Francis stood before the bed after the sordid deed, taking his time to tie his bowtie. A toothy, satisfied grin curled his crimson lips, his teeth gleaming under the light.
The woman on the bed was also smiling, but her eyes were closed. Her smile was blissful and sweet, as if she were having a nice dream.
“Sleep tight, my darling.” Francis sent a flying kiss her way before striding out of the room.
The House of Peacocks’ business was booming that night. The first floor’s lobby was filled with Ellanderians winding down after a day’s work. The bartender was shaking the booze at blinding speed, while the laborers were wiping off the sweat and beer from their chins before downing another glass of cheap, intoxicating wine.
The gamblers were standing around the table, staring unblinkingly at the rare Gwent cards and the gleaming pile of crowns on the board. The dolled-up waitresses were moving around the lobby, serving drinks to the customers. Once in a while, some patrons would cop a feel of their butts, and they would chuckle with lust.
All of a sudden, the bard on the stage plucked away at his lute at a faster pace, hyping the lobby up. The slightly heavy air from earlier was swept away as the musicians played an upbeat tune with the garmon. The patrons started laughing, cheering, and dancing. They sweated, drank, and played into the night, indulging themselves in decadence.
Francis was looking down from the second floor. He extended his arms, closed his eyes, and took a deep, indulgent breath.
The dress of the dancer
Wouldn’t you have a rest
And drink in this enjoyable zest
He nodded in approval. “It’s a good night tonight. Inspiration keeps flowing.” He went down and jostled against the throng as he twirled his fingers, thinking about his unfinished poem.
When he was about to get to the door, someone suddenly blocked his way, and a young man with golden eyes raised a glass at him. “Care to have a drink, coroner?”
“Oh, when did you get here? I didn’t see you. Looks like indulging too much in women has dulled my senses.” Francis sat down in frustration. “So, why did you ask for me, witcher? I don’t think it’s for a simple glass of wine, eh?”
Roy shoved him a glass of booze. “Just wondering why you would frequent a brothel at night after working with the dead for a whole day when most people would be thinking about their life choices.”
Francis took a sip of the liquor and grinned toothily. “Easy. The living and the dead are both beautiful in their own rights. They deserve an anthology of poems to describe their beauty. I take a lot of inspiration for my poems from the flesh of the living and the somber decadence of death.”
“I see you’re as passionate for poems as ever,” Roy praised him.
“Of course. I’m a poet, first and foremost. Everything else comes second, including my job as coroner. Poems are the most beautiful thing in the world. Nothing comes close to it,” Francis said convincingly. His voice was piercing and passionate. Even though the lobby was loud, everyone could still hear him clearly.
“I have a suggestion,” Roy said. “You don’t have to focus on just the living and the dead for your poems. Expand your horizons. Take inspiration from something else.”
“Nature, buildings, and such.”
“Nothing is more epic than life and death.” He puffed his chest. “Why should I stoop so low for my poems?”
“Very well, then.” Roy shrugged. “But the living and the dead are different things for me. They aren’t the same species anymore, just like how monsters and humans are different.”
Francis crossed his arms, and Roy continued, “Corpses can spread diseases and plagues that can wipe out humanity, be turned into puppets of destruction by necromancers, and some can even give birth and nourish necrophages. The dead are the enemies of the living.”
“I almost forgot you were a witcher.” Francis leaned back languidly. “I knew your kind wouldn’t be artistic enough to create poems over wine. Everything is a dichotomy to you. Someone’s either human or non-human to your kind. They’re either prey or clients, am I right? I know you’d disagree, but mere words won’t be enough to change my mind. I have a dream.”
“Oh, no.” Roy smiled warmly, and he finally cut to the chase, “All I’m saying is to not get obsessed with death and corpses. And you should never please the living with a gift of death.”
“What are you talking about?” Francis shot up, and the temperature around him dropped sharply. The patrons around him started curling up, as if they were assailed by a cold gale.
Roy stood up, too. He finished the whole glass of wine and heaved a sigh of satisfaction. “I came across something interesting in the city recently. A non-human has fallen in love with a human woman. And that woman’s a noble. That non-human did a lot of seemingly incomprehensible things to show his love for her. And no, I’m not talking about dwarves or elves here.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve heard of stories where succubuses ‘fell in love’ with humans only for the men to get their life sucked out of them. I’ve also heard of how an ancient higher vampire fell in love with a human woman just to be played like a fool in the end. But none of their love was as deep as the non-human in this city’s. He killed and killed, risking the exposure of his hidden identity just to please the woman he loves.” Roy smiled. “Mr. Francis, or should I call you a higher vampire, now? I’m not a fool who only demands blood. Now, let us talk in peace.”
Roy’s voice was drowned out by the noises in the lobby, but he knew Francis heard everything clearly.
And then, Francis smiled at him, revealing a pair of sharp, canine teeth. Roy cast Observe on him again and realized the grey ball of energy behind Francis had turned into a gigantic, humanoid bat.
Age: Three hundred and ten years old
Status: Coroner, poet, higher vampire (A higher vampire has bared his fangs at you. You have seen through the veil shrouded in red, revealing his true form. Higher vampires rest at the top of the vampire pyramid. Compared to his lower brethren, higher vampires’ behaviors resemble that of humans.)
HP: ?? (Requires higher Perception)
Crimson Hunger ??: Higher vampires do not need blood for sustenance, but they can get addicted to blood. Consuming fresh blood in battle allows them to heal normal injuries quickly.
Hyper Regeneration ??: Garlic, fire, and wooden stakes are ineffective against higher vampires. They have a long life expectancy and possess powerful regenerative abilities. Even if they are decapitated or have their hearts gouged out, they can regenerate their lost organs slowly. Some powerful higher vampires can revive, even after being turned to ash, though it would take a long time.
In a sense, only a higher vampire can vanquish a higher vampire.
Hypnosis ??: Casts a hypnotic spell on the target, causing them to open up and listen to the caster’s orders.
Invisibility ??: Changes the color of the caster’s skin, allowing them to blend in with their environment. The human eye is unable to see through the caster’s camouflage.
Spread ??: Turns into a group of bats and dodges any incoming attacks. Allows for high-speed movement.
Scarlet Summoning ??: Allows the caster to forcibly command any nearby, low-ranking bloodsuckers to assist them in battle. Including but not limited to: bats, bruxa, and ekimmara.
Flesh of Blood ??: Releases all the power contained within the caster, turning them into a gigantic bat. The caster’s stats are greatly increased in this form, and they gain the ability to fly. The caster will be overwhelmed by bloodlust and lose all sanity. They will also grow fangs and claws.
Higher Perception required for more information.’
Roy gulped and froze.
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