The red card warning dominated the prince's eyes and mind as the entire futsal field dissolved.

Diego's death could be confirmed by the slow fading of his body into mist. The stake was still there, already free from the pierced heart, and the first thing Vast sought was the person who had made the shot.

However, something grabbed his feet as he turned his head. Chains similar to those of the Cursed One from the city fixed him in place. He failed to break them.

"Is this the penalty?! Is it being counted as if someone interfered in the game at my command?"

The skill system was simpler than he thought. Vast or Diego, whoever was injured would be the victim and the other, consequently, the culprit. No additional judgments.

What came next wasn't one or two, but hundreds of soccer balls. The field continued to disappear, but the spheres appeared in legions as fast as ever.

Shit! The only thought the prince managed to have. In the following instant, each of the spheres flew at him, one by one, hitting different parts of his body with each attack. An endless queue, each blow carrying the force equivalent to the kicks he had made throughout the game.

For a while, the only thing heard in the area was the dense collisions of the infinite balls against Vast's flesh. Shockwaves ran through his body, marking the ground around him with small craters.

Throughout this time, Prince Vast remained standing. It couldn't be known for sure whether it was due to pure strength or being trapped. But it was a fact that, regardless of which, no one dared to approach that figure until, finally, he was knocked down on the ground.

The last thing the prince saw was three pairs of legs approaching, as his vision darkened.

***

Prince...

Prince Vast...?

VAST!!

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up, immediately assaulted by a short but potent wave of pain.

He was in the castle, lying in his large bed. Sunlight streamed in through the morning window, along with a fresh breeze carrying the calm chirping of birds nesting among the rocks of the walls.

"Finally awake. I was getting worried..."

The cheerful voice drew his expectant gaze. Emilia, he murmured, but was met with a completely different person.

"You slept for three days straight, my prince. Climbing that giant tree just to rescue a few children was far too dangerous! You should think about calling for help next time!"

A woman taller than him — still wearing the maid's clothes —, with pale, delicate skin. Her short black hair sometimes melded with her outfit, while all attention was drawn to her pair of hypnotic emerald eyes. Her calm and curious expression, highlighting the two small fangs protruding from her mouth, decorating her thin, pink lips. A jewel that stood out even buried in a sea of black sand.

Vast analyzed her for a few seconds, merely stroking his own head before responding:

"There was no one nearby. They would have fallen from there if I hadn't intervened; they would probably have died from the fall."

"Better them than you! Only you can inherit the throne, don't forget that!"

After the lecture, followed a conversation where Emilia recounted everything that had happened during the days the prince was unconscious.

The king continued to issue somewhat dubious decrees, and to this day Vast had never even been able to see his father's face, given the thick beard and hair he had refused to cut since a certain day, quite suddenly. It was also on that day that the man stopped speaking.

Regardless, he hadn't made any changes that actually affected the population. What really changed only affected the vampires, making it easier for them to capture or feed on humans — not that they respected laws to begin with.

With Emilia's help, the only maid in the entire castle, Vast was able to recover in a few days. The fact that he was a Cursed One also helped, ironically. As soon as he could, he returned to strolling through the streets of Von Legurn, as he always did.

Despite the vampires roaming freely and an attack could happen at any moment, people lived as if none of it existed. Children played in the streets, always gathered in groups of five or more. Parents prepared the available food every day, divided into three meals: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Any extra meal would deplete the stock for another time.

A simple life. People's total conformity with a calamity that, no matter how much they wanted, they could do nothing about, so they simply accepted it as part of reality — as one does with a new disease.

While walking through the residential districts accompanied by Emilia, Vast asked:

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"How many disappeared last week?"

"Fifty. Mostly adult men. They're just rumors, but it seems that two of them were Cursed Ones."

"I see," he murmured. A possible attempt to further reduce Von Legurn's firepower — even though currently the power was enough only to destroy a backyard.

Lost in his usual reveries, Vast was surprised by something mundane. A small crowd of people huddled together, blocking his path. All adults, each carrying in their hands a humble bag that, just by looking, should have two or three coins each. Enough for a decent meal.

"Prince Vast, please take these coins," said the woman at the front.

The prince stepped back a little, noticeably uncomfortable. No matter how many times he repeated it, he would never get used to that gesture.

"I can't. Not even my father does such a thing, so how could I accept the little money my subjects have? Furthermore, our management is magnificent," he said, looking at the imposing castle. "Only then are we able to maintain, at the very least, a good appearance, even though the vampires make each day more difficult than the last."

The crowd looked at each other with concern, devoid of any sign of giving up. Vast, on the other hand, stood firm in his decision. However, the voice of reason was right beside him.

"The Kingdom of Von Legurn thanks everyone for their help. Those who wish to make a donation can come to the main square at noon."

He briefly glanced at Emilia. He knew she would do it, just as he understood he was incapable of stopping her. Whatever it was, there were situations where his heart simply forgot what it was to confront that woman, like a kind of magic.

And so it was. Vast followed the path and returned to the castle. Emilia collected the donations at exactly noon, only then returning to the prince's side.

Night fell, and both sat at the dinner table for two. All the food prepared by the maid, a curiously vast menu, resulting in a considerable table. It wasn't the great abundance one would expect from a castle, but enough for the two present to be satisfied.

"You didn't need to accept that money. We're doing just fine," said Vast, observing everything around him.

"It's rude to refuse help from others. Would you ignore me if I offered to help you?"

"Of course not."

"Exactly."

Emilia resumed eating calmly. The path from fork to mouth was repeated once every two minutes, without fail. Despite the delay, she never left a grain of food behind. An example that Vast tried to imitate to the fullest.

"I don't understand," he said, setting down his utensil and lowering his head. "Why do people insist on giving me money? I recently heard some children calling me 'The Poor Prince'."

It wasn't a bother, far from it, but it aroused curiosity. He, a prince living in a huge castle, part of the highest nobility, always received money from those on the brink of financial collapse due to the vampires.

With the question, he slowly raised his head, expecting Emilia to respond soon. It was typical of her. But he ended up freezing.

She looked at him with an atypical smile. It was wide, almost reaching the woman's ears, but still hiding her teeth. And besides that, that environment around her...

"My dear prince, don't pay attention to what children say. You know how they are, don't you? They talk through their hats," she said, taking another forkful and finally a sip of the red drink she always prepared for herself. "Shall we review the etiquette lessons after dinner, okay?"

Cobwebs everywhere, rats roaming freely. Windows were unnecessary in the absence of several walls. No protection against rain, sun, or winter. Only the table was real, with exactly the same food. A destroyed castle.

"My imagination...?"

***

Vast slowly opened his eyes. A faint, orange light struggled to overcome the darkness but was soon defeated. There was the creak of a gate opening, followed by the appearance of a pair of legs in front of the prince.

"That aura..." He didn't need to look, in fact, he didn't want to.

Original Vampire

Strength 84/100

Agility 50/100

Intelligence 65/100

He was dressed elegantly. Long legs, a perfectly defined abdomen — for some reason, it was exposed — and the handsome face. Indeed, the face was what really stood out. The amber eyes, almost possible to see a prehistoric mosquito trapped inside. The skin was pale enough to act as a mirror, allowing Vast to see his own reflection. Hair somewhat slicked back, but the taste and smell of the shampoo made the cow give up halfway. The blank expression of a hunk who overdid it in showing off.

"Who are you?" the prince asked.

"I should be asking that..." The Vampire knelt, sniffing the boy's neck.

A short shock made Vast tremble before responding immediately: "Vast Los Filho, prince and sole heir to the throne of Von Legurn."

Huh!? The mouth moved on its own, causing cold sweat to run down Vast's face for the first time in a long time.

The vampire stood up, smiling and celebratory.

"So it's really you. Impressive to have made it here alive." He posed dramatically, as if trying to impress a woman. "A shame you failed."

"Was it you who did that during the game?"

Such a direct question made the creature's body curve in disappointment.

"Yes, it was me, Eduardo!! I was watching from the beginning of the game. The plan was to let Diego finish, but I preferred to make sure you would suffer a red card penalty rather than risk letting him make that last move."

Vast tried to break free, but the strength that should have been abundant in his body simply didn't exist. The Red Shooter and the Nunchaku were out of sight.

"It's useless. These chains were created by a Cursed One capable of canceling any other abilities. It was very hard work to create him, so of course, it's a very powerful ability."

Eduardo backed away, leaning against the iron bars in such a way that his abdomen was very well observable.

Again moved by the force he didn't know, the prince's mouth moved on its own.

"And what do you intend to do now?" He clicked his tongue. "What kind of ability is this? It's making me talk!"

"I'm glad you asked! My goal is simple..." He adjusted his hair and pointed upwards. "To master the sun!"

What a surprise... That was the thought, because from Vast's mouth came something else: "And how do you intend to do that?"

Mastering the sun was the goal of literally every vampire. As much as they didn't exactly die if exposed, it still caused discomfort for being very anemic.

In other words, since a vampire is a living corpse, if a vampire stays exposed to the sun for too long, they would end up becoming healthy, consequently returning to life and ceasing to be a vampire, which is considered a kind of undead. In summary, they died because they became too healthy.

"As you well know, my dear prince, all vampires have a special ability..."

With a snap of his fingers, the ceiling, which should have been of a cave, opened. A metal hatch allowed light to enter the place without problems, illuminating Eduardo's body mainly — he made a point of taking off his shirt.

"My ability, [Sonne]... allows me to manipulate the sunlight that reaches my body!"

Reaching Eduardo's body, the light was reflected as if in a mirror. Vast was blinded for a few moments, and when he was able to observe, he saw beams of light sticking to the walls like stakes, as humanoid figures sprouted from inside the vampire's body.

"With this power... the power of the sun itself..." He raised his arms, triumphant. "I will conquer the Tower!"