Martial Emperor of Blue Star, Turned into a Blood Slave Girl by a Vampire Princess

Isabella stepped in front of Degrienne in a blink, black hair rising despite the still air.
“Please step back,” ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) she said—voice as calm as ever.
In that same instant, the blood-red figure closed the distance.

The Raven Marquess looked to be in his early forties, dressed in a regal crimson coat. His face bore a seven-tenths resemblance to Harn’s, but his presence was an entirely different beast.
First, his eyes swept over his barely-breathing son on the ground—then locked on Degrienne, crimson pupils boiling with killing intent.
“A mere pet dares—”

He paused mid-sentence, having noticed the two unconscious guards nearby. His face darkened further.
With a flick of his sleeve, an invisible force hurled them into a distant wall with a thunderous crash.
“Useless trash.”

The Marquess returned his attention to Degrienne, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists.
If not for the lifesaving charm on his son’s body... The thought made the bloodlust in his chest burn even hotter.
He was just about to rip that silver-haired brat to shreds when his gaze finally fixed on the maid blocking his path.

—A Marquess-tier aura.
The Marquess's fury hit a wall.
To have a Marquess-level warrior serve as a maid—what kind of power lay behind this “pet”?

Even more terrifying—what kind of master could force such a being to kneel as a servant? A Duke? A Prince?
“Little thing,” he growled, struggling to suppress the urge to kill, his voice as cold as forged iron, “who is your master?”
Degrienne peeked half her face out from behind Isabella’s shoulder and casually raised her middle finger.

“You—!”
His claws extended three inches in a blink—but then froze at Isabella’s calm response:
“Lady Catherine.”

The air solidified.
The name of the Crimson Queen poured over the Marquess like a bucket of ice water. In a blink, his seething rage evaporated into a cold sweat.
He stared at Degrienne—and especially at the silver collar locked around her neck—finally realizing what kind of iron wall his son had kicked.
A pause stretched.

Then, slowly, the Marquess’s expression eased. He took a long, deep breath. The red glow faded from his eyes. And in its place—a deliberately gentle smile crept onto his face.
He smoothed his disheveled collar, and with a ridiculous level of courtesy, as though the fury of moments ago had never existed, he said:
“A misunderstanding, then.”

He nodded politely to Isabella, voice suddenly mild—unrecognizably so. “My son was blind and rude. I sincerely apologize to you both.”
And then—shockingly—the mighty Raven Marquess bowed.
His dark red cloak swept the ground, kicking up dust as it brushed the cobblestones.

Gasps rippled through the crowd like wildfire.
“Well then, I’ll take this disgraceful fool home.”
Straightening, he smiled with impeccable poise. “Should you require anything while in Twilight City, feel free to—”

He turned to lift Harn’s barely-conscious body.
“You may leave,” Isabella’s voice rang out, utterly emotionless.
The Marquess froze mid-motion.

“But Harn must stay.”
The street froze with him.
He slowly turned, a flicker of suppressed fury flashing in his eyes. “…Is there something else?”

Isabella’s gaze didn’t waver. “Miss Degrienne wishes him executed.”
Degrienne turned to stare at her maid. She hadn’t expected this—this annoying woman, of all people, to stand up to a Marquess in her name?
Sure, someone like Harn used to be no more than sword practice back on Blue Star…

But here, he belonged to the upper nobility of vampire society.
Something stirred in Degrienne’s chest—like a feather brushing a place long frozen. A strange warmth.
Then the Marquess’s chilling voice snapped her out of it.
“What if I refuse?”

Only then did she notice how the man was staring at Harn, twitching fingers pulsing with violent intent.
Isabella didn’t answer right away. She simply closed her eyes—like she was resting.
Finally, the Marquess let out a heavy breath and unclenched his fists. With a disgusted grunt, he dropped Harn like a sack of filth.

“…Fine. I’ll honor Lady Catherine’s name.”
He turned on his heel, crimson cloak billowing behind him. His every step cracked the stone beneath, rage rolling off him in waves.
Isabella watched him vanish down the road, then reached down to unclip a small silver blade from the band around her thigh.

The knife arced beautifully through the air—
Squelch.
It stabbed straight into Harn’s heart. The once-arrogant youth didn’t even get the chance to scream—his body instantly deflated, drying into a pale husk.

“It’s done.” Isabella withdrew the knife and spoke with practiced calm.
Degrienne’s face flushed pink. Even the tips of her ears beneath her silver hair were burning.
That strange warmth in her chest surged again.

Then—she shook her head furiously.
No way! This woman helped drag me back to the castle!
Affection +1. Forgiveness still in the negatives!

Her eyes shifted to the humans and elves huddled in cages, brow furrowed. “What about them… Can we let them go?”
“No,” Isabella answered without hesitation.
Degrienne bristled. “Why not?!”

“They have nowhere to go. If they leave, they’ll just be captured by other bloodkin. Their fate will be worse.”
Degrienne stomped her foot in fury. Whatever little affection she’d mustered instantly evaporated.
Grinding her teeth, she snapped, “Then what? Let them stay as livestock?!”

Isabella paused. “They can be sold to bloodkin who aren’t perverse.”
“…Does Catherine count as perverse?”
“No.”

A long, black line crept across Degrienne’s face.
That old hag who pins me down and drinks my blood isn’t perverse?!*
What kind of messed-up moral scale did bloodkin even have?!

Eventually, she threw up her hands in exasperation. “Fine. Do what you want…”
Isabella nodded. Shadows bloomed under her feet, curling out like tendrils and wrapping around the slaves.
Before their terrified eyes could even react, darkness swallowed them whole.

“Stored temporarily,” she said. “I’ll deliver them to Veronica back at the castle.”
Degrienne looked around the now-empty street, a strange weight tightening in her chest.
She kicked Harn’s corpse. “At least I killed a piece of trash…”

They left the corner of the street.
The city noise gradually faded behind them.
Degrienne clutched a freshly bought venison steak sandwich, the meat juices dripping down the paper.

She glanced at Isabella walking silently beside her—and smirked maliciously.
“Oh no!”
Her hand slipped—sending piping-hot grease splattering across Isabella’s pristine white apron, leaving a large, dark stain.

Isabella looked down at the mess. Then back up at Degrienne’s obviously fake innocent face.
“…”
Degrienne braced herself—expecting a cold glare, maybe even a slap.

But Isabella simply reached into her sleeve and pulled out a handkerchief.
“You have sauce on your lips.”
Cool fingertips brushed against Degrienne’s mouth, wiping gently—delicately, as if cleaning a priceless jewel.

Degrienne froze.
Her ears flushed bright red.
What the hell is with this woman?! She’s not even mad?!

She slapped Isabella’s hand away. “D-Don’t give me that crap!”
Her voice cracked. Just a little.
Dawnlight peeked over the horizon.

The two returned to the castle.
Isabella bowed. “I’ll handle the blood slaves.”
Degrienne nodded distractedly. The moment that slender figure disappeared down the hall, she perked up her ears.

The entire castle was eerily quiet—not even the usual footsteps of maids.
Catherine’s not here!
She held her breath and crept toward the Forbidden Chamber.

The black door stood silently, unmoving.
Catherine… what are you hiding in here?
Don’t disappoint me…

Her fingertips brushed the door—
From inside, a low moan escaped.
“Mmh… haa…”

A woman’s voice. Pain and… something else. A trembling, seductive pitch that chilled the blood.
Every hair on Degrienne’s body stood on end. Her hand froze mid-push.
A dark red mist seeped from the door’s edges, thick with the scent of blood and roses.

Narrowing her eyes, she peered inside—
Suddenly—
A crimson tentacle burst from the blackness, snaring her wrist in an instant.

Before she could even scream, Degrienne was yanked violently into the dark.
The door slammed shut behind her with a deafening thud—cold and final.