When Mayla finishes telling Arlene about Lucien, a spark of interest appears in her eyes:
"Hmm, it seems Lucien is much more special than he appears," she murmurs with a neutral expression. 'That's why, when we fed on his blood, instead of dying, he became a vampire.'
She thinks about the night Lucien marked them as his; everything was so confusing and strange... the reason that came to mind is that Lucien must have a unique blood type.
Mayla nods in agreement with Arlene's words: "But, Lady Arlene, that vampire is a newborn; he's very unique; it almost seemed as if he wouldn't be affected by instinct. Besides, I'll finish off a group of cultists and regain control."
"Really?" She settled herself on the bed. "That's quite an accomplishment, but remember that Selene is with him; she can knock him out when he's about to lose control."
"Huh? But it seems pretty unique to me. My lady, remember that he's only been a vampire for one day; you know how difficult it is to control that instinct," said Mayla.
Arlene pauses briefly before nodding in agreement. "Good, I have another job for you."
Mayla's expression wrinkles in annoyance; she just arrived, and now she has to start a new job.
"Does it seem like you don't really want to do it?" I ask Arlene, crossing my legs.
"I'm more than willing to do the job, Lady Arlene."
She smiles with satisfaction: "Good, that's the attitude a vampire should have. Now, what I want you to do is investigate more about that vampire named Loic, who was so important that he stole."
"As you say, my lady," Mayla curtsies and disappears from the room.
Seeing that Mayla has left, Arlene looks up at the ceiling; then, for a moment, her eyes turn red as blood, then return to normal.
"It seems I have to go see my husband to check with my own eyes if he is as special as Selene paints him."
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Lucien and Selene arrived at the place where she lived.
He then remembered that he hadn't been back to his house since he became a vampire.
'Well, it's only been a day, but I have to get some clothes.' He didn't pay much attention to the small apartment where she lived.
But when they arrived, they were met with a surprising scene: the door to the house was open; in the garden, several lifeless people lay in their suits, with an inverted cross around their necks.
They were Cultists.
"Those worms are becoming increasingly arrogant," Selene murmurs with an annoyed expression.
The entire entrance is stained with blood, but Selene doesn't care and enters the house, followed by Lucien, who looks around cautiously.
The interior remained just as dark, but the air reeked of blood; moreover, the entire floor was stained.
Suddenly, a shadow shoots toward them, but Selene just snaps her fingers with a neutral expression.
And in front of them lies a frozen cultist: "Heh, those bastards have invaded my home." Selene's tone was icy.
She stomps hard on the frozen body.
Crack!
It breaks into multiple pieces. Selene continued forward, following the blood trail that led to the basement.
"Aha!"
"Kugh!"
"Huek!"
As they advanced, cultists continued to appear, but they were all killed by Selene, who showed no mercy and wore an icy expression.
The fact that they had invaded his home soured his mood to the utmost.
After killing all the cultists they encountered, they finally made their way to the basement.
Once they reached the spacious basement, Lucien looked at a human woman in the corner of the room, trembling with cold and fear.
But he immediately sensed that something about this woman was not normal. What is this? What is this feeling?
He moved a little closer and tilted his head like a curious cat. "What the hell are you?" he asked in a neutral tone, but his eyes glowed an intense blood red.
"Hiiii!" The woman shuddered when she heard his voice. "No... no... I won't do that ritual, please; if I do, I'll turn into a demon." The fear was evident; she even stuttered.
"???" Lucien looked at the woman, bewildered. What was she talking about? Turning into a demon? Was there a ritual to turn into a demon?
However, his thoughts were interrupted by an intoxicating scent that invaded him.
It wasn't a typical scent; it was sweet, warm, as if his own blood was calling him. Instinctively, he swallowed hard.
"What's your name?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure, even though his fangs threatened to show.
The woman looked at him cautiously. "I don't have a name..." she replied quietly, suspiciously, but without looking away.
Selene approaches with a neutral expression: "What's your blood type?" she asks, resisting the temptation to drink his blood.
"Null RH," she replies fearfully.
"I see..." Selene nods, understanding why she is attracted to blood: "Well, then, what shall we do with you?"
The woman clutched herself tightly; it was as if those words were her death sentence.
Lucien looked at the woman's appearance. She had long, slightly curly dark brown hair; tired, beautiful, honey-colored eyes; pale skin; and a body so well-formed that even when she trembled, she retained a natural sensuality and D-cup breasts. She was approximately 5'9" tall.
"I think it's a waste to kill her," Lucien said after seeing her appearance.
"Why? They broke into my house and caused a mess." Selene frowns.
Lucien smiles: "It's because I want to learn the ritual of becoming demons." That opens up possibilities for him to cure his mother.
The more he knows about this supernatural world, the better.
Selene looked at him for a moment before nodding her head: "Fine, but this won't happen again."
"What is your name?" he asked.
"I don't have a name," replied the brown-haired woman.
"Can I give you one?"
She nodded. After all, her life was in his hands. If she refused, they could kill her.
"Vanessa..." She blinked and murmured, lost. Her lips curved slightly, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Vanessa... that's my name. I have a name..." Her voice broke, but it sounded as if she had just remembered that she existed.
Selene watched the scene with indifference, although deep down a spark of curiosity shone in her eyes.
Lucien, for his part, felt something strange... a slight, unfamiliar twinge.
'Why do I feel this? I just gave her a name...'