C88 — The devil’s Banquet (II)

The tone of his voice made Kou Dong shiver slightly, an inexplicable prickling crawling over his scalp.

That single sentence made it feel as though Kou Dong were not a living, breathing person, but a pastry laid out on a plate.

Before he could recover from this strange sensation, the old butler in the corner stepped forward and, with a click, opened the gold pocket watch at his chest. He glanced at the time and said in a low voice, “My lord, it is time for dinner.”

“Is that so?”

Baron Leglis, interrupted mid-moment, finally withdrew at an unhurried pace. He glanced at his companions behind him and curled his lips into a smile.

“In that case, please allow me to invite everyone to proceed.”

He licked his lips and spoke slowly.

“—I believe this will be a feast unlike any you have ever seen.”

The nobles rose from their chairs one after another and made their way toward the banquet hall. Ye Yanzhi followed a step behind Kou Dong, keeping that one-pace distance, and entered the dining hall together with the other guests.

The banquet hall was enormous.

All the wall-mounted candelabra had been lit, yet even with the gathered light, the space remained suspended between brightness and shadow—half-lit, half-dark, the scenery before one’s eyes hazy and indistinct.

The chatting, laughing guests took their seats along the long table. Kou Dong glanced around and quietly sat down in a chair at the very end.

The master of the estate had not yet appeared. The seat of honor was still occupied by Baron Leglis, the man who had written the invitation. Kou Dong did his best to remain inconspicuous, angling his body away so as not to draw attention.

“Viscount Glen!”

Just then, the baron at the head of the table called out loudly, extending a hand toward him.

Everyone’s gaze converged at once. In the glow of the candlelight, both host and guests had vividly red, full lips, the corners lifted as if smiling.

The baron’s complexion was aristocratically pale. His blue eyes and platinum-blond curls made him look like someone who had stepped out of a medieval oil painting—or perhaps a kept lover of some noble lady. Leaning languidly against his chair, he extended only his upper body toward Kou Dong, his tone warm and intimate, as though they had known each other for centuries rather than having met for the first time today.

“Viscount Glen, my beautiful guest from afar—please, you must take a seat by my side.”

Kou Dong paused, inwardly flipping this capricious NPC the finger. But as a guest, he couldn’t exactly refuse the host’s “kindness.” He stood up from his seat, and a servant was already guiding him toward the first position on the left side of the long table.

He cast a glance across the table.

Seated there was another young noble, lounging carelessly while idly toying with a tall, glass goblet in his hand.

Only after Kou Dong sat down did the man lazily lift his eyelids.

They were pale green eyes.

The owner of those eyes had a youthful face, red lips and white teeth, yet his complexion was just as pale as the others’, tinged with an eerie coolness. Even under the candlelight, he didn’t look any healthier.

To Kou Dong, it felt as though everyone present was gravely ill—one step away from ascending to heaven.

Everyone except him, the lone healthy person.

Once all the guests were seated, the baron finally raised his goblet high and began his speech.

Compared to his thoroughly aristocratic bearing, the speech itself was surprisingly brief—just two sentences:

“On behalf of Count Kester, I welcome you all and thank our benevolent and generous lord.”

“Please do not restrain yourselves—enjoy to your heart’s content.”

The scene was, in truth, rather absurd, because the table before them was completely empty. There were no dishes laid out at all—only glass goblets placed in front of each person, one per seat.

Kou Dong watched, feeling inexplicably at a loss.

What exactly were they supposed to eat?

…Chew on the table?

He looked toward the others, only to see that they all sat upright and composed, occasionally flicking their gazes toward the tightly closed door, as though waiting for something.

With no other choice, Kou Dong waited as well. A few seconds later, the old butler pushed the door open again.

Behind him followed a long line of servants. Each held a small silver basin, and they approached the table one by one. From a distance, a hint of red could be seen inside.

Red wine?

As they drew closer, Kou Dong caught a strange scent—clearly metallic and bloody, yet tinged with a cloying sweetness.

Almost like…

His gaze snapped to the basin, and what he saw was a glaring, eye-searing red. The vivid liquid was poured from the silver basins into each guest’s cup, thick and viscous, filling most of the crystal-clear glass goblets.

Up close, the smell grew even stronger.

Kou Dong’s stomach began to cramp.

“An aperitif,” the baron at the head of the table curled his lips. “Please.”

The guests all raised their cups to their lips. To Kou Dong, even the way they drank differed. Some gulped it down eagerly, their cheeks flushing with pleasure the moment they finished; others sipped slowly, as though savoring the taste.

The baron, however, never let the rim touch his lips. He merely lifted the cup, brought it to his nose, inhaled lightly, and then set it back down.

The young noble across from Kou Dong frowned, forced himself to take a small sip, and immediately beckoned to the butler.

The old butler seemed well prepared. In just a few steps he arrived, presenting a silver rinsing cup. The young noble rinsed his mouth with water, turned back toward the baron, and tossed out a cold appraisal:

“Sour and foul.”

The baron nodded, seeming somewhat helpless, yet only chuckled softly. “Picky.”

They were clearly disdainful of this kind of drink.

Kou Dong had already formed a guess, but it wasn’t something he could voice aloud in this situation. He brought the goblet closer and gave it a cautious sniff, restraining himself from taking a deep breath.

Even with mental preparation, confirming it still made him deeply uncomfortable.

This wasn’t wine at all.

It was blood—still faintly warm…

“So fresh,” a guest remarked, now left with nothing but an empty cup before him. He praised the baron. “How many years?”

At his side, the old butler bowed slightly and replied respectfully, “Sixteen years. Just collected for you, from a young lady who sold flowers.”

“No wonder,” the guest murmured, bringing the rim—still stained with traces of blood—close to his lips. “I can smell the fragrance of flowers…”

“Lowborn,” someone beside him shook his head, commenting. “The flavor is thin.”

These vampires sat at the table like refined gentlemen, exchanging opinions on taste and texture. If one listened only to their conversation, it might have sounded as though they were discussing ordinary wine.

Only Kou Dong sat there on pins and needles.

To his left was the great vampire seated at the head of the table—clearly the leader.

To his right stretched a long line of ordinary vampires, leisurely sampling the freshly served blood.

Straight ahead sat a picky, pampered young vampire…

Kou Dong felt a genuine sense of suffocation.

Now he finally understood why his friend, with this identity, had vanished without a trace after entering the castle. Damn it—falling into a vampire nest, what normal human could possibly come out with news?!

Worst of all, there was only one human here.

What was this?

A pure, innocent little lamb charging headfirst into a den of wolves?

Even dressed as a wolf?!

Kou Dong felt like the next second he’d be laid out on the banquet table himself, and he nearly shouted in frustration at the system’s perverse sense of humor.

He had long known this cursed system didn’t want him to clear the stage, but to deliberately design a scene like this—so brazenly—is just insane!

Of course, he couldn’t bring himself to drink a drop. The baron at the head of the table noticed and turned his piercing blue eyes toward him.

“Well?” he asked with a smile, addressing this guest from afar. The guest’s head was slightly bowed, his neck pale, delicate, almost translucent—the kind of flawless oriental jade Kou Dong had once seen at the count’s waist. The baron’s gaze deepened, his two sharp fangs pressing against his lips. “Not to your taste?”

The other vampires at the table turned their eyes on him. Their gaze was scorching, alarming. Kou Dong could bet that if he showed even the slightest weakness, these vampires could drain him dry, one by one, leaving nothing but a husk.

But even if he tried, Kou Dong simply couldn’t drink it.

—If he could, then something was seriously wrong!

Frowning, he pushed the goblet further away. Raising his head, he embodied the arrogance of a young nobleman born and raised to be indulged, openly disdainful of this “delicacy” praised by the other vampires.

“I cannot drink this,” he said honestly, his gaze meeting the baron’s without shame. “You invited me here… surely not to serve something like this?”

The baron’s smile deepened. He studied Kou Dong and said slowly, “Truly a picky guest.”

The young noble across the table glanced over as well, seemingly intrigued by someone with a taste similar to his own.

“It matters not,” the baron said softly. “This is merely an aperitif—”

“The main course will, I hope, satisfy you.”

He clapped his hands. The servants silently stepped forward, removing the goblets one by one. In an instant, the tabletop was spotless again. Those vampires who had been drinking the blood elegantly dabbed their mouths with white napkins and returned the napkins to the servants.

The new dish was presented.

This time, four servants carefully carried a large silver platter to the table. On it lay a na-ked boy, barely covered with a wide swath of white cloth over his lower body. His mouth was gagged with a cloth strip. His eyes darted around in fear, his hands and feet struggling helplessly.

The noble across the table spoke again, more concisely than before, his disdain almost spilling over: “Filthy.”

The baron waved his hand. “Quiet him.”

A servant stepped forward, leaning close to the boy’s neck. From his side, Kou Dong clearly saw the servant’s sharp fangs pierce the skin and sink in.

The boy’s struggling abruptly ceased. He stared ahead, seemingly overwhelmed with ecstasy, his entire body trembling slightly. His gaze went vacant, a rapt expression on his face, and he didn’t even notice the servant’s blo-od-dripped fingers removing the gag. He murmured something indistinct.

Listening closely, it almost sounded like he was saying “Heaven.”

 

“Such a pity,” the baron said softly, elegantly wiping the crimson from his lips with a pristine napkin. His face was as dignified as a finely sculpted statue in a cathedral, yet the light in his pupils was cold and indifferent, utterly merciless.

“This is not Heaven.”

“—This is Hell.”

 

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TN:

Life is f-cked up.

I’m not in the best place rn mentally, so more updates I guess, cause I really needed to be distracted.

Hopefully things don’t get worse for me 🫠.