Vampire’s Special Blend (3)

Be his wife?

This might be the most speechless situation you’d ever been in.

You were silent for a long time, and finally, you just flicked your tail and swam towards the surface, physically distancing yourself from this seemingly very cunning fish, all while complaining in your head.

‘Merman bully, sea ruffian, eels should be teppanyaki…’ (TL Note : Teppanyaki is a Japanese cooking style that involves grilling food on an iron griddle, often built into a table where diners sit around and watch the chef prepare their meal. )

Sensing your speechlessness from your actions, Herman quickly caught up to you, trying to continue the conversation.

“Why are you ignoring me?
Do you like that vampire?”

“So you live in his gloomy old castle?”

Starting rumors now, are we!

You made a sharp turn and stopped, baring your teeth at Herman, your nails growing long.

“You shut up!”
“I’m not in heat!”
“And I don’t like vampires.”

Herman was a master of pushing his luck.
After you stopped, he even slowly brought his face closer to yours, his vibrant features magnifying before your eyes.
But you only found him annoying, really wanting to scratch his face to shreds.

“You don’t like him, so can you like me?”
“My nest is also very big, and I’m very good at hunting,” he said, seizing the opportunity.

You mimicked Herman’s initial arm-crossing posture, scanning him from top to bottom with a critical, disdainful look.

“Just you?”
“Stop following me.”
You turned and continued to swim away.

But Herman didn’t mind your display of disgust.
He perfectly fit your complaints.

He pestered you like a ruffian, completely losing his earlier untamed demeanor, becoming a wild dog chasing you, demanding you pet him a few times.

He swam up faster than you, his hand pressing on your shoulder, one hand on the side of your face, his eel tail firmly wrapped around your jiaoren tail.
His eel tail was longer and more flexible than yours, and you were suddenly restrained.

Then you saw Herman quickly lean into your face and lick the old wound on the tip of your nose with his tongue.

You felt like a piece of meat being licked over and over.

“What are you doing…”

It was your turn to ask.

Are they sick?
All of them are sick!

You thought of Adonis again.
What kind of dog-like habits were these…

You didn’t even wait for Herman’s answer.
You mercilessly scratched his tail with your sharp nails, digging them into the flesh and then sliding down to create a long wound.
This was not the tentative force of when you bit his tail.

A red mist of water spread.

“Ouch!”

Unlike Adonis’s uncomplaining endurance, Herman was clearly the more vocal one.

Herman cried out mournfully, finally realizing that you really could peel his skin off, and really wanted to.
He let go of his eel tail in pain.

You pulled away, flicked your tail forcefully, hitting him with it, and without a second glance, you swam out of the sea.

Herman didn’t care about the wound either, following you by your side, still answering your previous question.

“You say you don’t like vampires, then whose scent is that on you?”

You almost laughed with anger, and retorted.

“How are you so sure this is a vampire’s scent?
What if it’s Squidward’s?”

“Who’s Squidward?”
Herman asked, continuing his pursuit.
He maintained a distance slightly ahead of you, as if to make it difficult for you to shake him off.

The buildings on the cliff were already visible in the distance.
You calmed down, not wanting to get entangled with this ruffian fish any longer.
An idea came to mind.

You stopped and smiled at Herman.

“To be a dog, one should be very obedient.”

Herman seemed to think you had changed your mind and there was more to talk about, so he obediently stopped to listen.

“A dog, is that a land animal?”

You didn’t answer him again.
You just opened your mouth and let out a piercing sound wave, trying to control your volume so as not to affect a wider area.

A small area of fish around you turned belly-up, stunned by the attack.

Herman showed a brief look of surprise, then closed his eyes and fell backward, his whole body splashing into the sea and continuing to sink.

You cleared your throat and apologetically patted the belly-up fish around you.

After being awake for so long, you had almost forgotten your weapon.

As for the big eel, let him go play in the mud.

Returning to the window-like door, you propped yourself up on the stone platform with both hands and flung yourself back into the bathtub.

Surprisingly, the butler was still waiting there for you.

“You really don’t have to wait for me for so long.”

You weren’t just being polite.
The bathtub was quite low.
You could totally stick your tail out and paddle yourself along.

“It is my honor.
The Prince is waiting for you in the study.”

Lorken sat behind his desk, exuding a noble air, a glass of red wine by his hand.

After your bathtub was pushed to the side of the desk, the butler withdrew.

Your feelings were strange.
You hadn’t felt it in the sea, but once you were pushed along like this, completely exposed to the air, you felt an inexplicable longing for legs.
Was this thought greedy?

Following that thought, you asked Lorken how long it would take to receive a reply from the witch.

Lorken answered you, “Very soon.”

You curiously asked about the witch.

The witch’s name was Narcissa, the only powerful woman who had achieved the revival of dark magic.
It was said that among all living wizards, only she could do it.

And this witch was currently staying in a town near this sea, collecting the herbs she needed.

So, ‘very soon’ could also mean tomorrow morning.
The little bat Lorken had released was more like a telepathic force, much faster than normal flight.

Speaking of names, Lorken said something and then handed you a piece of paper with writing on it.

“Munashe?”
you repeated, looking at the name Lorken had spoken.

“Since you can’t remember your name, can I call you this for now?”
Lorken closed the book he was halfway through, placed it aside, and raised his head to watch your actions silently, waiting for your answer.

“Why this name?”
A name could have no meaning, or it could be given meaning.

“In any language, the pronunciation of this name is the same.”
This meant that in your former language and the language you were currently learning, it had the same pronunciation.

You sat up in the bathtub, leaning over his desk, and took his black quill pen to doodle on the paper, learning to write the name.
The exquisite pen tip wrote smoothly, and the black feather at the end had a hint of green, or perhaps it was a dark green feather.

Anyway, if you were to give yourself another name, you couldn’t come up with one.

“Munashe, Munashe?” you tried saying it, not disliking it.

“Sure, it’s quite catchy.”

You placed the quill back on the desk and reached for Lorken’s wine glass.

You didn’t mean to drink it, you were just curious about the taste.
You could smell that the liquid in the glass was actually blood.

A slightly rich, sweet, and metallic scent lingered at the tip of your nose.

Lorken’s gaze fell on the tip of your nose above the rim of the glass, then he reached out and took the glass back from your hand.

Your gaze followed the trajectory of his pale hand.
You watched him put down the wine glass and heard him ask.

“Is it okay to drink mine?”

His fingertips landed on his newly changed, pristine white collar.
He tore open the already loose bow tie, revealing his delicate neck and collarbone.

His originally cold, red eyes appeared deep and affectionate under the candlelight.

Oh, Lorken seemed to have misunderstood your meaning.