The First Vampire

The sun rose as usual, heralding another extraordinarily good weather.

The azure sky was devoid of any impurities, as pristine as the innocent dreams of a young girl.

However, looking at the scorched city wall of Silver Moon City, Marquis Vincent’s face darkened somewhat.

He had no inkling of what had transpired within Silver Moon City, but he could guess from the renewed spirit of the city’s guard—they were gearing up for a difficult fight.

Just as he furrowed his brow in contemplation, uproarious cheers suddenly erupted from within the city.

Not long after, he saw a fragile figure standing atop the city wall of Silver Moon City.

She appeared frail, as if a gust of wind could blow her away.

Yet she also exuded unyielding determination, as if nothing could break her spirit.

That beautiful figure in red stood on the city wall, sending the entire Silver Moon City into a frenzy.

Each wave of her hand ignited deafening cheers within the city.

“Is that the Half-Elf Queen?” said Marquis Vincent, his voice laden with a complex mix of emotions.

Awe, envy, anger, and even an undeniable desire to possess…

“Yes, my lord,” responded Viscount Auston, nodding his head, yet a wave of confusion washed over him.

When did Queen Isa become so revered in Silver Moon City?

Witnessing the rising momentum within the city, Marquis Vincent realized he could not afford to wait any longer. It seemed like the half-elves were not planning to surrender and had resolved to follow the North Territory’s lead.

So, he made a bitter determination, “Issue my military order: attack the city!”

“Yes, sir!”

A shrill military horn abruptly interrupted Queen Isa’s show.

Her brows furrowed, she pushed away the maid by her side, pointed towards the direction of the city’s outskirts, and said loudly, “My people, our enemies have brandished their butcher knives. What should we do?”

“Fight to the death!”

“Fight to the death!”

The morale within Silver Moon City had reached its pinnacle; many half-elf soldiers were itching to engage in close combats, willing to risk their lives.

Such a situation would never have occurred among half-elves in the past.

In previous times, this city would have surrendered long ago.

The current half-elf army, although under-trained and perhaps not fierce in their fighting strength, displayed stronger determination to fight more than ever before.

Amidst the deafening war cries, the brutal siege warfare finally commenced.

Soldiers swarmed like ants, and arrows poured down like locusts.

Eastern soldiers, in large numbers, braved the arrow showers to fill ditches and rush to the city wall. They set up ladders and scrambled upwards.

Greeting them were arrows, boulders, and hot oil, ceaselessly plummeting from above.

Shrill screams and painful cries instantly dominated this battlefield.

The glaring, unstoppable flow of crimson became the key color of this battlefield.

The half-elves and the Easterners, together transformed the above and beneath of the city wall of Silver Moon city into a grinding mill of flesh and blood.

The city wall started to show blotches amidst the brutal battle. Corpses piled up on the ramparts, with blood trickling down the battlements, merging with the blood splattered onto the wall.

The previously beautiful and exquisite Silver Moon City had been transformed into a terrifying and horrifying sight.

The soil underneath the city had become soft and muddy, stained with an undercurrent of dark red.

Not until sunset did the Eastern army cease their relentless aggression which had lasted the entire day.

Countless soldiers retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind a grotesque array of corpses.

These lifeless bodies encompassed Silver Moon City, as if hell itself had been replicated in the real world.

Subsequently, raging flames ignited both inside and outside the city, marking the start of both sides burning their dead and cleaning up the battlefield.

The air was saturated with a repugnant smell of burnt flesh, with a scent so nauseating it made one want to retch.

After experiencing the tenacity of the half-elf defenders on the first day, Marquis Vincent couldn’t help but shiver.

He couldn’t comprehend where the feeble and helpless half-elves, who surrendered instantly when faced with the Imperial Army, had gone.

How had they transformed overnight, as though they were a completely different race?

What chilled him even more was that, according to the Eastern soldiers who had charged the city tower and then retreated, those defending the city were all half-elves, with no human presence accounted for.

Therefore, the Black Cavalry was probably not within the city!

This supposition did not surprise Marquis Vincent, but rather fit his expectations.

Were he Colin, he would also not use a precious unit of cavalry to defend the city. Instead, he would deploy them outside the city, waiting for the Eastern army’s failed siege and subsequent exhaustion, and attack them from behind to secure a decisive victory.

Fearing this hidden Black Cavalry, Marquis Vincent felt as though he had a thorn in his back while attacking the city. He couldn’t feel safe attacking with full force, reserving the majority of his troops for potential rearguard action instead.

By now, Marquis Vincent was caught between a rock and a hard place.

The thought of withdrawing resurfaced in his mind once again, but in the end, he denied it.

He couldn’t retreat in such utter defeat back to the Eastern Territory.

Otherwise, he would carry the stigma of being defeated by half-elves for his entire life.

How could he contentedly seize the Duke’s seat with such a disgrace? How could he make the Eastern nobility willingly swear their allegiance?

Half of the Pegasus Army had suffered a loss under his rule, and if he couldn’t conquer the Silver Moon City, he wouldn’t even pass muster with his father.

He was aware that Duke St. Prowse had many children, particularly Count Evan, who was so astute that even his father feared him a little.

Marquis Vincent was not the sole contender for the Duke position.

Therefore, Marquis Vincent could only grit his teeth and continue the siege.

By now, he resembled a desperate gambler whose losses could ruin him, but he couldn’t stop.

As soon as dawn broke the next day, the drumming of the war drums resounded, and the attack on the city began again.

It was crude, bloody, and brutal…

To the commanders, human lives in these battles were reduced to cold, hard numbers, not stirring a sliver of compassion or hesitation.

There was indeed no room for excessive benevolence in this large-scale warfare, for it was synonymous with weakness.

Once detected and exploited by the enemy, disaster was bound to ensue.

Although the half-elves’ casualties were severe at this point, Queen Isa’s and Colin’s operation had successfully triggered their fighting spirit. A large number of new soldiers were promptly conscripted, rapidly replenishing the city’s frontline forces.

Queen Isa would occasionally make a personal inspection on the city tower.

Every time her figure appeared, the frontline half-elf warriors would burst forth with astonishing combat power.

However, as compared to the half-elves, the Eastern army appeared more elite.

On the third day, the south wall of Silver Moon City almost fell.

Fortunately, Colin noticed the precarious situation and promptly ordered Sir Lyle and Sir Teld to lead the Angler and St. Hilde family’s armies to help. They managed to repel the Eastern soldiers that had charged the city.

This failure intensified the Easterners’ feelings of despair.

On the fourth day, the siege temporarily halted.