The Netherworld was a treacherous place, where the unwary could easily fall prey to the dangers that lurked in every shadow. A cart rattled down the road, its driver's voice calling out to the occupant inside.
"Mistress, there's a man lying near the road," the driver said, his tone low and cautious.
The curtain slid open, and a beautiful girl peered out. Her eyes, an unnatural red, scanned the scene before her. She saw the man, lying limp and unresponsive on the ground.
"See if he's alive," she ordered, her voice husky and commanding.
The driver climbed down from the cart and approached the man. He checked his pulse, then looked up at the girl.
"He's alive, just... unconscious," the driver reported.
"Looks like a noble born... perhaps a mage," the driver added, eyeing the man's attire, the magic staff beside him, and the magic ring on his finger.
"Bring him in," the girl ordered.
The driver lifted the man onto his back and carried him to the cart. He gently laid him down inside, then returned to the driver's seat and continued on their journey.
The girl, Isabelle Scarlet, watched the man with interest. Her red eyes seemed to gleam in the dim light. Her dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her pale, delicate skin seemed almost translucent. She looked like a porcelain doll, fragile and beautiful.
But there was something more to her, something that set her apart from the ordinary. A thirst, a hunger that lurked beneath her polished exterior. The smell of the man wafted up to her, and she felt a pang of desire. She controlled herself, however, her expression serene.
"What were you doing in a ditch like that?" she muttered, her voice barely audible.
The cart suddenly stopped, and Isabelle's head snapped up. Five demi-beast bandits stood in their way, a mixture of greed and lust in their eyes. The leader, a werewolf with a fierce build, sneered at the driver.
"Our target is the little Miss. If you run away now, we'll spare..." he began, but his words cut short.
Isabelle sensed the driver's movement, but she didn't intervene. The driver had already taken care of the bandits, slaughtering them in an instant. The cart continued on its way, leaving the bodies behind.
After a while, the cart stopped in front of a castle. The gates creaked open, and the cart rolled inside.
"We've arrived, mistress," the driver said, bowing his head.
Isabelle stepped out, her eyes scanning the surroundings. The castle loomed above her, its towers reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers.
Isabelle nodded, her gaze fixed on the castle. "Bring him in," she ordered, gesturing to the man.
The driver bowed and lifted the man out of the cart. Isabelle led the way, her skirts rustling as she walked. The castle's interior was just as imposing as its exterior, with cobweb-covered portraits and flickering candles casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The butler, a tall, thin man with a gaunt face and sunken eyes, welcomed Isabelle with a bow. "Welcome back, mistress," he said, his voice low and gravelly.
Isabelle nodded, her eyes gleaming with a hint of sadness. "She was attacked again," the driver said, his voice low. "The numbers are increasing."
The butler's expression turned grave.
"Who is the man?" the butler asked, eyeing the stranger.
"A stray. I was asked to pick him up." the driver replied.
The next day, Holy Mage Cassius woke up with a pounding headache. He looked around, taking in the luxurious bedroom. Where was he?
His stomach growled, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Suddenly, the door opened, and the butler stood in the doorway.
"Oh, you're awake, young man," the butler said, his voice warm. "Come down, and I'll prepare something for you to eat. The mistress also wants to see you."
Cassius was confused, but his hunger won out. He followed the butler down to the dining hall, where a small girl with piercing red eyes sat eating breakfast.
"Oh, you're awake," Isabelle said, her voice husky, her fangs glinting in the light.
Cassius's heart skipped a beat. He was in the presence of a vampire, a creature of the night, a monster.
Cassius looked at Isabelle with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. "Thank you for saving me," he said, his voice sincere.
Isabelle raised an eyebrow, her red eyes sparkling with interest. "No problem, but what were you doing there, being unconscious in a place like that? Undefended, it was a recipe for inviting strangers to rob and kill you. It was fortunate that I was the one who found you."
Cassius smiled awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed about his situation. "Believe me, I had no choice in that situation," he said, trying to brush off the question.
Isabelle nodded, her expression softening. "Well, don't worry, I'm not going to interrogate you. Sit and eat," she said, gesturing to the food on the table.
As Cassius ate, he couldn't help but think about the unexpected turn of events. This was totally different from what he had known. In the living world, people were taught that vampires were blood-sucking creatures with no empathy, but this vampire right in front of him had saved his life.
Cassius's mind was racing with questions and doubts. How could a vampire, a creature of the night, be so kind and compassionate? What was her motive for saving him? And what did she want from him in return?
While eating, Cassius couldn't help but steal glances at Isabelle, trying to read her expression. She seemed genuinely concerned about him, and her eyes sparkled with kindness. It was a far cry from the monster he had expected her to be.
Cassius had learned a lesson today, one that he would never forget. "To not judge a book by its cover," he thought to himself.
As he finished his meal, Cassius looked up at Isabelle, feeling a sense of gratitude and respect for her. "Thank you again for saving me," he said, his voice sincere. "I owe you one."