The city of Valderun rolled by as the carriage sped through the nearly empty streets.

  It was just past twilight, and most businesses had closed for the night, with only a few people still out and about. Every day that no solution was found for the political crisis caused by Mallon’s retirement, which had plunged the Magocracy into chaos, people grew more nervous.

  No one knew what to expect now that the greatest stabilizing force within the High Council—the man who had led its founding and whose shoulders had borne the weight of the entire nation for a long time—was about to leave them.

  Would the factions start competing for territory? Would the great leaders, those capable of destroying cities with their might, begin to act openly, without Mallon’s long shadow? The rumors were endless, and they fed off each other so quickly that they almost seemed suspicious, as if someone was propping them up.

  Orion had heard even some witches wondering if it wouldn’t be possible to ask the man to stay, and he was sure such an effort had been made, but the lack of announcement regarding his reinstatement said everything there was to say about how successful it had been.

  If he had been just interested in regaining the upper hand, he could have swooped in now, but the fact that he isn’t means he’s either seriously retiring or waiting for something.

  The possibilities seemed endless, but Orion was pretty sure the mystery would be solved by the time the next High Councilman from the Collegium was elected.

  “Moonbeam, remember not to accept anything without my say so,” Asteria murmured, tapping his thigh to get his attention.

  “I know,” he nodded. “I swear I’m not going to get into another verbal contract with a vampire.”

  Learning the details of his dealings with Esmeralda nearly caused his mother to faint from shock, and Orion was hardly better off when she explained that some rare vampiric classes, starting from the third tier, had a trait that granted them fae-like abilities. This meant that every contract they entered into, whether spoken or written, had to be followed precisely, on pain of severe consequences.

  It was an innate magic that surpassed what shields and wards could defend against, and there were cases of mages breaking contracts with a vampire inside the High Council’s building, hoping to be protected by its powerful wards, only to drop dead without a ripple in the Mana Field.

  His agreement to help Esmeralda was made in good faith, and he’d followed through, even assisting her in escaping from Silverpeak. If he hadn’t, he might not have survived to tell the story.

  That, more than any bloodsucking, made vampires so frightening. They could turn mortals into thralls, and even if they never touched you, their words alone could ensnare even the most powerful people.

  Of course, there was no guarantee Esmeralda had such a prized ability, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk.

  Wait, does that mean that if I hadn’t written a letter, I would have broken another contract forged when I agreed to keep in contact? How literal is the agreement? Does she need to do anything to make it official?

  “See that you don’t,” Asteria sighed, pinching her eyes shut. “Remember that while we are going because of a request from one of the Night Lords, who are the vampiric equivalent of our Veil Priestesses, to meet you, the real reason is probably because they want to gauge Elder Yue’s position on the upcoming vote.”

  Orion nodded along. It wasn’t like he was a particularly social person anyway, so he didn’t feel there was a need to worry about him spilling anything. Especially since he had a different goal for tonight.

  I need to start connecting with more influential people in my generation. The more connected I am, the easier it will be to achieve any goal I set. Bringing the light of reason to this world will require a lot of these connections.

  “Ma’am, we’re here,” the coachman called, and indeed, they had reached the end of the main thoroughfare, where a few darkened side streets began, stretching deeper into the industrial district.

  Only one residential building remained, a massive manor crafted from beautiful red and white marble, with wide-open gates and a carefully curated garden that seemed to shift like shadows, but was actually made of plants hidden from the last rays of sunlight by the building itself.

  “Thank you, Lambert. We will be here for a while, so feel free to get yourself something to eat if you find a place that’s still open,” Asteria said as they got out, passing a few copper coins over and receiving a deep nod.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Orion also noticed that the coachman appeared very relieved to be able to leave, as he kept nervously glancing back at the manor, as if expecting some monster to attack him.

  He might not be wrong, though. That is the lair of some very dangerous beings, all of whom primarily survive on fresh blood. It’s a surprise there aren’t any vampiric attacks, really, considering how little control the ones in Silverpeak seemed to have. This place isn’t much more intimidating than the Sanctum’s embassy, and the witches inside can be just as vicious, but I guess there’s an instinctive understanding to be wary of vampires that’s hard to ignore.

  As if called by his thoughts, a figure emerged from the shadows in the garden, shaping into Esmeralda, whose blood-red eyes shone in the darkness as she greeted them. “Welcome, Voidwalkers, to the Night Lands’ embassy. Please rest assured that the Night Lord’s protection extends to you both during your stay. You have nothing to fear.”

  Orion couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved, especially since if his mother was right and Esmeralda possessed the [Fey Bargain] trait, that single phrase was enough to ensure nothing within the embassy could harm them.

  Asteria, on the other hand, snorted, and ozone filled the air for the briefest moment before subsiding.

  Ever since reaching tier four, whenever her emotions were stirred, the Mana Field seemed to respond sympathetically, and situations like being challenged or told she needed protection would strike her pride fiercely.

  It was understandable given what they had been through. Still, it wasn’t productive now, so she visibly got herself under control and thanked the wide-eyed Esmeralda as if nothing had happened. “We appreciate the Night Lord’s offer.”

  The pleasantries done, they were led further into the garden, away from the marble building, and toward a marquee where several elegantly dressed figures lounged on comfortable recliners, while expressionless servants tended to their every need.

  Having some experience with vampires, Orion quickly realized these servants weren’t paid workers but thralls, and he couldn’t help but step closer to his mother.

  If there was one thing he couldn’t tolerate, it was the idea of losing his free will. While he understood that vampires of a certain level didn’t go around turning everyone they met, and that being chosen for immortality was likely considered an honor, he couldn’t suppress the instinctive disgust he felt.

  “Ah, our much-discussed guests. What a treat!” a cultured, drawling voice called, and Orion got his second look at the Night Lord.

  He’d already met the vampire during his brief time at the High Council, but at that point, he hadn’t paid much attention to him because the more urgent issues—his biological father’s presence and his trial—had occupied all his focus.

  “Night Lord Valentine, it’s a pleasure to meet you again,” his mother greeted, inclining her head.

  Valentine was somewhat unusual for a vampire. Orion had no doubt he earned his status, as being near him felt just as dangerous as being in class with Morliana, one of the most powerful of the Sanctum’s Veil Priestesses. While most vampires around him were young and traditionally beautiful, Valentine was middle-aged and looked almost frail.

  His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back in a dignified manner, and he wore elegant yet simple black and silver robes, with a single massive ruby-red blood crystal hanging at his neck that broke the color harmony, drawing the eye away from his sharp fangs and deep-set eyes.

  For a moment, Nick wondered how much better it was than the one Esmeralda had given him, and what improvements he could make to the CC’s next generation if he got his hands on it, but quickly pushed it out of his mind. That was a treasure worth a kingdom and a half, if he ever saw one.

  “Ah, yes. We did meet before. Such an interesting story, yours. And at the very beginning of the current chaos,” Valentine murmured, causing a titter to rise from the other vampires. Where that should have been taken as a subtle insult, Orion couldn’t help but think it was said with admiration.

  For an old monster like him, this is probably the most interesting time in quite a while. I don’t doubt he’s having a lot of fun playing politics with the fate of the Magocracy at stake.

  Valentine snapped his fingers as if remembering something. “But where are my manners! Please, join us. I had the thralls prepare a feast you could enjoy, so don’t hesitate to reach for anything.”

  At his silent command, the mute thralls quickly arranged dish after dish on the table at the center of the marquee. Soon, some of the vampires stood up to fill plates held by the servants, pointing to what they wanted, and it would be grabbed for them, until they returned to their recliners.

  Fortunately, the thralls weren’t required to hold the plates for them while they ate, but Orion had a sneaky suspicion it was more of an allowance made for their sensibilities than something typically done.

  “Ah, thank you,” he murmured as a handsome young man sidled up behind him, only to be met with silence and lowered eyes.

  “They won’t talk,” Esmeralda said as she joined him at the table, her own servant following behind. “Thralls aren’t allowed to speak unless called upon in front of their sires, and definitely not when a Night Lord is present.”

  Orion silently admitted to himself that he probably wasn’t as prepared for this kind of situation as he thought he’d be. The Radiant Vigil’s squires had been very different from the Sanctum’s witches, but they still felt familiar in some way, and they’d been relatively easy to befriend.

  Vampires, on the other hand, were proving to be more alien than he had thought. Nobody had even made a single aggressive or slightly uncomfortable move toward him yet, but he was still uneasy, and he doubted he’d ever feel completely at ease, given what their culture was like.

  No, no. I can’t give up before I even begin. I might not like it, but I have to remember these people wanted to be turned into silent servants... Ugh, it’s really not that easy.

  Once he’d pointed at a few dishes he thought would be edible, Orion returned to his seat, and his plate was placed on the nearby stool, from which he was supposed to pick at his food while reclining like a Roman emperor.

  An interrogative look at his mother later, her eyes flashed silver for the briefest of moments, and she nodded, seemingly satisfied that nothing in the food would make them sick.

  And given her new class, Orion didn’t doubt that was the case. The vampires could have used the most expensive poisons in the world, and she would have found them.

  Fortunately, it seemed they intended to keep their word.

  “Is this your mysterious friend, then, Esmeralda?” A cold voice came from the other side, where three more recliners were arranged. When Orion looked over, he met the eyes of a stunningly beautiful young woman with golden blonde hair and ruby-red lips that made her pale skin stand out even more.

  Wow. She has to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

  If anything, her beauty only triggered warning signs, since he wasn’t usually one to notice that kind of thing.

  Quick as a whip, Esmeralda grabbed the young woman’s wrist and hissed. “Are you insane, Cordelia? Do not play up your [Charm] here, unless you want the Night Lord to erase you from existence, if the tier four witch eyeing you like a vermin doesn’t get to you first.”