I was silent, staring at the destruction I had wrought during the battle.
"How could an ordinary human possibly stand against 'this'?"
The only reason I was able to defeat him was thanks to "Magical Berserk".
This magic was something I had created personally. Though calling it magic was difficult. I simply released an enormous amount of magical energy, completely enveloping myself in it. This flow was so dense that it could block other magic, but it had its downsides. I expended a colossal amount of my own blood. While in normal mode I could last three days, after using "Magical Berserk" that amount was reduced to just one day. The only exception was if I drank a mage's blood — then I would only lose one day.
Tilting my head and looking at the large patch of black blood, I fell into thought. After a while, I used blood magic to collect this black blood.
Then I took a small glass vial from my magical storage and began filling it with the blood.
"Not bad, three vials. I've really perfected this trick. I don't even need cells to drain blood from living people anymore."
After that, I fell silent. After some thought, I headed back to the destroyed tribe.
And there I was again, facing a mountain of bodies.
"Why did I come here?" — this question began to circle in my head as soon as I returned.
"Why? I feel nothing looking at this mountain of mutilated corpses. Why did I come back? I don't understand." — I frowned and continued talking to myself. But there was no answer; I… I couldn't understand the reason. They were dead. Every single one, and I felt nothing.
No compassion.
No sorrow.
No anger.
"I… I really don't care about them," — I said grimly.
I had already turned to leave when I suddenly froze; a sudden thought pierced my mind, so unexpected and even absurd that I couldn't move.
"…" — I turned around, then began to sort through this mountain of corpses, laying them on the ground. After that, I took out my two-handed sword.
"I need to bury them. It would be the human thing to do."
And I began to dig; the sword that had spilled rivers of blood, with dried bloodstains visible from decades ago, was now covered in dirt. The weapon, the mere sight of which made the faint of heart feel terror, was now digging graves for the dead. Dead that it hadn't killed. Dead that it hadn't been able to protect.
And now I stood over a dozen graves, still feeling nothing, but the itch at the edge of my consciousness had disappeared.
"So I have become a monster after all, haven't I?" — I mused, looking at the graves. Then I shifted my gaze to my sword, which was covered in earth and bloodstains. I picked it up and sat on a small rock nearby, then began to clean it, washing away both the dirt and the dried blood.
«Even so, I will still live like a human», — for the first time in a long while, I decided to take care of my weapon, not for another battle, but to gather my thoughts.
«When was the last time I did this? How much time has passed since I enjoyed simple things? When did I last distract myself from thoughts of killing?» — these were the questions I asked myself. Talking to myself calmed me; it gave me a certain sense of peace. I could have simply had these conversations in my mind, but every such dialogue ended in discussing ways to kill others. That's why I preferred to speak out loud. From the outside, it probably looked rather frightening, but I had long stopped worrying about that. What difference did it make to me how others saw me? Especially when those «others» were constantly trying to kill me.
I sat like that for a couple of hours, not even noticing how the sun had risen. I only noticed it when my hand started to warm up. Frowning, I lifted my gaze to the sky and froze in amazement.
«When was the last time I saw the sun?» — I said in amazement, staring unblinkingly at the sun, which should have incinerated me.
«It… It's beautiful», — I said quietly, putting down my sword and standing up to my full height. Forty minutes later, I touched my face, a face that should have been deathly cold, but instead of cold, I felt warmth.
«A monster like me shouldn't be able to be under the sun's rays. That's the law of my world. But here I am, a monster basking in the sun's rays», — a lone tear appeared on my face. Taking off my glove, I wiped away my tear and looked at it.
«Haha, do I even have tears? Even when vampire hunters' bombs were burning me alive, I couldn't shed tears», — after these words, I froze, and my gaze became gloomy as I began to scrutinize my hand. After some thought, I made an incision with my other hand, from which black blood began to flow.
«How interesting, could it be that I can be under the sun because of this blood?» — without thinking twice, I pulled out a vial of red blood and drank it in one gulp. As soon as I put down the empty vial, I felt the skin on my hand and face begin to burn. I immediately ducked under the nearest tree, then took out a vial of black blood and drank it. After that, I took a step into the direct rays of the sun. After standing like that for a couple of dozen minutes, I burst out laughing.
«That's it! I've found a purpose! A reason to raise my sword again! To shed blood once more! I will hunt down these creatures! Hunt them down and drain them of every last drop of blood! And if they're like the creature I killed, I'll be doing the world a favour! Perfect!»
The vampire of yesterday, who had lost his purpose after surviving in his native world, had found it again. His desire was selfish, but his actions benefited the inhabitants of this world, regardless of their consent. The vampire didn't care.