Chapter 8: The Bloody Tsar

Chapter 8: The Bloody Tsar

Malus performed an exaggerated, flamboyant aristocratic bow and addressed the woman in Imperial, "Greetings, beautiful old lady, do you require our services?"

The woman’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but intimidated by the crossbows nearby, she hesitated, repeatedly opening and closing her mouth.

Lethen and Edmund, having heard the gunshot, rushed over as well.

Malus continued, "Well, nothing to say? Where are you headed?"

The woman suddenly shed tears and blurted out, "I am going to Mousillon. My father is critically ill, and I must return to see him one last time." As she spoke, she wiped her eyes with her hand.

Malus barked, "Why does a centenarian crone feign the modesty of a maiden!"

This shout startled the nearby Druchii. Lethen and Dastan Cold-Eye couldn't hold it in and burst into laughter, while Edmund and the Black Ark corsairs nearby looked on in confusion.

Malus added, "Why don't you say you're going to the Silver Spire? Do you believe I’ll nail you into an iron coffin, tie an anchor to it, and sink you to the bottom of the sea?"

The woman panicked completely. She couldn't even hold her sword steady; it clattered to the deck, and she collapsed to the floor.

Malus continued, "Let me guess? You’re on the run, aren't you?"

The woman quickly composed herself and stood back up, saying with poise, "That is correct. Those sisters of the Sisterhood of Lahmia reported me."

Malus laughed, then turned to Lethen and Dastan Cold-Eye and said in Druchii, "She is a vampire hiding in the human world, formerly of the Sisterhood of Lahmia. She’s been reported to the authorities by her sisters, her identity is exposed, and she’s fleeing."

Lethen and Dastan Cold-Eye exchanged a glance, and then Lethen quipped, "This routine, why does it sound so familiar?"

The group of Druchii roared with laughter, and the cabin was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

"Old lady, how old are you? What’s your name?"

The woman’s face flushed red. Gritting her teeth, veins bulging on her forehead, she said, "My name is Tatlin, and I am over four hundred years old."

As soon as she said this, Dastan Cold-Eye’s face turned green. At just over three hundred years old, his experience was still lacking. He trembled with rage, pointing his blade at her with a shaking hand. The Druchii loved all forms of betting and gambling, even if it meant wagering their own lives. No one liked to lose; one could cheat or welsh on a bet, but it depended on who the opponent was.

"Damn, I thought you were Genevieve. What relation is Lady Melissa D'Acier to you?"

Tatlin looked at Malus in shock and said, "That is my grandmother. Who exactly are you? How do you know so much?"

Malus nodded and said, "Since you asked with such sincerity, I shall show mercy and tell you! I do not change my name when I travel, nor do I hide it when I sit! I am of the Druchii of Karond Kar, the famous Lokhir Fellheart!"

Lethen and Dastan Cold-Eye almost lost their composure again.

"It seems you won't be able to send my regards to Lady Neferata. I'll send you to Mousillon to see your father; you can figure out the rest yourself." He then added, "Let's go, start moving the cargo. This ship is full of wine; we’ll drink our fill today! The water on this ship has started growing green fuzz."

Why did Malus let this woman go so easily? Because this vampire would likely become the longest-reigning Tsar of Kislev, known as "Tatlin the Bloody." Her court ministers were all female vampires, and the Boyars couldn't stand it anymore. In the end, her son Pavel stood up and forced her into a stroke. Malus seemed to understand what that indescribable feeling was—it was fate!

Walking out of the cabin, the sky was already beginning to brighten.

After a meal, Malus returned to his cabin to catch up on sleep. When he woke, Dastan Cold-Eye brought over the treasure map.

Malus opened the parchment map to study it and asked, "Where did this come from? Any leads?"

Dastan Cold-Eye replied, "I won it in a bet. I’ve had it for a while, but I can't tell where it is."

Malus glanced at Dastan Cold-Eye, his look implying, *Are you trying to pull a fast one on me?*

Dastan Cold-Eye quickly explained, "Young Master, last winter, the Black Ark *Despair's Shadow* was undergoing repairs and resupply at Karond Kar. I won it from their Admiral. If I weren't serving House Scourge, he would have killed me."

Malus mused, "Truly, no sense of honor."

He nodded reluctantly and handed the map back to Dastan Cold-Eye, saying, "Wait until you become an Admiral before talking about this. This location is the Dragon Isles."

Dastan Cold-Eye took the map, prostrated himself on the floor, and bowed deeply. This was what he had been waiting for on this entire trip.

"Yeah, yeah, that's enough. Keep it safe. Stop gambling so much in the future; losing a treasure map isn't the end of the world, but don't lose your life."

Five days later, the coastline of Mousillon.

Malus said to Tatlin, "You can swim, right?"

Tatlin looked speechlessly at the coastline still some distance away. Beside them, Alisha and Dastan Cold-Eye were itching to kick her off. Alisha wanted to kick her because the vampire had been trying to get close to Malus for the past few days.

"Can you return my weapon to me?"

Malus was spinning his gold-plated flintlock pistol with his finger. He suddenly stopped, hunched his body, and aimed the flintlock at Tatlin’s side—a proper American-style stance.

"If you hadn't mentioned it, I would have forgotten. You stayed on the ship for five days; consider that the fare. Hand over the bullets and the ramrod!"

"You!"

Tatlin had no choice but to take them out and throw them on the ground.

"What kind of attitude is that? You can go now."

Tatlin glared at Malus, gritting her teeth, "You really are a gentleman!"

"Thank you for the compliment. Goodbye! My dear lady, if there is an opportunity, we will come to visit you."

Tatlin ignored Malus and jumped directly into the sea, swimming toward the shore.

Malus raised his gun, aiming at Tatlin as she dog-paddled, and said coldly, "Give her a boat, and she’ll kill the rower the moment she hits the shore, drain his blood, and use it to show off to us."

Dastan Cold-Eye asked in confusion, "Young Master, I still don't understand why you let her go."

Alisha checked the ramrod and the bag to ensure there were no spells, blades, or traps. After confirming everything was safe, she picked them up and handed them to Malus.

Malus first cleared the barrel with the ramrod, loaded the gunpowder, placed the lead ball into the muzzle, rammed it home, and raised the gun to aim at Tatlin, who was still dog-paddling.

*Bang!* The gunshot rang out, and the bullet struck the water beside Tatlin, splashing up a spray. Malus shook his head in regret.

"Lokhir Fellheart! I will remember you! You bastard! Don't let me run into you again!"

Tatlin paddled even harder, her voice fading into the distance.

Malus blew on the muzzle of his gun.

"Don't ask, if you ask, it's fate!"

PS: There is a small bug in this chapter.

(End of chapter)