After wandering around the city for a while without finding anything particularly interesting, Valred decided it was time to head back to Drakenhof Castle to continue his magical experiments. However, just as the carriage approached the city gate, something caught his attention, prompting him to exclaim, "Huh?"
Through the carriage window, he spotted a modest, low-end tavern—nothing unusual in itself. After a long day of work, it was common for the city's residents to spend a few copper coins on cheap beer or indulge in the company of the tavern's gaudy waitresses. The vampire rulers of Sylvania had no issue with such activities.
What drew Valred's attention was a group of men inside the tavern, eating and drinking heartily. It was still early in the evening, so the tavern was nearly empty, making the group all the more conspicuous. They were loud, boisterous, and impossible to ignore.
These men stood out starkly. They were burly, rough, and uncouth, with coarse skin, yellowed teeth, and dull eyes—clearly lacking in refinement. But what Valred found intolerable was that they were armed.
In Sylvania, humans were strictly forbidden from bearing arms. They could amass wealth through trade, acquire vast estates, or build luxurious mansions—but under no circumstances were they allowed to possess weapons of any kind. This was one of the most rigid laws enforced by the vampire rulers.
Yet these men were equipped with swords, axes, maces, and shields. One had a crossbow at his feet, while two others carried short bows. Their attire was distinctly militaristic, featuring scale mail, chain shirts, leather armor, and even the standard breastplates of the Empire of Sigmar, devoid of insignia or heraldry. It was clear they were soldiers.
"Fully armed human soldiers here? How unusual," Valred thought, his curiosity piqued.
He began to speculate about their identity. Enemies? Unlikely. They didn't seem like lunatics or superhuman warriors capable of taking on an entire army. Just a short distance away, at the northern city gate, a regiment of Tomb Guards and skeleton soldiers was stationed. If these men were enemies, the undead would have already acted. In fact, if they were truly hostile, they wouldn't be here drinking and eating so casually.
Friends, then? Impossible. Valred had never heard of any change in family policy allowing the recruitment of human soldiers.
Unable to figure it out, Valred decided to stop pondering and take action. He stepped out of the carriage and headed toward the tavern. Maya, his maid, tried to stop him, but Valred brushed her off. Reluctantly, she followed.
As a vampire noble—albeit a young one—Valred's presence on the street couldn't be ignored. The people of Drakenhof, who had pretended not to notice him in the carriage, now had to show respect. After all, this was a vampire-ruled land, and disrespecting its rulers was unthinkable.
The crowd parted, bowing and offering blessings. Valred accepted their fearful politeness with ease, while Maya, feeling out of place, nervously returned their gestures. Valred shot her a disapproving look, and she quickly stopped, keeping her head down as she followed him.
Valred pushed open the tavern door and stepped inside. Instead of confronting the soldiers directly, he approached the bar. With a series of seven hand gestures, he cast a levitation spell, rising to the same height as the tavern keeper.
"Y-Young master… what can I get for you?" the tavern keeper stammered, overwhelmed by the presence of a vampire noble. He had never imagined that one of the castle's reclusive elites would visit his humble establishment.
"A cup of warm milk," Valred replied.
"…Huh?"
The response left everyone in the tavern, including Maya, stunned. The tavern keeper, equally baffled, hesitated before quickly agreeing. "Y-Yes, right away!" He planned to rush out and buy some milk from the nearest inn to appease the young noble.
Before the flustered keeper could leave, one of the soldiers burst into laughter, slamming his hand on the table. "Who's this little lordling?! This isn't your place. If you want milk, go home and ask your mommy for it, hahaha!"
His companions, horrified, tried to silence him, but it was too late. Valred smiled.
"Ah…"
Though it was just a soft chuckle, it sent a chill through the room, as if everyone's hearts had momentarily stopped.
Valred turned to face the insolent soldier, his smile widening. The man suddenly screamed, clutching his ears before collapsing onto the table.
Seeing their comrade attacked, the soldiers sprang into action, overturning tables and drawing their weapons.
"Stay back! Don't provoke the noble!" their leader, a man in a dull breastplate, shouted, stepping forward. He bowed deeply to Valred. "My subordinate was out of line. Please forgive us. We'll leave immediately."
He turned to flee, but a sudden gust of wind slammed the tavern door shut.
"Leaving so soon? You're making this too simple," Valred said coolly.
"What do you want?" the leader asked, holding back his agitated men.
"Sylvania is a land of strict laws, and I consider myself a fair ruler. I can overlook your rudeness, but that man—" Valred pointed to the unconscious soldier. "He insulted my mother. You may leave. He stays."
"Agreed."
To Valred's surprise, the leader accepted without hesitation. Some of the soldiers, who seemed close to the unconscious man, protested, "Captain! How can you do this?!"
"Enough! My decision is final!" the captain barked, his authoritative gaze silencing his men. It was clear he commanded respect among his group.