at my casual demeanor, but his focus shifted immediately to Amaya, who still had her hood up.

"Who is this woman?" He asked with a pointed tone.

I waved it off. "It’s fine. You can lower your hoods now."

Both Alicia and Amaya pulled back their hoods. The moment they did, Ernest’s eyes narrowed. He must have instantly recognized she was a vampire as well. But Amaya wasn’t just any vampire. She had an unusual presence even for me after all.

Then, the little girl nestled in my arms stirred.

"Un... Papa..." She murmured groggily, blinking open her crimson red eyes.

"You sleep well?" I asked softly, smiling down at her.

"Um!" she nodded with a bright smile and clung to my shirt, though her gaze wandered nervously around the unfamiliar room. She was clearly uneasy.

"You..." Ernest was staring at me, eyes wide in disbelief. "You left and came back with another Vampire and a child?"

When he said it like that... yeah, it did sound kind of crazy.

Samael took a step forward, a curious look in his eyes. "Is she your daughter?"

I hesitated. My mouth opened, then closed again. How was I even supposed to answer that? I barely understood it myself.

Samael turned his attention to Alicia, who was standing nearby gripping her arm. "And I suppose... she’s the mother?"

Alicia flinched at those words.

"Mama!" The girl suddenly cried out, stretching her small arms toward Alicia.

But Alicia didn’t respond. She turned her face away, her eyes avoiding the child’s gaze entirely. She was still clearly overwhelmed, drained, and in desperate need of blood. She wasn’t in any state to be anyone’s mother right now.

When the girl’s happy expression began to wilt into a confused, hurt frown, I gently stroked her blond hair. She turned to look up at me, her eyes searching mine.

"What’s her name?" Samael asked again.

I stared down at the girl in my arms, really looked at her. Those wide, curious eyes. That strange warmth I felt the moment I met her. A connection that didn’t make sense—until now.

I remembered what Roda had told me, back when I was with Levina. When she asked whether she was related to me or not because she smelled like me.

And deep down, I already knew the truth.

Maybe I had known it from the very moment I laid eyes on her after she came out of the cocoon.

"Levina," I said quietly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alicia’s body tense.

A small reaction. Subtle, but telling.

She knew too.

The strange bond we both felt toward this girl—this child—wasn’t just some coincidence. It was the same one we felt toward Levina, that girl from the present.

Now, we understood.

"Do you like it?" I asked as I looked down at the little girl nestled in my arms.

Levina’s eyes sparkled. Her smile blossomed like a flower in spring. "I love it, Papa!" she chirped before tightening her grip around me in a small but fierce hug.

I smiled as I gently ran my fingers through her blond hair. I wasn’t sure when the walls around my heart had cracked—but they had. And now that she was here, in my arms, smiling like that...

There was no going back.

I didn’t care about logic or explanations anymore. I had no intention of ever letting her go.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the blue-haired woman watching us. A faint smile tugged at her lips, a rare softness in her otherwise annoyed expression. Even amid all the tension lingering in the room—centuries-old grudges, suspicion, and the uneasy air that came from humans and vampires sharing the same space—Levina was like a light cutting through the fog. Innocent. Pure.

Even Ernest, who’d practically snarled upon seeing Alicia and Amaya, was silent now.

"Interesting..."

I looked up and found Samael watching Levina with a hand to his chin, a smirk curling his lips.

"What’s with that creepy chuckle?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Creepy?" He asked, raising a brow like I’d just insulted his entire bloodline.

"Yeah, you," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "So how about you take your weird smirk and join the others over there? I still don’t trust any of you. Especially after you tried to kill me."

"We didn’t try to kill you," said the platinum-blonde woman coolly.

"Yeah!" the blue-haired one snapped, folding her arms beneath her chest. "If we really wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

"Mm. No doubt about that," Ernest muttered as he stepped forward. "So enough games—just tell us what you’re here for, Amael."