《The Mad Medic》 1 | Prologue The elite of the elite, the cream of the crop from the Kingdom of Euglaria, were all gathered in the same room. Well, at least they were, before they were brutally slaughtered. The strongest amongst them, Swordmaster Joseph, barely supported himself with his sword, kneeling on one knee. ¡°Ha¡­ Ha¡­ Haaa.¡± Joseph panted as he took various potions, wiping the blue liquid off his lips. He glared at the figure standing at the top of the marble staircase, the lightning strike illuminated her figure. The throne room was strewn with bodies, their blood dyeing the white carpet a deep crimson. The intricately carved stone pillars were badly damaged, barely supporting the weight of the ceiling, sending dust and debris raining down on his battered form. ¡°Why?! Why did you do this?¡± he shouted. ¡°We-¡± Thunder rumbled once again, cutting him off mid-sentence. A woman wearing a black, one-piece dress stepped down from beside the throne, her heels clacking down the staircase. Tart, a beautiful blonde half-elf, the ruler of the Eastern Kingdom. Yup, that¡¯s the actual name. It''s basically just a collection of heteromorphic rejects around the continent. Drows, tieflings, dokkaebi, kobolds, literal skeletons and ghosts, you get the idea. She leaned into his face, her pale, delicate fingers lifting up his chin. ¡°You don¡¯t think you could get away scot-free trespassing, did you?¡± Oh yeah, and another thing¡ªbrazen adventurers from the Kingdom of Euglaria constantly break into our home, demanding a challenge. Of course, it never ends well. You wouldn¡¯t be able to unite and protect races from all across the continent if you were weak. The room rumbled as she summoned her weapon, a magnificent pitch-black greatsword. She swung it effortlessly, despite her slender body. She pointed her blade at him¡ªthe last one standing. The other ¡°heroes¡± had already been slain, leaving him alone. ¡°Do you have any idea how expensive it is to replace the windows?!¡± she shouted, pointing at the shattered glass and broken doors. ¡°You know that you could just open doors like a normal person but noooo, you got to kick down every door and window you see! They aren¡¯t cheap, you know?!¡± Creak. ¡°Are you done yet? Ah, it seemed like I was too early. Should I leave?¡± I asked, pointing towards the massive double doors. His cheek twitched. ¡°Who are you? What are you doing here?¡± Oops. Well, whatever. I¡¯m just here as backup anyways. Once in a while, some influential person turns up to try and test their luck, and Tart wanted to make sure that it won¡¯t be an international issue. ¡°Come on! I was just about to give my monologue, and please stop eating while I¡¯m performing, make an effort to not get blood all over your face, it''s unbecoming of you.¡± ¡°Sorry!¡± I mumbled, dabbing at my mouth with a handkerchief. ¡°Just pretend I¡¯m not here, you got this!!¡± Her greatsword sliced across his stomach, bisecting him horizontally. His scream was cut short as his blood sprayed into the air, his upper half dropping to the floor with a thud. Trails of crimson blood began slithering towards my palm from the corpses, condensing into glossy, red orbs. ¡°This should hold me over for a few weeks at least.¡± She grimaced a little when I swallowed one of those orbs. ¡°You know the drill. Send one back, turn the rest into housekeepers.¡± ¡°Alright. Help me move the bodies, you should be more careful with them next time¡­¡± Tart sheepishly glanced at the body slowly sliding down one of the intricately carved pillars. ¡°I hope the stains will come out of the carpet easily¡­¡± ¡°Also, please stop decapitating or bisecting them. You know how expensive resurrection magic is. We¡¯ve also received several complaints this night alone due to the thunderbolts you use for dramatic effect.¡± ¡°Aw, you¡¯re no fun,¡± she pouted, tossing me a mana recovery potion. ¡°Somebody come clean this mess up!¡± she shouted over her shoulder. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Several of them were still in quite good condition, so they were quickly revived and turned into ghouls. Well, they should¡¯ve thought about the consequences before breaking and entering. ¡°Good morning! You know how if you can¡¯t pay for a meal, you wash dishes? This is sort of like the same thing, except you get to work at the castle.¡± ¡°What hu- you aren¡¯t the boss of me!¡± ¡°It¡¯s. An. Order. Go to the castle, clean up your mess, you brats.¡± ¡°¡­?¡± Their legs began moving on their own, despite themselves. ¡°The maid uniforms are in a closet down the hall to the right, you can¡¯t miss it.¡± It¡¯s already terribly hard to find full-time housekeepers. They keep holding these reckless fights indoors, and at this point, every employee in a hundred meter radius of us are qualified for danger pay. Well, at least they¡¯ll make themselves useful. I sighed, turning my attention to the last body¡ªJoseph. The blood had already begun pooling around his body, dyeing his clothes into a sickly red color. Swordmaster my ass, it wasn¡¯t even close. Tart got bored at some point and turned these near biweekly fights into acting lessons. I picked up the staff of a fallen mage nearby, channeling my mana. I shielded my eyes, as the room was momentarily engulfed in a brilliant flash of light. His fingers twitched as the blood began slithering back into his body, his various wounds knitting together like time was reversing. Shortly after, he jolted awake, as if he just awoke from a bad nightmare. His hands trembled as they moved over his body. ¡°Wh- where am I?! I¡¯m¡­ Alive¡­?¡± ¡°Good morning sunshine! Please leave through the door on the left. Loiterers and trespassers aren¡¯t welcomed here.¡± Joseph scanned the room in disbelief. ¡°Bu- but where are my companions? What have you done with them??¡± I stared at him with a deadpan expression. ¡°They found new employment opportunities in the afterlife. Get going, you are a long way from home.¡± ¡°You¡­¡± His fingers subconsciously twitched at his waist. ¡°I need answers¡­ Where are they, and who are you?! I¡¯ll beat the answers out of you if I mu-¡± ¡®Who does he think he is? Making demands as if it¡¯s his own house¡­¡¯ ¡°Is¡­ That a threat?¡± Her greatsword embedded itself deeply into the wall, causing a crack to snake up towards the ceiling. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the ceiling collapsed due to the carnage of the battle. Well, it was less a battle and more a massacre. Just a couple more inches and he would¡¯ve lost his head. ¡°There won¡¯t be a next time,¡± Tart said icily. ¡°Now scram.¡± ¡°Nailed it!¡± I mouthed with a thumbs up. ¡°Please hold your fights outdoors next time!¡± I guess the cool factor sort of balanced out the destruction? If this is where my money is going towards, I¡¯ll totally commit magical tax evasion too. Tart facepalmed in exasperation as he scrambled to his feet, leaping through and destroying yet another window. We must¡¯ve been keeping all the local glaziers in business. ¡°Hope?¡± she called out, pulling the blade out of the wall with a grunt. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you about something.¡± ¡°Yeah yeah I remembered to wash out the bloodstains,¡± I said, rolling my eyes. ¡°And closed the curtains, yeah yeah yeah¡­.¡± ¡°I meant that your birthday is coming up soon, are you sure you don¡¯t want anything?¡± Tart sighed deeply. ¡°Normally, there is a whole celebration, a coming of age festival. It¡¯s supposed to be a big deal, but to you it¡¯s just another day.¡± I shrugged, turning yet another page. ¡°I¡¯m fine with anything, I¡¯m content just spending my time with you, is all.¡± Honestly, it¡¯s not a big deal to me. I know some people who had massive celebrations for their sweet sixteen, but I¡¯m not really into that stuff (read : hikikomori). ¡°Awww, you¡¯re so cheeky! It¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯m worried about you, stuck in the castle all day. Kids your age should be attending school, making friends, going out, exploring the world! Remember the academy I told you about? I think-¡± ¡°Yeah I¡¯m going to have to stop you right there. It¡¯s a no. No thanks.¡± ¡°You know you don¡¯t have a say in this, it''s a requirement for all nobility to attend the academy as soon as they become adults.¡± Her voice trailed off, staring off into the distance. ¡°You know, I won¡¯t be around forever,¡± Tart said, her voice growing serious. ¡°I want you to see the world beyond these walls.¡± ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll attend,¡± I groaned. ¡°But just for you.¡± Tart pulled me into a tight embrace. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered. I took a deep breath, burying my face into her chest. She smelled of a mix of blood, sweat, and something earthy that I couldn¡¯t quite place my finger on. ¡°Sebastian!¡± she called out, clapping her hands. ¡°If anybody shows up to challenge me, tell them that it could wait until tomorrow! If they try anything, send them back in a shoe box.¡± ¡°As you wish, your majesty,¡± he said with a polite bow. ¡°When should I expect your return? I shall have breakfast prepared at your convenience.¡± Sebastian was my mentor. He taught me magic, while Tart taught me swordsmanship. Aside from that, he was just a great butler in general¡ªsmartly dressed in a suit with graying, slicked back hair and a bushy mustache. He was always nearby, supposedly having served this house for hundreds of years. ¡°Forget about breakfast, I¡¯ve lost my appetite,¡± she said, taking my hand. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get out of here. I won¡¯t get any sleep anyways with all the noise.¡± Tart tapped her chin thoughtfully and pursed her lips. ¡°I suppose I should put out a notice banning challenges after dark and limiting them to once or twice a month¡­¡± The Silverus Academy is a prestigious academy located at the center of the continent, attracting the children of nobility from all over the continent. I¡¯ve heard many stories about their alumni going on to be successful rulers or warriors in their own respective territories, which earned them critical acclaim. Well, let¡¯s just get this over with¡­ The Headmaster sat across from us, still wearing his nightcap and striped blue and white pajamas, like he¡¯s straight out of a hallmark movie. He appeared to be visibly agitated and bleary-eyed. ¡°I thought I asked you to change out of your clothes,¡± Tart hissed. ¡°You¡¯re so irresponsible, you will catch a cold!¡± ¡°Whatever¡­.¡± At this point, the white, loose-fitting pajamas are my signature. I can¡¯t complain, really. I totally empathize with the headmaster. ¡°Your majesty, what brings you here this early in the morning?¡± he asked, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Could it be that another one of the students had so foolishly challenged you late into the night? If so, I deeply apologize for the disturbance.¡± She shook her head and nudged me. ¡°I would like my daughter, Hope Sinclair, to be enrolled into your academy. She is of nobility, so it shouldn¡¯t be much of an issue, no?¡± Headmaster Grey paused for a moment before turning sift through a small pile of documents. ¡°Of course. A couple of weeks had passed since the start of the semester, but I think I could make some arrangements. However, both guardian and child must sign this release form.¡± We turned to each other with a look of confusion. He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s just as a precaution. Many noble families expect preferential treatment. Getting injured during training is a part of life. We¡¯re just making sure that we won¡¯t receive any lawsuits, that¡¯s all. Take your time.¡± Tart produced a pair of reading glasses out of thin air, squinting at the contract before signing. ¡°Alright, I consent.¡± I hastily scribbled my name on the contract, and the contract lit up with a faint, blue glow. ¡°Congratulations, welcome to the Silverus Academy,¡± he yawned. ¡°Let me show you to the girl¡¯s dormitory.¡± I reflexively pulled my hand back with a yelp as small burn marks sizzled on my fingers. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°My apologies, my rings are silver. I haven''t met a vampire in quite a while, and we¡¯ll try our best to accommodate you.¡± I apologized with a slight bow. ¡®I¡¯m the peanut allergy kid, aren¡¯t I?¡¯ 2 | When Day Breaks Snow blanketed the ground in thick drifts, a reminder of the passing blizzard. Boots crunched heavily in the snow, as my breath drifted in the air in soft, curling wisps. I stopped abruptly, raising my hands in submission. ¡°Ah, you got me.¡± My pursuer touched the edge of the cold steel to my neck. ¡°Search her.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Where is it?¡± ¡°Where is it?!!¡± I smirked, clutching my side. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to find anything.¡± Before he could react, I popped a small orb in my mouth with a smile. An acrid burn spreaded down my throat as I swallowed. I grimaced. ¡°Mental note to coat the pills better next time¡­¡± ¡°Die, traitor.¡± His look of triumph was quickly replaced with that of fear and confusion. The wound bubbled and warped violently, his blade sizzling and dropping to the ground with a soft whump. ¡°Take a look around you.¡± The snowy field was strewn with bodies, each with a small wound at their temple. A thin trail of blood trickled down their face, still frozen in shock. He touched the warm liquid slithering down his face, and promptly collapsed. I groaned, clutching my stomach. It did not sit well. Reluctantly, I sunk my fangs into the radial artery of my victim. Though it was a bit awkward, It offers much better line of sight compared to feeding from the neck. Dabbing at my lips with a handkerchief, I pulled out a small, dull dagger from a pouch at my hip. I grinned. Looks like the intel was reliable. I paid quite the hefty sum, after all. An unnatural warmth pulsed through the blade. I could feel something¡ªno, someone, sleeping inside. Yes, it¡¯s unmistakable. It¡¯s my mother¡¯s mana. A fragment of her soul was housed inside this dagger. I gazed at the blade longingly, as it gleamed from the first light of dawn. I was blinded from the glare of the light reflecting off the snow. Though it appeared ordinary at first glance, it is still a relic from the Great War. Well, it was less a war and more a massacre. Relics from that era were forged with unusual materials causing them to be highly sought after for their high mana-conductivity and strange abilities. Thus, they were heavily guarded by their respective kingdoms. Do you know the legend of The Mad Demon? The Chaotic Era was a great period of turmoil, where he travelled across the land, slaying great masters and powerful rulers, both heroes and villains alike. The world was left in disarray, consumed by anarchy. It was a time where might made right, where new kingdoms rose and fall in a blink of an eye. The demonic blade he possessed severed both flesh and spirit, splitting not only bodies but souls themselves. Its resting place is called the Grave of Swords, filled with the blades of fallen warriors. The demonic blade sat at the center, Its power was so vile and potent that the land remains barren till this day, spawning monsters twisted by the remnants of its curse. It was no legend. How did I survive, you may ask? Simply put, I was lucky. I¡¯ve never forgotten the day I¡¯ve gotten cut by his blade. It was like nothing I¡¯ve felt before, an out of body experience, followed by immeasurable pain. That was the day I knew my ¡°training¡± had paid off. A human can only hold so much power, and can only endure so much. That¡¯s right. One day, he just disappeared. Rumors had it that he died of old age, or was consumed by the blade. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but with his disappearance, it ushered in a new era of peace. Soon, the burials were complete. Each grave was marked with their owner¡¯s sword, and doused with a few drops of holy water. I whispered a silent prayer as I worked. It was standard procedure to carry items such as holy water, to prevent the corpses from rising as undead. Typically, it was made with water, salt, and whatever herbs and other random bullshit you could find, no priest required. Well, I suppose it¡¯s the belief that matters in the end. I then promptly resumed my journey. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Good morning.¡± Without looking up, he set a plate of food on the table with a clack. I smiled. ¡°Thanks for the food. Your cooking is the best.¡± It was in fact, not the best. His food is greasy and bland, though he claimed to have used the best parts of whatever animal he butchered that day. His shop was always open, perfect for someone like me who needed a quick fix after a successful heist. ¡°Nobody eats my black puddings as deliciously as you do. Save the flattery,¡± he said with a snort. ¡°So, what have you been up to again?¡± ¡°...Training.¡± ¡°You need to eat more. You look both skinny and obese at the same time.¡± Ignoring his remarks, I picked at the food. Surely, the stink lines clearly emanating from the food couldn¡¯t be natural. I mean, you would expect a butcher to be a relatively decent cook, but he was absolutely terrible at cooking. A strong irony smell permeated my nostrils as I took a bite. Perhaps it was because I am a vampire, but the taste wasn¡¯t half bad. He scratched at his mustache. ¡°No appetite? C¡¯mon, you can tell me anything. I¡¯m the most trustworthy award-winning chef out there,¡± he said with a grin. I wrinkled my nose. I can¡¯t say the large black flies swarming around the rancid meat hanging from the meat hooks are making me hungry. No wonder he never had any customers. The best compliment you could give his food was just ¡°edible.¡± I dropped the spork. ¡°Ignoring your poor taste in decor, your food tastes more radioactive than usual.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, beaming. ¡°It¡¯s not a compliment.¡± I pushed the plate of food across the wooden table. ¡°I''m going to be leaving town.¡± He sighed. ¡°Again? For how long? You know that you are my best customer, right?¡± ¡°And your only customer.¡± I pressed a few coins into his hand. ¡°Keep the change,¡± I said, leaving the butcher shop. ¡°And put some pants on.¡± ¡°If only you would pay me enough¡­ But uh, Is it just me or is the sky extra red today?¡± ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry about that, probably just a gender reveal party.¡± ¡°Oh okay.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I think we should go.¡± ¡°No shit Sherlock.¡± Flames crackled hungrily, spreading from tree to tree. Thick, black smoke billowed into the sky, blotting out the morning sun. Bandit attacks were commonplace in frontier villages like this, which was why people rarely carried much, save for their weapons. I glanced behind me, only to see the village butcher already making a break for it. I heard that he purchased a solid insurance plan. Good on him. The nearby garrison should be here soon. ¡­ Any second now. ¡­ Annnnny second now. ¡­ What¡¯s taking them so long? ¡­ Oh. Ohhhh. I killed them, didn¡¯t I? Alright screw it, I¡¯ll handle it myself. I tapped one of the bandits on the shoulder. ¡°Excuse me, where is the direction to the nearest city?¡± ¡°Ah, it¡¯s that wa- hey wait a minute¡­¡± Cutting off the healing magic for a moment, flames erupted from my hand, setting the bandit writhing in pain on the floor. ¡°Thank you.¡± I¡¯ve long gotten used to the feeling of fire licking at my wounds. At first, I would accidentally step into the sun. When I first awoke, I was frying on the ground like an egg in Arizona heat. Over the course of my life, I¡¯ve constantly stepped into the sun, each time for just a little longer. Now I could confidently say that I got into a staring contest with the sun and won. After I repeated this process several more times, the bandits seemed to have wisened up and left. I do kill random criminals whenever I come across them, but it¡¯s strange¡ªaside from the fire, there was no other damage. Heck, there weren¡¯t even any civilian corpses. I¡¯m starting to think there weren¡¯t any bandits to begin with. ¡°Yikes,¡± I said, sucking a breath through my teeth. Rifling through their belongings, I¡¯ve found that they all carried the same things. Namely, a scrying mirror, contracts, several leaflets, and a few gold coins. ¡°While severing your work and life is scary, getting severed from your parent¡¯s insurance can be even more frightening¡ªunless you have Stake Farm, that is. Get in touch with your local agent to find out how you can get out of your parent¡¯s insurance and into your own.¡± My brow twitched as I sliced up the leaflets into tiny ribbons. These guys weren¡¯t bandits¡ªthey were insurance scammers. There was very little law enforcement in the harsh conditions of the frontier, and there was little risk as everyone cooperated to pull off the scam. There were no witnesses, no evidence. It was the perfect crime. Well, until I ruined it. The bodies are a bit¡­ Too toasted for resurrection. Rest in pieces¡­ Your money would be put to good use. The fire crackled, interrupting my train of thoughts. ¡°You¡­. Monster.¡± Startled by the voice, I turned sharply, my eyes locking onto a soot-covered figure. White cloak? Check. Grizzled face? Check. An unwavering look of determination? Triple check. ¡°Is that you, Jolly Joe? I thought you died long ago.¡± ¡°Who are you again? Nevertheless, the name¡¯s Joseph! The magnificent, the unyielding, the undefeated-¡± ¡®Was he always this annoying?¡¯ He coughed as if he read my thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s rare to meet a fellow Chaotic Era survivor. I wish we had met under more¡­ Amicable circumstances.¡± He drew a gleaming, silver-white saber from his side, the sharp sound of metal scraping filling the air. ¡°For the crime of arson, murder, and destruction of property, I hereby sentence you to death,¡± he shouted. ¡°You will answer for your crimes, demon.¡± ¡°...Why is boss music playing?¡± I glanced around, trying to figure out the source of this strange sorcery. Did this idiot really hire a band for dramatic effect? It looked like his cloak was fluttering in the non existent wind, and he rubbed soot on his face, spreading it into a stupid grin. ¡°Come on, you may start clapping now.¡± I decided to humor him, as I was extremely bored and this was the most interesting thing that had happened to me all day. J Sizzle stood tall, utterly unphased. ¡°Behind every hero, there is a catchy theme song,¡± he said proudly. ¡°You like it? I wrote it myself. The setting and mood is very important for every battle. A good deed unrecorded does not exist, after all.¡± That poor bard! I hope that the pay was worth it to put up with this guy. I would pay to not hear him rambling. This was less a fight and more a circus performance. That bard is the real hero here. God bless his soul. I deadpanned. ¡°Stop mogging and get on with it.¡± He finally completed his lengthy exposition right before I got a brain aneurysm, and got into a battle ready stance. ¡°Prepare for my ultimate attack!¡± he said, throwing off his cloak. I waited patiently while he tore off several articles of clothing while striking flashy poses. Joe Joe charged towards me, raising his sword high over his head with a shout. ¡°Six fold slash of light!!!¡± Kicking him in the groin, he crumpled into a heap on the floor, clutching his family jewels in pain. I would feel bad for him, but that¡¯s just natural selection at this point. Well, that was anticlimactic. I was expecting a bit more after all the centuries that passed, but it seemed like I got my hopes up. ¡°Until next time, toodaloo!¡± ¡°What does that even mean!¡± he cried out. ¡°Not my wallet! I will get my revenge!!¡± How clich¨¦. I deserve to at least be compensated for my time.