Chapter 13: Vandro Night Banquet (1)

The night sky was clear and washed clean.

The train from Kent traveled across the central plains.

The carriage was empty.

Claire occupied an entire bench in the back row alone.

She lay on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling, yet her gaze seemed to pierce through it and look much farther away.

Because of the riot in the Containment Zone, the train had been delayed at Kent Station for a full twelve hours.

Passengers with urgent business had long since lost patience. 

Some had refunded their tickets. Others had chosen faster means of travel.

As a result, this train carried unusually few people.

Claire rested her feet casually on the seatback in front of her and swung them idly.

In the past, whenever she traveled for missions, Liz had always been by her side.

Claire did not like to talk, but Liz could always find topics. 

She would chatter on about what she had seen and heard, pulling Claire along to admire the scenery outside the window or share desserts from the train.

Yet now, only the dull silence of a summer night surrounded her. Claire felt strangely unaccustomed to it.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, but scenes from last night’s massacre kept flashing through her mind.

The cruel slaughter by the giant dragon and the police. 

The desperate cries of the innocent demonkin residents. 

Liz’s cold figure stepping aside from the church doors, allowing the area beneath the holy statue to turn into a sea of blood.

Afterward, Liz had left a summons for the hearing in Claire’s hospital room, then ridden out of the city alone without explaining anything.

Claire had thought that in her life as a vampire she would never have any more friends, nor would she invest feelings in anyone. 

Everything she did was for the sake of returning to the Southern Continent.

Yet during the three years of academy training and field missions, Liz had warmed her life like the spring sun, making her accustomed to that companionship and kindness.

She could not understand why that kind Liz would stand by and watch people die.

She understood even less why Liz had chosen silence and had not confided anything to her.

This feeling of betrayal made Claire feel as though a great hole had cracked open in her heart, empty and hollow.

Reading the hearing documents, Claire could not suppress the anger in her chest.

The documents had blatantly rewritten the entire course of the riot incident beyond recognition.

Those innocent demonkin residents were either labeled as terrorists who had been shot or as hostages who had been sacrificed. 

The entire Containment Zone had no survivors.

Meanwhile, the city hall, the Dragon Guard, and the Cerberus Bureau had become heroes who successfully stopped the Mutual Aid Society and were being loudly praised.

She understood. This was a grand deception, a lie woven with the blood of innocents.

Even though she herself was a beneficiary of this deception, the dignity of her noble birth would not allow her to tolerate such hypocrisy and evil.

The train slowly slid into the station.

Milky-white steam poured from the exhaust pipes like a waterfall, spreading across the exquisite marble platform.

People meeting the train began to grow excited. Some shouted family members’ names. Others waved silk handkerchiefs and jumped.

Some of them had already been waiting for nearly a day.

The little boy in the seat ahead pressed his entire body against the window. 

His eyes sparkled with wonder at the unknown world.

For someone who had lived their whole life in Kent, the splendor of Londinium was unimaginable.

The station itself was an astonishing architectural masterpiece.

A massive steel dome covered the station like a turtle shell, supported by skeletal iron frames.

Outside the station, luxurious limousines lined up in long rows. 

Drivers stood respectfully holding the doors, waiting for honored guests to arrive.

Compared to Kent, automobiles were far more common in Londinium.

Wealthy households had long since abandoned carriages. 

The streets had also been designed specifically for cars—broad and straight.

Limousines sped along the roads. The light from their headlamps shone like two parallel shooting stars.

But in truth, throughout human history, the north had always lagged behind the south.

Three hundred years ago, the largest city in the north still had only tens of thousands of people, while the imperial capital beneath the Platinum Tower was already a supercity with hundreds of thousands of residents.

Today’s prosperity in the Northern Continent was all thanks to Queen Christine seventy years ago.

Christine, once the princess of Albion, had left her homeland amid the smoke of the war between humans and demons and begun her legendary journey.

Her travels covered both continents. She became the host of the fire elemental god and came to know many heroes.

On the grass sea, she supported a friend to become the Great Khan of the Twin Moons.

During the witch hunts in the Southern Continent, she saved the lives of many mages and vampires.

Beneath the cardinal’s seat, she won the support of the Pope’s army.

On islands shrouded in sea fog, she allied with the reclusive elves.

In the palace of lava, she called upon the dragon race to join the war. The rulers of the sky became her allies.

When Christine once again set foot on Northern Continent soil, she was followed by an army of the Fire Rose—fire dragons, beastkin cavalry, elven mages, vampire warriors, Church knights, and adventurer volunteers.

At her side were the host of the water god, the Khan of the beastkin, and the hero who wielded the holy sword.

In the campaigns against the Demon King’s army, Christine won battle after battle and finally surrounded and annihilated the Demon King and his remaining forces in Agate, the old capital of Albion.

After the war, the Pope of the Southern Continent personally traveled north to canonize Christine. She became the sixth saint of the various holy churches.

The King of Hibernia and the Great Khan of the Twin Moons both willingly offered their crowns and vassals to this saintly king.

But Christine only removed the most dazzling gem from each of their crowns and set the two gems into the crown of Albion.

This act symbolized the union and unification of the Northern Continent.

Thus, the United Kingdom, spanning the entire Northern Continent, made its debut on the stage of history.

At the coronation ceremony of the Supreme King, Christine donned the crown forged from the authority of three kingdoms.

She solemnly declared that the alliance with the elves, the dragon race, and the blood race would continue eternally alongside the Supreme King’s crown.

The old capital Agate had been reduced to ruins during the encirclement battle.

Yet, relying on the magical engineering brought by the elves, an unbelievable great city rose from the central plains.

This was the Londinium of today—the capital of the United Kingdom, the pearl of the north.

The carriage doors opened. Passengers poured out and mingled with those waiting.

Some were family reunions. Some were lovers meeting. 

The reserved ones rubbed their hands and exchanged greetings. The impulsive ones embraced.

Claire, dressed in black, stood among the crowd like a reef in a flowing river.

After graduation, Claire had circled Albion, hunting escaped vampires in various places.

This was her first return to the capital in three years.

Claire let out a soft sigh and prepared to leave the station. 

She would take the clanging tram back to Cerberus Bureau headquarters in the administrative district.

It was a small train that swayed with a copper bell. Sitting on it allowed one to see all of Londinium’s scenery. 

Its only drawback was that it ran very slowly.

But at the moment, Claire was not in a hurry to return to the bureau. 

What awaited her there were mountains of forms and documents, plus the troublesome matters related to the hearing.

“Miss Claire, I have come on your mother’s orders to take you to the family banquet.”

A polite voice sounded behind her.

Claire turned around and saw a young man in a deep-green driver’s uniform standing there.

He was completely different from the other tired, sloppily dressed drivers. 

He stood straight with chest out and abdomen in, gentle yet dignified, almost like a knight wearing a sword.

Claire noticed that the other man, like her, possessed crimson eyes. Clearly, he too was a vampire.

“Family banquet?” Claire asked, somewhat puzzled.

When she had first been brought to the Northern Continent, Herta had once taken her to a Vandro family banquet. She barely remembered anything from that time.

Back then she had been a little princess who only wished to die. 

All she recalled was a resplendent hall filled with red eyes glowing with greedy light.

“Yes. The banquet is about to begin. Lady Herta and Director-General Sibyl have already been waiting for you at Mirror Palace for some time.”

The driver answered respectfully. A trace of imperceptible awe could be heard in his voice.

Claire’s heart tightened.

She had not expected that this time it was Sibyl who wanted to see her.

Sibyl was the only second-generation vampire remaining in the Vandro bloodline today.

Seventy years ago, it was she who had sworn loyalty to Queen Christine, allowing the family to survive the witch hunts. 

Only then had the vampire race been able to rise in the Northern Continent.

More importantly, Sibyl was the current Director-General of the Cerberus Bureau—Claire’s direct superior.

This meeting was very likely related to the upcoming hearing.

“Then let’s depart. We cannot keep the elders waiting.”

Claire said.

She got into the back seat of the limousine. The scenery outside the window began to recede rapidly.

The limousine avoided the flow of traffic and headed north, leaving the bustling city center behind.

A full moon hung in the night sky. Silver light poured down like water, draping the earth in a hazy veil.

Primrose Mountain outside Londinium was the private territory of the Vandro family.

This mountainous region had complex terrain, formed by fractured canyons and jagged rocks. Dense red pine forests spread out like a green carpet.

The Vandro family residence—Mirror Palace—had been cleverly built halfway up the mountain.

The limousine traveled along the winding road beside the cliff. Claire sat quietly in the back seat.

This road cutting through the mountains was extremely narrow, wide enough for only two cars to pass. 

At the moment, theirs was the only vehicle moving slowly along it.

Besides the bright full moon above their heads, what accompanied them were the constantly changing mountain views on both sides.

Occasionally, a few night birds would skim past the roof of the car. 

Their clear chirping sounded especially abrupt in the silent night.

The bumpy mountain road made Claire feel exhausted.

She had already been traveling on the train for an entire day. 

Now she only hoped to reach the destination soon.

She kept shifting her sitting position, trying to find a relatively comfortable spot, but the unease in her heart would not let her truly relax.

Finally, the limousine came to a stop at a certain spot.

When Claire looked out the window, the sight before her took her breath away.

A long bridge built of white stone spanned the rushing torrent deep in the canyon.

Slender yet upright stone pillars stood in the turbulent river. 

This breathtaking bridge rested steadily upon those pillars.

The river water violently struck the rocks, stirring up mist that filled the air, making the entire bridge seem to float above a sea of clouds.

At the other end of the bridge, a magnificent palace building rose from the embrace of the valley. That was Mirror Palace.

Under the moonlight, the glazed tiles of the palace reflected silver light, emitting an awe-inspiring and solemn aura.

“Welcome home, Miss Claire.”