It seems that for reasons unknown to me, I've ultimately been reborn in another world as an infant... This world is either a medieval-era realm, or my parents in this lifetime are complete lunatics. Further observation is clearly needed. Beyond that, I appear to possess some night vision. My physical constitution has also been enhanced somewhat, and most importantly...
He attempted to channel a sliver of spiritual energy. Instantly, a faint, pallid flame appeared on the newborn's raised finger.
"My spiritual energy hasn't diminished—it's actually stronger than in that previous, specially engineered artificial shell. This world is rich in spiritual energy too, a high-energy realm where it doesn't need artificial synthesis to be utilized. In a way, this is a blessing in disguise. Well, no matter how bad it gets, it can't be worse than the world I left behind. At least I get to keep living."
Though many questions lingered in his mind, the Sergeant Major, who had only just regained consciousness for a brief moment, now felt drowsy once more. Most of a newborn's time is spent asleep. Even the former Master Chief of the United Nations Space Command was no exception—or rather, perhaps he should now be called Valed von Kastanien.
The next time he awoke, it was daytime. The woman who had lain beside Valed, presumably his birth mother, was gone. The weather was cold and overcast, casting the poorly lit castle in gloom. It even gave Valed the illusion that night still lingered.
Even so, he had no desire to sleep further—for the second problem of infancy now plagued him. He felt hungry. Without a second thought, he began to cry out, utterly shameless, just like a true infant.
The wails roused the maids nearby. They rushed to Valed's bedside in a flustered hurry, lifting him up. The experienced maids quickly understood his meaning. Immediately, someone brought three small bowls filled with warm rice porridge, milk, and minced meat, along with spoons, ready to feed Valed.
But just then, Valed's door swung open. A girl entered, dressed in a black Gothic dress, wearing black-and-white striped stockings. She had ivory-white skin, long, glossy black hair, and emerald-green eyes. Her features were exquisite, though her lips seemed slightly thin. Judging by her appearance, she couldn't have been older than six. Perhaps even younger.
"Young Miss," the servants greeted her promptly. But the girl didn't respond. Instead, she walked straight to the maid holding Valed. Seeing Valed, who had been coaxed into quietness, she wore an expression of delight.
Under her insistent gaze, the maid hesitated only briefly before handing Valed over. She took him carefully, gently patting his soft little cheek. A rare smile graced her face. Yet despite her caution, her posture holding the child was unprofessional. Valed felt uncomfortable and began crying again.
"My dear little brother, why are you crying?"
Seeing Valed start crying again, the girl panicked slightly. She tried to mimic the maid's actions to soothe him. Though her posture improved somewhat, all the fuss only made Valed hungrier.
"My dear little brother. What are you trying to say?" the girl asked, somewhat at a loss. Of course, Valed couldn't possibly answer her question.
"Um, young miss. I think the young master might be a bit hungry." After that, a timid voice, also belonging to a young girl, came from behind the girl. Following the sound, Valed glanced out of the corner of his eye. It was another equally beautiful little girl with chestnut-colored long hair and brown eyes, dressed in a large skirted maid outfit, her expression equally timid.
"Is that so? Oh." The girl who had called Valed "little brother" snorted lightly, seeming slightly displeased. "Then hurry up and feed him. Isn't that what you exist for?"
"Yes, yes... No, that's not right—even if the newborn is a vampire, it shouldn't—"
The little girl's words were cut off mid-sentence by the young lady who appeared to be Valed's older sister.
"Shouldn't what? Are you questioning my judgment?" The young lady raised an eyebrow, her tone accusatory. The little maid nearly burst into tears from the intimidation.
"No, no, no—that's not what I meant!" The maid waved her hands frantically, desperately trying to clarify. Only then did the young lady give a soft snort. She handed Valed back to the servant standing beside her, who dared not even breathe loudly. Drawing her dagger, she addressed the little maid:
"Then extend your hand."
Hearing the young lady's words, the little maid knew that further resistance would only make matters worse. Though her face was pale and she was terribly frightened, she tremblingly extended her hand. The young lady showed no mercy, slashing her wrist cleanly before dragging her to Valed. She pressed the dripping wrist to Valed's lips.
Before Valed, she wore her usual cheerful expression: "Drink up, my dear little brother."
Valed was utterly shocked, his conviction that "everyone here is a cult-worshipping freak" deepening. Yet inexplicably, upon inhaling the scent of that blood—tinged with the metallic tang of rust—his brain transmitted a message of "craving." It was a hunger more intense than anything he'd felt for the gruel, milk, or minced meat before.
In an instant, he was utterly captivated by that scent. Without struggle, he allowed the blood to flow into his mouth, stimulating his taste buds. A surge of joy, chaos, and satisfaction spread throughout his entire body. He instinctively lifted his head, wrapping his toothless little mouth around the offered wound and greedily began to suck.
As the blood flowed steadily into his body, Valed's thoughts sharpened, and the hunger within him was banished. Simultaneously, he felt his strength surge, along with a significant increase in his meager psychic reserves—now vastly more potent than even at his peak. The sensation was utterly wondrous, leaving Valed utterly addicted.
As the blood flowed away, the young maid's face grew paler. Of course, this was mostly psychological effect. As a newborn, Valed's appetite was not large. Just a few dozen milliliters of blood were enough to satisfy him. At the same time, the special chemicals secreted by his body numbed the maid's nerves, making her feel no pain.
Finally, with a slightly babyish burp, Valed was full and content, drifting back into slumber. Ignoring the faint trace of blood at his mouth, anyone would mistake this extraordinarily adorable child for an angel.
"Alright, you can go now." His sister gazed at Valed, now deeply asleep, as if beholding some rare treasure. As for that timid little maid—possessing beauty rivaling her own yet somehow irritating—she couldn't bear to look at her another moment.
Snatching Valed from the maid's arms, she still handled him awkwardly, causing him to squirm uncomfortably. Reluctantly, she placed him carefully on the bed. Leaning over the bedside, she gazed at Valed, gently tracing his face with her fingers, tugging at his small hand, and finally pressing a soft kiss upon his cheek. She couldn't seem to get enough of looking at him.
"Yes, young mistress." The maid seemed to exhale in relief, pressing her uninjured right hand against her still-bleeding left wrist. After a curtsy, she withdrew. The other servants took the opportunity to slip outside, leaving only the siblings behind.
Still by Valed's side was the eldest daughter of the von Kaststein family. She was also Valed von Kaststein's full sister, Isabella von Kaststein. At just six years old, she had fully inherited her mother's beauty, already a remarkable beauty in the making. During several family gatherings, she had caused small stirrings of excitement. Those who had seen her declared that when she grew up, she would become the most renowned beauty in Silvania.
While this assessment carried a hint of flattery, much of it was genuinely held. Beyond her looks, the girl possessed astonishing potential. She displayed an intense natural affinity for weapons and showed remarkable talent in alchemy, magical artifact crafting, and potion-making. Though limited by her age, she had only briefly touched upon these fields without formal training. Yet her exceptional performance had already astonished her tutors.
Such talent, beauty, and illustrious lineage fostered Isabella's lofty self-regard. She looked down not only on other races—humans, elves, dwarves—but even her own kind, the vampires, few of whom met her standards. This ultimately led her to become increasingly reclusive and unsociable—though still very much a child, this tendency hadn't yet become pronounced.
Yet, no matter how haughty or arrogant she became, deep within her childish heart, Isabella still yearned for a playmate. Or rather, she longed for a friend. In such moments, she often thought: "If only I had a little brother or sister."
Upon learning of her mother's second pregnancy, the eldest daughter was the happiest in the entire Castanin household. When her mother finally gave birth to a baby boy, Isabella could hardly wait to see the infant. And the moment she laid eyes on Valed, she fell instantly in love with this unbelievably beautiful little creature.