Supreme Vampire In Black Clover

The moment the doors shut behind him, the air shifted.

The weight of six watchful gazes was gone, but something colder pressed in—a quiet tension, heavier than before.

Ahead of him, Eislyn stood motionless, waiting.

She didn't speak. She didn't move. She simply watched, her piercing blue eyes unreadable. There was no hostility in her gaze, yet neither was there warmth. It was something else entirely—detachment. The kind of emptiness that only someone well-acquainted with death could possess.

The flickering torchlight barely seemed to touch her. Shadows clung unnaturally to the edges of her cloak, shifting in ways that defied logic, as if they obeyed her before the wind itself. which left Derek thinking if she had the power of shadows too.

A silent executioner.

"Follow me." Her voice was quiet, yet it cut through the stillness with effortless precision.

Derek's brow twitched at the command, but he said nothing. He exhaled and fell into step beside her, matching her measured pace as they left the castle halls.

He had questions. Too many.

About the witches. About their village. About why they had chosen to accept him so soon after testing him.

But something about the woman beside him made him reconsider wasting words.

For now, he would watch. Listen. See how things played out.

They moved swiftly, covering miles in minutes with unnatural speed. Derek had expected her to question how he was able to keep up, because he knew that they aren't like him , They don't have inhuman physical abilities , yet she remained silent. But he noticed the occasional glance she shot his way—brief, calculating.

She's analyzing me, he realized. Just as they all are.

Then, abruptly, Eislyn stopped.

Derek slowed to a halt beside her, glancing around. They were just outside the village, the faint glow of lanterns visible through the trees ahead.

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "You need to put something on."

He blinked. "What?"

She gestured toward his bare torso, then pulled a neatly folded dark-blue outfit from her bag . "Wear this."

Derek eyed the fabric, then arched a brow. "So, you do have Witcher corps," he said dryly. "Didn't see any inside."

Eislyn didn't react to his sarcasm. "It was made specifically for you."

Something about the way she said it made him pause. He took the outfit from her hands, inspecting it briefly. The material was high-quality—light, durable, and reinforced at key points. It wasn't just clothing. It was armor.

As he pulled it on, adjusting the fit, Eislyn spoke again. "I am to be your guide and escort for the duration of your stay here."

Derek fastened the last strap, giving her a sidelong glance. "So… you're my babysitter."

Eislyn frowned slightly. "What's that?"

"Never mind," he muttered, rolling his shoulders to test the outfit's flexibility.

It fit well. Too well. Almost like it had been tailored specifically to his measurements.

He pushed the thought aside as Eislyn continued, her voice even. "I am also tasked with assisting you in whatever you require—whether it be common knowledge, history, or training. Due to your… memory loss."

Derek stilled, considering her words carefully.

That was more generous than he had expected. Far more.

Either they truly wanted him to adapt, or this was another way of keeping him under their watch.

His fingers flexed absently at his sides. He wasn't sure of their true intentions yet, but for now, one thing was clear.

"I don't know what your people really want from me," he admitted, looking ahead toward the village. "But if you're offering answers, I won't refuse."

Eislyn gave a small nod. "Then let's processed."

And with that, they stepped forward—into the heart of the witches' domain.

Emerging from the dense treeline, Derek found himself on the threshold of the witches' village, where the mist thickened like a living veil, parting only as he moved. The village, now fully visible in the early light, looked even more otherworldly than it had the night before. The buildings, crafted from dark stone and ancient wood, twisted and curved unnaturally, as if they had grown from the very land itself rather than being constructed. Glowing runes pulsed faintly on the walls, shifting in color and shape, their magic alive.

Eislyn stood ahead, arms crossed, her presence as still and cold as the mist curling around her boots.

" welcome to our village. " she said , her voice devoid of emotion.

Derek took a moment to absorb it all, his curiosity momentarily overtaking his wariness . " this is beautiful unlike anything I have ever seen " he said . "what is this place ".

A flicker of amusement—or something close to it—passed through Eislyn's icy gaze. " I'm glad you liked it because you will be getting a house not far from here"

Derek huffed a dry laugh, falling into step beside her as she turned and began walking.

The village was alive, but in a way unlike any place he had ever seen. There was no morning rush, no idle chatter of merchants or workers hurrying to their daily tasks. Instead, the witches moved with quiet purpose. Some carried glowing tomes, others whispered incantations under their breath as they walked. A few simply watched him—expressions ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled hostility.

He wasn't welcome here.

Not truly.

But they were willing to tolerate him. For now.

As they walked deeper into the heart of the village, Derek took note of the strange flora growing along the pathways—trees with bark that shimmered like metal, vines that twisted and moved of their own accord. The air itself hummed with energy, making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

"What's with the mist?" Derek asked, glancing at the ever-present veil that clung to the village. It wasn't natural—the way it moved, how it thickened in some areas and dispersed in others, like it was alive.

"It's a protective ward," Eislyn said. "It keeps unwanted eyes away."

"And what does it do to those who try to enter uninvited?"

Eislyn tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "They don't leave."

Derek nodded slowly. "Figures."

As they turned a corner, the ground beneath them briefly pulsed with a faint golden light. Derek's enhanced senses picked up the shift instantly, feeling the ripple of magic beneath his feet. He stopped, glancing down at the cobbled path. "What was that?"

"A boundary marker," Eislyn said. "They track movement. The village is a living entity, in a sense. It remembers footsteps, recognizes its own, and watches those who don't belong."

Derek frowned. "Creepy."

"You get used to it."

"Right. Like how you get used to a knife at your throat."

Eislyn didn't respond to that, but Derek caught the briefest hint of a smirk before she continued walking.

They reached the village's central square—if it could even be called that. It was more of an open space where several paths converged, surrounded by towering structures, each one exuding an aura of ancient power. At the very center, a massive stone obelisk stood, covered in spiraling runes that flickered between gold and deep crimson.

Derek slowed his pace, drawn to the monument. The air around it was heavier, denser, as if the very space it occupied resisted intrusion.

"This is the heart of the village," Eislyn said, watching his reaction closely. "Every spell, every enchantment woven into this land, is anchored here."

Derek crossed his arms. "So if I wanted to cause trouble, this would be the place to hit?"

Eislyn's gaze turned sharp, warning. "If you wanted to die, yes."

Derek smirked but said nothing, turning his attention back to the obelisk. His fingers itched with a strange sensation—a pull, almost imperceptible, like something deep within him recognized the energy here.

The moment passed.

Eislyn didn't give him time to linger. "Come. There's more to see."

Derek exhaled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark cloak as he followed her. His mind turned over everything he had seen so far, every detail he had absorbed. This village wasn't just a refuge—it was a fortress. A living, breathing stronghold of magic and secrecy.

And he was standing right in the middle of it.

For better or worse.

And then, at that exact moment, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.

A translucent screen flickered to life before his eyes.

[System Alert: Your stats will be halved while under direct sunlight.]

[System Alert: Find shelter immediately.]