The Progenitor.
The father of all Blood Demons and the First of the Beginning—
It was said that when he spread his wings, the sky itself would vanish from sight.
That was how powerful and majestic he was said to be.
But ever since the world began to descend into ruin, and a single silver star was left to hang in the sky—
The death of the Progenitor had already been set in motion.
Just as the silver star had wished.
Slowly withering away, The Progenitor became the target of the gathering Blood Demons.
The few remaining family members.
They stood before the progenitor and extended their arms to him.
[Father, take this.]
[We offer this for your sake.]
[Quench your thirst.]
They pleaded for him to drink their blood and survive.
The sight of their center and idol—The Progenitor—dying of thirst was too cruel to bear.
So all the Blood Demons held out their arms.
With desperate resolve, they tried to save their father no matter what.
But The Progenitor never opened his mouth.
Not once did his sharp fangs pierce the flesh of his kin.
[In the end, the thirst never disappears.]
It wasn't just a matter of thirst returning over time.
If he drank their blood, all it would do was pass his thirst onto them.
Someone cried out—
[Father! Then we shall bring to you others you can drink from immediately!]
To quench his thirst just once would take over a hundred transcendents.
That was how immense a being The Progenitor was, and how much energy he needed.
[That will not be necessary.]
Even this, The Progenitor refused.
Perhaps things would have been different in the days of abundance.
But now, standing on a barren land, he couldn't bring himself to contribute to others' extinction just to prolong his own life.
He didn't want to lessen the number of lives left in this world, just so he could extend his own.
[Now that I've come to this point… I see how arrogant I was to call myself a noble.]
[We Blood Demons are nothing more than parasites, living off the blood of others.]
No one could object. No one dared speak.
His words were absolute, and when one who had reached the end spoke, it was impossible to dismiss them emotionally.
[So if I may dream as I close my eyes—just one dream.]
As he looked upon his sons and daughters, filled with sorrow for their destined future—
[That our kind, the Blood Demons, may someday… stand on their own, without need of others.]
With that hope, The Progenitor revealed one of his deepest, darkest secrets.
The never-ending thirst he lived with all his life. The inescapable dependency his kind had on others.
Unlike humans or other transcendents, Blood Demons could only satisfy their needs through the blood of another—a convenient yet cruel truth.
The Progenitor slowly extended his arm.
[Drink.]
As he departed, he hoped he could at least quench their thirst just a little.
And with that, The Progenitor closed his eyes.
***
CRUNCH!
The moment the fangs pierced Jonathan's skin, the taste of blood that touched the tongue was rich enough to make the whole body burn with energy.
Unlike ordinary humans, this child carried half the blood of a Blood Demon.
One of The Progenitor's many efforts to save his kind: the solution called "halfblood."
[Drink.]
The sweetest drop in the world.
Which made it the most brutal sip ever taken.
The Blood Demon recoiled in shock, instinctively pulling away from Jonathan's arm.
It was an experience they never wanted to repeat.
They hated the fact that they had once found it sweet. That they sometimes still licked their lips remembering that taste.
The reason they hated It—because it simply wasn't beautiful.
And then—
A beautiful strike known as the "Grand Severance" cut through the Blood Demon's body.
"...!"
Struck at the very moment of self-loathing, the blade brought not just pain but a strangely satisfying clarity.
Only regret was not fully appreciating the beauty held in that silver slash.
Thud!
The Blood Demon's body collapsed like a marionette with cut strings, her back hitting the ground.
Through fading vision, she felt her defeat and approaching death.
Was it beautiful?
She weren't sure.
At the moment death arrived, what came to mind wasn't their her beautiful memory—
But the ugliest moment of her life.
The day she greedily sucked The Progenitor's blood.
And in trying to forget the ugliness of that day, perhaps that was why she had always pursued beauty until now.
Only at death's door did she realize this truth.
A shadow fell over her face.
The man blocking the light—was her younger brother.
"S-Sister…"
Tears streamed down Jonathan's face as he looked down at her, a sight that couldn't be called beautiful even as flattery.
Even in the face of death, having to see something un-beautiful was perhaps the most unbearable death for a Blood Demon.
But as she saw Jonathan's face, a gentle smile graced her lips.
"That nun… she once said this."
"…"
"That you acknowledged your instincts—and still wanted to overcome them."
A child born with half the blood of a Blood Demon.
In a way, that was the very path The Progenitor had long hoped for.
Yet Jonathan never even knew who his Blood Demon parent was.
[Why did we abandon the human halfbloods?]
—Yes, halfbloods have potential too, don't they? Like Helmut of Helik, for example.
[....]
—If he inherited the blood of the Progenitor, then surely…
[He's not a Blood Demon.]
[A being who doesn't thirst for blood is not a Blood Demon. What we desire is the ability to stand on our own, not to survive without blood.]
And so, they abandoned him.
To put it coldly, to the Progenitor, Jonathan was a failure.
But paradoxically—
Jonathan ended up walking the very path the Progenitor had hoped for.
He acknowledged his ugliness.
And while accepting it, he fought to overcome it.
So this time, the Progenitor's words came out through the Blood Demon's mouth with a slightly different meaning.
"You're not a Blood Demon."
"...!"
Which meant—his struggle wasn't something handed to him by the Progenitor.
It was a result he had achieved on his own.
"Why..."
As tears welled in his eyes and dripped onto the Blood Demon's cheek, she responded with a pained breath.
"That ugly face… get it out of here, little brother."
Jonathan's pupils trembled for a brief moment.
He couldn't understand why this Blood Demon, even now, called him her younger brother—and yet he also felt guilty.
But in this moment, he finally realized something he hadn't before.
She had always called him her useless little brother.
Jonathan wasn't particularly ugly, but by Blood Demon standards, he'd always been far below average.
[Keep those ugly girls out of my sight. I feel like killing them when I see them.]
She harbored extreme hatred toward those who didn't meet her standards of beauty.
And yet, she'd always been kind—only to Jonathan.
[Call me your sister.]
"Ah…"
Why had he only realized it so late?
No—perhaps he simply didn't want to realize it.
Jonathan had finally understood—but wanted to pretend he hadn't.
He wasn't a Blood Demon.
Which meant, all that remained—
Was the fact that he was her little brother.
"Sigh… betraying your sister and now crying like this."
The Blood Demon's body tilted slightly toward Jonathan. She leaned deeper into his arms and slowly closed her eyes.
"You really are… a useless little brother."
***
Several days had passed since the Blood Demon Banquet.
"…I really thought I was going to be executed."
Jonathan, who had joined the banquet, muttered to himself, saying he naturally assumed he would be sentenced to death as well.
After all, the other nobles who had attended had all received either death or similar punishments.
Jonathan's expression didn't look much different from usual.
Somewhat awkward. Somewhat naïve.
But because Isaac knew the grief that lay underneath, he silently patted Jonathan on the back.
"You're not that kind of person. I told them you were our mole. Thanks to you, we figured out the Blood Demon situation quickly."
"…Not that kind of person—was that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Be thankful your head is still attached."
At Isaac's words, Jonathan scratched his cheek. He figured it wasn't wrong.
What words could he offer as comfort?
Isaac had no memories of family either.
And the family he'd gained through marriage never really felt like family to him, so he had no idea how to offer comfort.
"Sir Isaac, even if she was a bad person to others… to me, she was still my sister."
"..."
"Yeah, that's how I feel. It was short, but we made some memories."
Jonathan paused for a moment, then spoke honestly.
"So… is it okay if I keep missing her? Even though she was… a bad person?"
Is it wrong to even think about her?
Do I need permission just to grieve?
Caught in that worry, Isaac gave him a firm pat on the back.
"That's for you to decide. Just like you always have."
A faint smile appeared on Jonathan's lips—like he had expected Isaac to say just that.
"As expected, Sir—"
"Isaaaaaac!!"
Just as he moved in for a hug—
The mansion doors burst open, and Sharen stormed in.
As if she didn't even see Jonathan standing nearby, she flailed her arms and made a scene.
"I heard! I totally heard!"
"Heard what."
"Servant bond! Since the Blood Demon died, you're her master now, right?!"
"…Yeah, that's right."
Around the time he killed the Blood Demon, Isaac had felt something like a thread wrapping inside himself.
At first, he thought it was just a flash of insight from slaying her, but when he sensed remnants of sorcery, he realized the servant bond had passed to him.
"Then Isaac!"
Sharen's eyes sparkled as she raised her arms high in excitement.
"Next time you meet my 'sister,' make her roll on the floor three times and bark like a dog!"
"…What?"