My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Exchanging Information

Irene didn’t return that evening, nor did she arrive at all the next morning.

Something major must have happened, something really bad. But what that something was, I didn’t know… I couldn’t know. Despite the motel existing in the technological era of the 21st century, the internet service was downright atrocious.

Nothing would load, nothing would play. My cellphone lacked any service as well. Can’t check the news… can’t go to the internet. I was blind to any happenings that might have occurred, left confined to a bedroom, resigned to just simply sitting idly by… waiting. As always.

So I did the only thing I was still able to do, I continued playing.

After Leonardo’s close brush with death, Ash… I mean, Eshwlyn went ahead and laid waste to what was left of the village, leaving Leonardo unconscious on the ground but alive.

Thus ends the prologue chapter of Chronicles Of Asteria.

The real game only truly started after Leonardo had awoken to the care of some kind and benevolent passersby. From there you are left to your own devices, stranded in the middle of nowhere with no objective to strive for other than from the one you originally started out with.

Stop Terestra.

.....

How are you supposed to do that? Game says it’s up to you.

You build your own team, you discover their stories, you explore the world. Do everything you can before Asteria is plunged into disaster.

From dusk till dawn that was all I have been doing. Grinding, farming, surviving. By the time the clock struck 9 in the morning, I had already leveled up a considerable amount, recruited 2 brand new party members – a mage and a paladin – yet my main progress through the story had grinded to a halt.

Asteria was divided into 6 different regions. Each region was ruled and dominated by a loyal servant of Terestra. So 6 places to save and 6 servants to kill, each progressively stronger than the last.

So far I haven’t even managed to free one yet. The servants were just that powerful. Or maybe I just sucked that bad. Yeah, I probably just suck at the game. So I was stuck, for the time being, gaining no new info, and losing precious time in reality.

Didn’t learn anything more about Eshwlyn besides that initial encounter either, nor did I learn much else about the Matriarch, besides a small codex entry and a small story about a Matriarch called Amelia from a party member, even then, it was information I already knew… Ash already told me.

Salt is a repellant, illusion incantations to hide yourself from them, they steer away from tainted blood and feast exclusively on virgins.

Killing them is downright impossible.

Nothing new, except a peculiar question that struck me over a quick breakfast session at the motel’s dining area.

If Ash’s blood is tainted… Then why did the Matriarch choose her over me to be her eighth victim, despite me being a true bonafide virgin? Going by what’s been established, I should have been the one taken instead, so why wasn’t it me?

Fortunately, I wasn’t left wondering about this alone. Afternoon came with Irene’s arrival at my doorstep, barging in the room like she owned the place, and settling onto the armchair by the side.

“You’re late,” I said, looking over at her from the bed, the laptop on my lap.

“You’re tired,” she replied, resting her face on her arm. “Didn’t sleep?”

“How can I?”

Irene shrugged her shoulders.

“So what happened to you?” I asked. “You’re a whole 18 hours late from when we’re supposed to meet.”

“Later,” she waved her hand away. “What have you got for me? What have you learned?”

“Ash is a virgin.”

There I was, over 24 hours since a good night’s rest, barely running on fumes. Could I have worded that differently? Perhaps. But then that would require spending some more brainpower thinking of words… brain power I did not have.

Thankfully, aside from being a little taken aback, Irene barely even reacted. Deep down though, I knew. I’m an itty bitty pervert man now. Guess I better start explaining before she puts me on a sexual offenders list.

“Okay, and you’re telling me this…?” Irene urged.

“The ritual Ash did in my apartment using her blood, well clearly it didn’t work. The only reason why it ended up failing was because she was actually a virgin. For some reason she thought her blood was impure so she spread it around, not realizing that what she ended accomplishing instead was making the entire apartment a big, red bullseye for a Matriarch.”

“The Elf’s a virgin, alright. Anything else?”

There it was again, the sharp piercing twinge of guilt. Only thing missing now was the feeling of uselessness… and there it was, right on time. I just can’t bear the stare Irene gave me, like she was actually expecting something out of me.

Rightfully so too, I’ve been playing for a day straight. I gotta have something, right?

“That’s it,” I told her, feeling absolutely furious with myself.

“Oh.”

As expected, that ‘oh’ was laced with disappointment. There was this awkwardness in the air now, which was swiftly shattered once Irene decided to change the subject.

“There wasn’t a ninth victim last night,” she said.

That got me perking up, flushing away the guilt in my system, and filling it with surprise.

“That’s good, right?” I said.

“That’s bad.”

Surprised turned to confusion. “How so?” ????n????????ea????. ????????????

Now she had my undivided attention, both eyes on her with Asteria left on pause. That’s when I realized a couple of glaring things. Like that cut on her shoulder, the rip on her pants… and the dried-out blood smeared on her forehead with her eyes glowing a bright red just right below.

Immediately I flung my laptop to the side and made a beeline towards her direction, saying breathlessly as I did, “Did you attack someone?”

“Technically, I defended. She attacked,” Irene stared at me grimly. “I was supposed to be the ninth victim.”

I had a closer look at her wounds, they weren’t too bad. Still, a wound is a wound, and the habit of keeping medical aid in close proximity was battered into my head thanks to mom, so I headed for my duffel bag, where I kept a kit.

“And you escaped? You weren’t zombified or anything? How did you manage that?” I asked, rummaging through my stuff.

“Oh, you know… a punch here, a kick there. I had her on the ropes, actually.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, she nearly got me. The only reason I’m still here now was because of sheer luck. Since I know now what we’re dealing with here, I took some precautions of my own, and lucky for me, they paid off.”

“The only thing I took from that was the fact that you were attacked, and if you were attacked that means you’re a – ”

“Yeah, I’m a virgin,” Irene said, shrugging her shoulders again. “That really much of a surprise?”

“I’ve just never really heard of a virgin succubus before is all.”

She scoffed at me. “Please, you’ve never heard of a succubus at all until yesterday.”

“Fair point,” I said, crouching down before her, medkit in hand. “So why is this a bad thing? You’ve escaped her, didn’t you?”

When she didn’t answer, I looked up at her to find that she was staring at me with a confused sort of expression.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

I held the medkit up a little higher so that she could see. “Patching you up, why?”

“You’re going to have to touch me for that, you know?”

“Yeah, I know... and?”

Without another word, Irene slowly stretched her hand out over to me and I began treating it silently while listening to her speak.

“I had a good look at her last night. The Matriarch does not look her best at all. Probably another reason why I didn’t get zombified as well. She’s starved, she’s feeble… that makes her dangerous.”

There was a small hiss of pain as I poured disinfectant over a wound, but she continued on, wincing.

“Matriarchs drink virgin blood, they fill them but they don’t satisfy them. Not until they find the right blood type, the longer they go without it, the more unhinged they become. They get weaker but they get more aggressive, take more risks. I wouldn’t be surprised if the abduction count goes from one victim a night to two.”

“So that means we need to stop her as soon as possible then,” I said, wiping the blood from her forehead.

“I’m afraid we’ve already run out of time,” Irene’s eyes changed back to their usual black, and from within I saw a hint of fear. “I denied her meal last night. She’s frenzied.”

“What does that mean?”

Irene shook her head. “I don’t know about Asteria, but in Kronocia, a frenzied, starved vampire doesn’t just feast anymore… they kill – not just once a night, not just twice – they will continue killing until their urges are satisfied. Tonight, we will undergo a massacre the likes of which have never been seen before in this city.”

Midway through patching up her wrist, Irene took a hold of my arm, her face close enough that my face reflected back in her pupils and I saw myself there. I saw, harboring beneath the restraint arousal and perversion – I saw myself scared.

“Forget the game for now,” she whispered. “I need your help to stop this thing. You won’t be out of danger, you’ll be putting yourself at risk and I might not be able to save you, you might die too… still, can I count on you for this?”

I look at her… her bandaged injured self, pleading with an expression that had gone soft. Then I thought of Ash… Eshwlyn, whichever her true self really was, and there was no hesitation.

“Yes.”