Chapter 662: [Blood Moon War] [7] Ernest Olphean

I kept still, my back pressed against the cold, mossy wall of the narrow alley, Alicia tucked in close beside me. The clatter of hooves echoed off the surrounding stone buildings, rhythmic as armored riders paraded down the street just meters from where we hid.

Alicia shifted beside me, her expression twisted in confusion. "Why exactly are we hiding?" She whispered, her brows furrowing beneath the shadow of her hood.

I didn’t even glance at her. My eyes stayed fixed on the street as I murmured, "Because you’re a Vampire, and I am pretty sure everyone in this town would love nothing more than to light a pyre and toss you on top of it."

"I’m covering my face," she said flatly, one hand pressing against my chest as I held her back against the wall.

I turned to her slowly, brows raised. "You can’t seriously believe that’s enough."

A hood? Really?

Her delicate features might have been partially hidden, but anyone with half a brain and a good mana sensitivity would feel it—the unnatural aura clinging to her like perfume. And I could feel someone like that nearby. Someone dangerous.

Alicia broke eye contact and glanced to the side. "...Can you move? You’re... a little close."

"Just a moment," I muttered, still peering past the edge of the alley.

That overwhelming presence—it was getting closer.

I waited until he finally came into view.

Riding at the center of the column was a tall man on a majestic white horse that made the others look like mules in comparison. He was in his twenties, maybe, with blond hair tied neatly at the back, and sharp amber eyes. His armor gleamed like polished ivory, and emblazoned across his chest was the clear crest of the Olphean House. Flags bearing the same emblem fluttered around him.

The people lining the streets erupted into cheers as he passed, and he gave them a flawless smile while raising his hand in a regal wave. He basked in the adoration like he was born for it.

Alicia who also saw him spoke. "Is that your ancestor or something?"

"No," I replied.

I didn’t take my eyes off him.

At that very moment, his head turned.

His eyes locked onto the alley.

Right onto us.

Shit.

I reacted instinctively, pressing in closer, turning my face away and leaning into Alicia, hiding her further behind me. My cheek nearly brushed hers, her breath suddenly warm against my skin.

Had he really seen us?

Or was it a coincidence?

I didn’t want to find out because I will have to fight otherwise and clearly it won’t be as easy as against that Witch Commander.

Focus. I needed to focus.

But Alicia’s scent—it was overwhelming. Her blood sang in my senses, warm, rich, maddening. The glimpse of her neck through her hood was there, pale and smooth, and I had to clench my teeth to keep my fangs—wait, I wasn’t a damn Vampire.

And yet... I understood the craving.

Was that because she bit and sucked my blood so I felt some kind of reverse effect?

I remember having that effect whenever Elizabeth bit me.

"Ah... um..."

A breathy, trembling sound escaped Alicia’s lips.

I glanced down, barely moving. Her hands were balled into fists, gripping the fabric of my hoodie like her life depended on it. Her eyes were shut tight, her face flushed.

Was she...?

Oh, no.

She was feeling it too, wasn’t she?

That craving.

The pull of blood.

I guess once you’ve had a taste, it never really leaves you. Even for someone like Alicia, it must’ve been hard not to fall back into that instinct.

"Don’t move," I whispered.

We waited in silence.

The blond knight had halted his horse, still waving to the crowd like the embodiment of nobility and charm.

"Just fuck off," I muttered under my breath annoyed until the blond knight finally turned his horse and disappeared down the main road with the rest of his entourage.

As soon as he vanished from sight, I exhaled a long breath and pushed myself off the wall, finally giving Alicia a bit of space. "Let’s move. We’ll take the long way around."

She nodded, her own sigh of relief mirroring mine. Her fingers slowly uncurled from my hoodie, and she stepped back into the narrow sunlight peeking through the alley’s mouth.

Walking beside her again, I couldn’t help but notice how much harder everything became with Alicia here. Not just because she was a Vampire—though that was a massive problem—but because of who we were about to meet. Viessa.

Meeting her under normal circumstances would’ve been complicated enough... bringing Alicia along was asking for a disaster.

Vampires were clearly not welcome here. I hadn’t seen a single one since we arrived. Their presence must’ve been restricted to their own lands—or outright hunted everywhere else.

"Stay close behind me," I said, glancing at Alicia. "I’ll try to ask around without drawing attention."

She gave a brief nod, pulling her hood once again lower as we stepped out from the alley and reentered the bustling heart of the town.

The square was alive with activity—merchants yelling out deals, children weaving through the crowd, guards casually patrolling the edges. I approached the nearest vendor, an older man standing behind a cart stacked high with slightly bruised vegetables.

"Welcome, lad!" He said brightly. "Carrots? Beans? Fresh potatoes, straight from the—"

"Not interested," I cut in. "I’m looking for someone. Princess Viessa Teraquin. Is she nearby or still in the capital?"

The man’s cheerful expression twisted into a laugh. "The Princess?! Hah! Kid, if you want to see a Princess, buy a storybook. Might even get a glimpse of one on the cover!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Do I look like someone who’d ask that just for fun?" I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in, letting him get a good look at my face—and my seriousness.

His laughter died instantly. His eyes widened. "Y-You’re a noble?"

"Maybe," I said. "What matters is that I need to find her. Now."

He swallowed hard. "I... I don’t know exactly where she is. But she’s not in the castle, that much I’m sure of. Princess Viessa and the other Heroes are usually out at the frontlines, fighting the Witch’s forces."

I guess so.

"But—" the man added quickly, "Prince Ernest Olphean is here! He arrived just recently. If anyone knows where the Princess is, it’s him."

I let go of his shirt and stepped back. "Thanks," I said, offering a curt smile before turning away.

Ernest Olphean.

The name clicked immediately.

So that guy was indeed one of the five legendary Heroes from the Blood Moon War.

As Alicia and I walked away from the stall, she asked softly, "What now?"

"I don’t have much of a choice," I muttered. "I have to talk to the Prince. He was close to the other Heroes—if anyone can point me toward Viessa, it’s him."

Alicia nodded slowly but hesitated. "I can’t go with you. Not where there’s a crowd, and definitely not into a temple."

"Yeah." I glanced ahead.

The procession had made its way toward the tall marble steps of a grand building—its white pillars wrapped in flowering vines, golden statues standing guard at the entrance. The Temple of Freyja. Fitting, considering how the prince had basked in the public’s admiration.

"I’ll handle the talking," I said, already shifting my direction toward the temple. "You stay close, but keep out of sight. Don’t draw attention."

Alicia nodded.

We moved carefully through the thick crowd, slipping between people as politely—and sometimes not so politely—as possible.

"Hey! Stop pushing!"

"Shut up," I muttered, planting my palm on the guy’s face and shoving him aside. It cleared a bit more space for Alicia, which was the only thing that mattered. From up close it was easy to tell she was a vampire so I took the attention to myself.

"Ugh!" The guy grunted, stumbling back.

"Can you move the fuck away?" I snapped.

A few people turned their heads, blinking in disbelief as if unsure they’d heard me right. Maybe they were just too stunned to react properly, but they shuffled aside, parting just enough to let us pass through.

Eventually, we reached the temple guarded by a line of stoic Olphean soldiers in polished armor. I paused just before the entrance and looked at Alicia. She caught my glance and gave a small nod, deciding to stay behind.

Without a word, I stepped away from the crowd and started walking toward the temple while deftly jumped over the guards ignoring them.

"Hey! Stop right there!" A guard shouted as I landed behind them.

"I want to speak with Ernest Olphean," I said.

"It’s Prince Ernest Olphean to you!"

"Get back immediately!"

"I just want to talk to your Prince. That’s all," I repeated, lifting my hands to show I wasn’t armed, wasn’t a threat. "Just let me see him."

"I said step back!"

This was getting ridiculous. I wasn’t here to start a fight. All I wanted was to talk, see Viessa, and return to the present. That was it. I needed to get back to Celeste, Alvara, and the others before things spiraled further out of control. There was still one Event in Sancta Vedelia—and Lazarus Raven was involved. That alone was reason enough to be worried.

"Prince Ernest Olphean!" I called out, trying to peer past the guards.

Inside, Ernest stood before a towering statue of Freyja, his head bowed as if in prayer. I squinted at the sculpture and grimaced.

Damn... they really did Freyja dirty with that one. She looked so much better in her reincarnated form—hell, probably even more divine in her true body.

My outburst seemed to finally reach Ernest. He turned from the statue, his expression curious and slightly irritated. But then, upon laying eyes on me, his brow furrowed—and after a moment’s hesitation, he stepped out of the temple.

A small smile played at his lips.

"Do you need something, boy? How may I help you?" He asked with the cool demeanor of someone fully aware of his power and status.

"Yes," I said without wasting time. "I want to see Viessa Teraquin. Can you take me to her?"

The surrounding knights and crowd went quiet, their mouths slack with disbelief. I might as well have asked for the moon.

Ernest didn’t reply immediately. Instead, looked at me amused. Then, he chuckled softly.

"I’m sorry, boy—but you don’t just get to see Viessa that easily."

"Wait—’boy’? You can’t be more than twenty-three yourself," I shot back with a raised brow.

He clearly wasn’t taking me seriously. Fine. If words wouldn’t work, maybe I’d have to prove my sincerity some other way.

"You! How dare you speak to His Highness like that, you peasant!" One of the knights roared, stepping forward with a hand on his sword.

Damn this.

I didn’t want to pull this card, but it looked like I didn’t have a choice.

"I’m a member of the Olphean House," I said coldly, fixing Ernest with a sharp glare. My hand slipped beneath my hoodie, fingers brushing against the necklace I almost forgot I was even wearing.

It bore the emblem of the Olphean House—something Alea had given me. Alongside it was the black coin. Things I’d considered tossing away after the Utopian War and how my relation with them had broken.

Guess I was lucky I didn’t.

"What?" One of the knights gasped.

Eyes widened. Mouths hung open. Even Ernest stiffened, his posture snapping into something more alert—more serious.

I pulled the emblem free and tossed it to him.

He caught it without and turned it over in his hand, examining it with a growing frown. It didn’t take long. The seal was clearly authentic.

His gaze slowly lifted from the emblem back to me, and this time it was filled with something different. Wariness... curiosity... maybe even recognition.

"Who... are you?" He asked at last.

"Edward Olphean," I answered.

"I’m the heir to the Olphean House," Ernest said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "I know every single member of my family, including those from the branch bloodlines. I’ve never seen you. Never heard of you."

He was clearly suspicious.

I responded by raising my left hand. As I did, a soft amber glow pulsed on the back of my left hand—the sign of the Olphean Bloodline. An emblem that couldn’t be forged. Not with any spell or illusion.

"Yet I’m real," I said calmly.

Ernest’s eyes narrowed further, but I could tell—he already knew. From the moment he laid eyes on me, something must have felt familiar. The emblem just erased whatever lingering doubt he had left.

His lips tightened. Then, without a word, he signaled his men.

The guards sheathed their swords in a hurry, awkward and clearly uncomfortable. The ones who had shouted earlier suddenly found the horizon very interesting. None of them could meet my gaze now.

"Who are your parents?" Ernest asked next, and there it was—the inevitable question.

Of course he’d ask. That was how nobles navigated their web of legitimacy—bloodlines, names, branches of branches.

The problem?

I had no idea.

I didn’t know a damn thing about the Olphean family tree in this era, or even who was alive during this era. But I couldn’t afford to let that show.

"I don’t know," I replied. "I was sent to Edenis Raphiel at birth. I’ve only just returned to the land of my origin... when I heard it was in need of help."

A faint smirk appeared at the corner of Ernest’s mouth.

"The war began nine years ago."

I met his gaze, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Nine years ago, I was a kid."

He held my stare for a beat. Then gave a quiet chuckle and nodded, conceding the point.

"Alright," he said. "Let’s say I believe you really are from Edenis Raphiel. If you’ve returned to help us, then why do you want to meet with Viessa Teraquin?"

And there it was again—another good question.

A sharp one.

Now what kind of believable lie could I spin?

My mind raced, trying to string together some half-truths or at least something plausible—

"A—A VAMPIRE!!"

The sudden scream from the crowd interrupted my thoughts. Ernest snapped his head toward the sound, and I instinctively turned as well.

The sea of people parted again, revealing Alicia—her hood lowered, her blond hair spilling out. She looked at me in panic.

Ah, fuck this.