The First Vampire

“Name? Where are you from? What is your purpose in White Dew City?”

The man glanced at the distracted guard and spat out a name, “Vincent St. Prowse.”

“Oh, an entrance tax of three copper coins is required to enter the city…” The guard began to recite his script unconsciously, but soon after, he reacted and finally looked up with a surprised expression at the man in front of him.

“Ma…Marquis!” The guard finally recognized Vincent and immediately bowed in salutation.

His cry of astonishment caused a slight disturbance at the city gate. Shortly after, the knight on duty at this gate hurried over and welcomed Marquis Vincent into the city.

Marquis Vincent did not linger at the town gate and directly headed towards White Dew Fortress. However, his pace was not quick, he meandered through the city on horseback, not only to observe the changes in his long departed hometown but also to allow some preparation time for the fortress.

Marquis Vincent was quite curious about what expression his father might exhibit upon seeing him again.

By the time he reached White Dew Fortress, the butler had already led a group of attendants lined up at the door to welcome him.

“Young master, you have returned!”

Marquis Vincent nodded, dismounted, handed off the reins to an attendant, and asked the butler, “Where is my father?”

“The master is in the study. Would you like to freshen up before you meet him?”

“I’ll go see my father directly.”

Marquis Vincent took a wet wipe from the maid, wiped his face, and headed towards the study.

Everything in the castle was as he remembered, as if nothing had changed, yet Marquis Vincent was acutely aware that much had changed here since his capture in Silver Moon City.

Although the attendants he encountered were as respectful as ever, Marquis Vincent keenly sensed a subtle shift in their gazes.

Upon reaching the third floor of the castle via the spiral staircase, Marquis Vincent stopped in front of the study, straightened his collar, and then knocked on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in.”

Marquis Vincent took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Father, I’m back!”

Duke St. Prowse, who was engaged in a game with the Duchess, put down his crystal chess piece, looked up at his eldest son, and said without emotion:

“I didn’t expect you to dare to come back.”

With a light smile, Marquis Vincent replied, “Father, what are you talking about? This is my home. How could I not dare to return?”

Sensing the escalating tension between father and son, the duchess slowly rose, walked over to her son, and helped fix his somewhat disheveled hair, sighing, “You must have suffered a lot from this trip to Silver Moon City.”

A warmth grew in Marquis Vincent’s heart, and his smile became more genuine. “Mother going to Silver Moon City was my decision. No matter what I had to endure, I wouldn’t resent anyone. After all, I do need to take responsibility for the failure of that operation and I won’t try to escape it.

But I cannot tolerate someone stabbing me in the back!”

Duke St. Prowse shifted his gaze and asked, “Who stabbed you in the back?

With a cold smile, Marquis Vincent responded, “Who else could it be but my dear brother Evan?”

Duke St. Prowse remained silent, as if in deep thought about something.

The duchess took her son by the hand and sat him down on the sofa. She then poured him a cup of tea. Upon hearing Evan’s name, she immediately asked:

“Where is Evan, by the way? Didn’t he come back with you?”

Marquis Vincent gave his mother a wronged look and said angrily, “How could I dare to return with him? Who knows if Evan would confirm my ‘death’ on the way back?”

The duchess frowned and scolded, “How can you suspect your own brother like this!”

“Am I wronging him?” Marquis Vincent sneered, “Didn’t he keep insisting that I had been assassinated in Silver Moon City?”

Instead of answering the question, Duke St. Prowse asked, “How exactly did you manage to get back here?”

“Of course I was traded back with half of your Pegasus Navy fleet!” Marquis Vincent replied matter-of-factly, “Weren’t all the conditions agreed upon? Count Angler received those warships and released me in Alfalfa City. But I didn’t dare to meet my ‘well-wishing’ brother who has been cursing my death. So, I took a boat alone down the Angry River and returned to White Dew City.”

After Marquis Vincent finished his story, the study fell into silence for a while.

After a long while, Duke St. Prowse finally asked, “Didn’t you know what happened in Alfalfa City afterwards?”

“What happened?” Marquis Vincent looked puzzled.

Duke St. Prowse picked up a letter from his desk and said, “This is a letter from Evan sent back from Alfalfa City. You can read it for yourself.”

Marquis Vincent put down his tea cup, got up, walked over to the desk, and began to read the letter.

Bang!

“This is slander!” Marquis Vincent slammed the letter on the table and angrily shouted, “I don’t know what happened in Alfalfa City afterwards or how it turned out this way, but his claim that I conspired with North Territory to betray Count Howell is an utter joke!

Why would I do that?

And if that were the case, how would I dare to return to White Dew City alone?

Clearly, Evan is trying to shift the blame of the defeat onto me!”

Duke St. Prowse observed his son’s expression carefully, seemingly trying to find flaws in his argument.

Obviously angered by his father’s scrutiny, Marquis Vincent shouted back at him:

“Father, can’t you see? Evan planned this entire conspiracy from the start. It just backfired!

First, he had Viscount Fein lie, saying I was assassinated in Silver Moon City, in order to convince you to support him as the next Duke of the East Territory. Then he used the excuse of taking revenge for me, claiming to retaliate against East Territory but in reality purging the forces that supported me, paving the way for his ascension to power.

That I conspired with the North Territory and betrayed Count Howell?

Clearly, he’s the one who forced Howell to turn his back in his attempt to eliminate his opposition!

Father, at this point do you still believe in his nonsense?”

Duke St. Prowse did not respond. He just watched his son silently, and it was unclear if he believed Marquis Vincent’s story.

After a while, it was the duchess who broke the silence, “Alright, Vincent, you must be tired from your journey. Go rest for now. We will definitely find out what really happened in Alfalfa City.”

“Alright.” Marquis Vincent nodded and left the study.

After the door closed again, Duke St. Prowse looked at his wife and asked:

“Do you believe what he just said?”

The duchess shook her head and said:

“I don’t.”