Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant-Chapter 259: Velra — The Deceiving Ground Spider [5]

The scent trailed faintly over the snow, streaked with red where it had mingled with magic.

A sly smile tugged at Dusk’s lips. "Heh... even if you’re a parasite like me, even if I can’t absorb your essence—your blood, at least, should be mine."

It wasn’t hunger. It was greed.

The hunger of a parasite fused with the arrogance of a vampire—a perfect, ruinous combination.

Step by step, Dusk advanced toward Julies, his shadow stretching long behind him.

-Crack...le.

A low sound of electricity sparked through the air.

Julies’s body convulsed slightly, a groan tearing from his throat.

"Ugh..."

"Just a precaution," Dusk murmured, amusement coloring his tone. "Can’t have you moving while I’m eating."

He flicked his fingers, and a thin web of lightning crackled across Julies’s limbs, paralyzing him in place.

Then Dusk leaned down, his fangs glinting faintly in the dim red glow of the battlefield.

"Offer your blood to me."

And without hesitation—

Crunch.

His fangs sank deep into the side of Julies’s neck.

Warmth spilled over his tongue.

And then—

’...Ah.’

The world vanished.

The instant the blood touched his tongue, Dusk forgot every other taste he had ever known. Orcs, demons, humans, beasts—nothing compared. Not even the blood of vampires, which once gave him a thrill of superiority, came close to this.

This was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just blood. It was mana made liquid. Life condensed into flavor.

Each drop slid over his tongue like molten honey, burning with power, intoxicating his senses.

His throat worked greedily, swallowing mouthful after mouthful as ecstasy shot through his body.

Every nerve screamed for more.

His body trembled—not with restraint, but with pleasure.

A low groan escaped his throat, half laughter, half delirium. "Ahh... your blood... is truly... a supreme delicacy!"

He withdrew his fangs slightly, his crimson eyes glowing brighter than before, his voice trembling with manic satisfaction.

"I have devoured countless emotions... countless souls... yet none—none—compare to this taste!"

The wind howled around them, and Dusk’s laughter echoed across the frozen wasteland, twisted and inhuman, filled with hunger that no world could ever sate.

The laughter lingered, sharp and deranged, before fading into a hoarse sigh.

Steam curled from Dusk’s lips as the heat of Julies’s blood clashed with the freezing air. The snow beneath them melted into a red smear, hissing softly.

Julies twitched weakly beneath him, the color drained from his face, breath shallow and uneven. His eyes fluttered open for a moment—glazed, unfocused—but even in that haze, there was defiance.

"Y... you... monster..."

Dusk tilted his head, the smear of blood still glistening on his chin. He licked it slowly, as if savoring the memory.

"Monster?" he repeated with a chuckle, voice low and indulgent. "No. I am perfection—the next step."

He straightened slightly, still straddling Julies’s limp body. The air crackled faintly, his lightning aura flaring as the stolen mana surged through his veins. His body pulsed with new strength—his wounds knitting, his power doubling.

It was intoxicating.

So this is what pure blood tastes like...

His senses sharpened—vision deepening, hearing expanding until he could make out even the faint heartbeat of a soldier hiding far behind the broken ridge. Every living thing around him throbbed like a pulse in his mind, drawing his attention, feeding his greed.

He wanted more.

No—he needed more.

But before he could lower his head again, Julies’s lips moved. A faint, broken whisper escaped between his breaths.

"You think... that body... will obey you forever?"

For a moment, Dusk froze.

The words barely registered, but the tone—calm and certain—cut through the haze of pleasure that clouded his mind.

Then, slowly, he smirked.

"Obey me?" he said, laughter bubbling up from his chest. "This body belongs to me now, King! Hahahaha—!"

The sound was sharp, almost manic, echoing across the frozen field.

Dusk laughed—or rather, Velra’s body laughed.

It didn’t matter anymore. The line between them had already blurred.

’Time to finish this little game,’ he thought, stepping closer to Julies, whose body trembled weakly in the snow.

"As a courtesy to my predecessor king," Dusk said mockingly, raising his hand, crackling with lightning, "I’ll grant your last words. Do you have anything you want to say?"

A faint, crooked smile crossed Julies’s pale face. Even bleeding, even dying, he still had the gall to grin.

"I’m honored that you enjoyed my blood so much," he rasped, his voice hoarse but steady. "Why don’t you... wake up now?"

Dusk blinked.

Then his smile widened. "Wake up?" He let out a low, amused scoff. "You’re still hoping to appeal to emotions? How foolish. There’s nothing left of Velra to wake. She’s mine now—forever."

He raised his hand again, lightning flaring brighter. "Now die—"

And then—

He froze.

His vision blurred. His knees buckled.

"What—what is this...?" he choked, his voice cracking.

The lightning fizzled out in his palm. A tremor ran through his body, violent and uncontrollable. His grip on Velra’s form began to falter, muscles spasming as if rejecting his very presence.

He stumbled backward, crashing into the snow with a heavy thud.

"What... what is this sorcery!?" he snarled, clawing at his own chest as veins began to darken beneath his skin. His mana surged wildly, no longer obeying him—turning against him.

Julies coughed weakly, blood staining the snow near his lips. "Pant... pant..." He managed to smirk, even as his breath came ragged. "You should’ve... drunk verified blood first..."

Dusk’s eyes widened in horror.

"What—did you—?"

Julies chuckled faintly, his tone almost mocking despite the pain. "You parasites are all the same. You think you’re clever, but you never check what’s inside your prey. How would you know," his lips curved into a faint, triumphant smile, "if there were other parasites already inside?"

Dusk’s eyes flared crimson as his body convulsed harder, collapsing fully into the snow.

Inside him, something stirred. Something alien.

The blood he’d consumed wasn’t ordinary—it was alive.

And it didn’t like being eaten.

"Ghh—ghaaaaaah!" Dusk screamed, his voice twisting between human and monstrous tones.

Julies exhaled slowly, the faintest ghost of a smile still on his lips. "I told you... not all prey... is yours to devour."

As "Velra" reached out, mana gathering at her fingertips, a calm voice broke through the tension.

"Did you know," Julies said, his tone almost conversational despite the blood dripping from his chin, "if you mix frostleaf with cronberries—the northern specialty—you get a poison that’s especially effective against parasites?"

He laughed. A rough, tired laugh, but one that carried the weight of something final.

"Hahaha... so that means?" she asked, her tone sharp, suspicious.

Julies grinned faintly, teeth stained red. "It means that while I—the king—am immune to it... you, having drunk the mixed blood, are not."

The color drained from her face.

Before she could react, her vision blurred. The power she’d been gathering faltered midair, flickering like a candle caught in the wind.

She staggered. Her temples throbbed. The world tilted.

And in that brief moment of weakness—

Swish!

Julies moved.

Every muscle screamed in protest, his body half-burned, pierced, and still reeking of charred flesh. Yet somehow, he stood tall. Step by step, he advanced through the scorched snow, sword dragging a faint line behind him.

"So," he rasped, "are you prepared now?"

His voice carried no rage, only cold conviction. The kind that preceded judgment.

Her mind spun. "H-how can this be?! How can you move with that battered body!?"

Julies tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Poison, pain, curses... call it what you like. Everyone has a trick or two—just like you, who stole Lady Velra’s body."

His tone hardened. "But you made one mistake. You thought I didn’t."

’Velra’ clenched her fist and forced herself upright, trembling.

"It’s fine," she whispered to herself. "This body... it’s noble. A true vampire’s vessel. Even if you strike, it’ll react on instinct. I’ll heal faster than you can swing."

Her hand glowed with blood-red light, and her lips curled into a confident smirk.

Yet that very thought—her private, unspoken calculation—made Julies chuckle.

"Oh, that’s cute," he murmured.

Her eyes widened. "What—?!"

He took another step, slow and deliberate.

"Did you really think I couldn’t hear your thoughts?" His gaze sharpened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You parasites always chatter so loudly in your host’s mind."

Her mouth fell open in shock—then she snapped it shut, biting her lip.

Too late.

He was already there.

His hand caught her wrist mid-swing, twisting effortlessly until the red light fizzled out. Her strength was fading, her body sluggish with the poison now burning through her veins.

Julies leaned in close, his breath warm against her cold skin.

"Now, now..." His tone turned darkly amused. "The fruit that bears poison is always the sweetest. So go on—drink."

Her pupils trembled. "No...! Don’t—!"

But she couldn’t resist. His presence pressed down on her like gravity itself, impossible to fight.

And then, instinct took over.

Her fangs extended, sharp and desperate, and before her rational mind could stop her, she bit—hard—into his forearm.

The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

Her body shuddered. A scream tore through the air.

"Kyaaah!!"

Julies didn’t flinch.

Instead, he smiled. Coldly.

"Good," he whispered. "Now, let the poison finish what I started."

The crimson light that had once flared in her eyes began to fade. Her body convulsed, the parasite’s control unraveling thread by thread.

And as she crumpled to the ground, trembling and gasping for air, Julies stood above her—ragged, burned, half-dead—yet utterly unyielding.

The execution of a traitor was never clean.

But it was necessary.

----

Thanks for reading.