The war settled into a stalemate.
After taking Târgu Secuiesc, the SFF couldn't push past Sfântu Gheorghe.
Marius lost ground.
We took some back.
Back and forth. Nothing decisive.
Then, a few days in, LaVey stopped playing it safe.
He committed everything to one desperate strike.
Târgu Mureș.
And Mureș wasn't Szekely.
It was different—an urban center layered with history. Austro-Hungarian buildings, ornate facades, the occasional Lutheran church, Hungarian neighborhoods, Romanian apartment blocks.
All of it mixed together.
I had friends in Târgu Mureș. The guy I'd had a rap band with, my old roommate from when I lived in Baia Mare. Another one I'd visited in Berlin.
Rap dreams, long forgotten, buried beneath the mold of my first life.
Now, I had to make sure it wouldn't fall to LaVey.
Great.
I came with the girls on Nelu's back, the city stretching out below us.
"It's… beautiful," Suzuka murmured softly, eyes scanning the streets. "Like seeing three cultures folded into one."
"Yeah, well. That's Transylvania for you," I said flatly.
Haruka was behind me, lazily resting her head against my back, clearly enjoying the ride.
I glanced down at the streets below. Vampires moved through the city, disguised as Romanian special units—silent, precise, almost too calm.
Oblivion forces spread out in response, their Satanic magic glowing bright, unnatural against the evening light.
I made my way to the town center, where Elmenhilde was already holding position, eyes scanning the streets with that ever-calculating precision.
She didn't call out—just lifted her hand slightly, pointing over directions like a master would call her slowest hound.
"Mihai," she said, voice cool and measured. "You are late.".
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I'm Transylvanian. We don't rush. Centuries of waiting around castles tends to do that," I replied drily.
She didn't react right away. Just watched me for a second, expression unreadable.
Then her gaze sharpened.
"If my expectations mean so little to you," she said, voice calm—too calm—"then perhaps you will find greater urgency when the casualties begin to accumulate."
A pause.
Her eyes didn't leave mine.
"Or does that only matter to you when you can play the hero?"
My face went flat.
"A normal person would call that 'people dying,' but sure," I said drily. "I get it. That's why you only count the casualties after the battle ends."
Haruka blinked once—then her lips curled, eyes lighting up with trouble. She leaned in toward Suzuka, bumping her shoulder lightly.
"…Are you hearing this?" she whispered, not even trying to hide her grin. "This is what two sociopaths sound like in the wild."
Suzuka let out a quiet laugh.
Elmenhilde blinked once at Haruka—slow, deliberate—then turned back to me, irritation sharpening her composure.
"Mihai," she said, voice low and edged, "inform your Yuki-onna that she is in no position to speak without inviting accusations of hypocrisy."
Haruka snorted immediately, shoulders shaking as she leaned into Suzuka.
"Did you hear that? 'Inform your Yuki-onna,'" she whispered, barely containing her grin. "I'm getting promoted to myth now."
Suzuka laughed softly beside her.
I pressed my lips together, barely holding it in.
"I'm glad you ladies are getting along… lol."
Yeah, we Romanians drop lol in casual speech. Fight me.
"Anyway. This will probably be LaVey's last strike. Then… we could push them back, is what I'd like to say, but…"
I let my gaze drift to the ground, voice flat.
"I've seen real warfare. Ukraine's counteroffensive stopped at Kherson and Kharkiv. Every other stronghold in Donbas? Heavily fortified by Russia."
The words hung in the air, heavy, and even the breeze felt quieter around us.
"You do realize you can convey your point without dragging in analogies from some timeline I am wholly unfamiliar with?," she asked, tilting her head, voice cool and measured.
Then, as if the interruption didn't happen, she continued, unbothered:
"Practically speaking, Oblivion could fortify the counties. Harghita, in its entirety, and half of Covasna—recapturing them would prove… prohibitively costly in the long term."
I nodded.
"That's if we let them dig in," I said. "Hit them right after Mureș, before they stabilize."
She hummed softly, considering.
"We are at war, Mihai. Every piece of land carries weight in war," she replied.
Yeah.
The thing is… we're still in Romania.
And Romania has a habit of trading land for survival.
All three girls looked at me at once.
…Right. So I said that out loud.
"We are vampires," Elmenhilde replied, voice cool, almost offended, "What you describe is a distinctly human pattern."
A faint pause, her chin lifting just slightly.
"We would never resort to something so… undignified."
I sure hope so.
The streets were contested. Oblivion swept through the Hungarian districts quickly, but the Romanian neighborhoods and the old center held firm.
"I think I'm gonna cut through their lines a bit," I said casually. "Suzuka, come with me. I'll need your wind for this."
Suzuka inclined her head slightly, a gentle smile touching her lips.
"Of course… if I can be of use, I'd be glad to help," she said softly.
Elmenhilde raised a brow, unimpressed.
"If this is yet another of your impulsive decisions," she said coolly, "you would do well to reconsider."
A faint pause, her gaze sharpening just slightly.
"…Though I suspect you will proceed regardless."
I did, summoning Nelu for aerial support.
Suzuka and I slipped into Cartierul Unirii, where Oblivion lines were pressing dangerously forward.
At my signal, Suzuka's wind burst through the area. The enemy barely flinched—LaVey clearly accounted for Frenchie's power—but I wasn't done.
I layered frost shards into the currents, sharp and rigid, turning the air into a frozen blizzard, slicing through their frontline like a knife cutting through bread.
Where their lines fell, the vampires advanced. But Oblivion's ability to wield dark magic in broad daylight was crushing them.
In the more contested districts, our progress barely kept pace.
"An adequate response, I suppose," Elmenhilde said, her gaze sweeping the battlefield behind me. "Though I expected more… precision from you all."
Haruka snorted, nudging Suzuka with a mischievous grin. "Okay, Elsa, dial it down before you accidentally freeze the whole country, alright?"
Suzuka let out a soft laugh, her eyes lighting up.
I raised a brow, dry as ever. "You're the actual Yuki-onna. How exactly does that make me Elsa?"
Haruka jabbed a finger at me like she'd just uncovered a crime.
"You're more dramatic than me!" she declared, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I blinked once, flat, unamused. "That's… debatable."
Suzuka let out a quiet, soft chuckle, shaking her head at the display, her tone almost French in its gentle amusement.
Elmenhilde's gaze snapped to both of us, sharp as obsidian. "You two," she said, voice cutting, aristocratic and cold, "are entirely unfit for anything resembling strategy. Truly, the only thing you would excel at is buffoonery."
Haruka grinned, unbothered. "Ooh, I like that! I'll take it as a compliment!"
I just pressed my lips together, letting her enthusiasm hang in the air, dry as dust. "Yeah, congratulations. You've elevated chaos to an art form."
Suzuka's laugh was soft, melodic, almost conspiratorial. "Perhaps… chaos suits you both," she murmured.
Elmenhilde's brow arched imperiously, clearly weighing whether to scold us further or let the folly slide for now.
I coughed. "Anyway, we can do so much as keep holding them off until it gets dark."
And so we did. Elmenhilde's dolphins carved the streets clear of any Oblivion advance.
My aerial control left them no space to regroup.
Archers on the apartment blocks tried to pin me and Nelu down, but we dodged with ease.
Haruka froze entire streets, while Suzuka layered in blizzards.
The fight was grinding into a battle of attrition.
Then, darkness fell.
The vampires, bloodied but far from broken, finally cast aside their restraint.
Dark mist spilled into the streets, swallowing everything in its wake as they moved with chilling precision—no longer scattered predators, but a single, coordinated force carving through Oblivion's lines.
Fangs sank into flesh. Power was drained, stolen, devoured.
Elmenhilde and I answered in kind, diving into the chaos, while Suzuka and Haruka unleashed a synchronized storm—ice and fire intertwining into a devastating blizzard that tore entire formations apart.
Around us, the vampires began chanting dark spells, their magic swelling unnaturally—amplified by the artificial aura borrowed from Oblivion's modified soldiers.
The tide was turning.
Then, just as suddenly, the Oblivion soldiers vanished—teleportation crystals crumbling into dust as they withdrew, leaving only silence in their wake.
And a city that bore the cost.
Shattered blocks. Severed facades. Smoke coiling lazily through the streets, clinging to the ruins like a stubborn ghost.
Before long, Queen Carmilla stood before us. Her crimson gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in everything in a single, measured glance.
"It would be remiss of me not to acknowledge your efforts in defending the city," she said, her tone refined, carrying that subtle aristocratic edge rather than open praise.
"You have preserved what could be preserved. Elmenhilde… Mihai… and your companions."
A brief pause followed—not hesitation, but deliberation. She chose her next words carefully, as if weighing their impact.
"We have received word from LaVey."
Then, without fanfare, she dropped the bombshell—calmly, but with unmistakable gravity.
"He proposes a ceasefire."
I have a bad feeling about this.
(scene break)
We gathered somewhere near Graz. LaVey chose Austria as neutral ground—neither Romanian nor Hungarian.
I half-expected a peace treaty version of the Red Wedding, but, to his credit, the lunatic showed just enough restraint not to station troops around the meeting site.
Color me surprised.
King Tepes and Queen Carmilla led the delegation, Marius and Elmenhilde just behind them. Tepes lords and Carmilla noblewomen followed in orderly lines, like this was some royal procession instead of a war council.
For safety, I insisted Haruka and Suzuka stay in Bucharest. No reason for them to witness this circus of a "peace treaty."
At first, they objected. But after I laid out my reasoning, they relented, offering their good-luck wishes with teasing smirks.
The palace doors swung open. Marble halls, polished to the point of reflection. Gold accents, chandeliers, the whole display of power.
The vampires looked at home.
I didn't care.
LaVey was already waiting, seated with his people. Oblivion operatives lined the room—dark uniforms, sharp cuts, insignias stamped with Greater Hungary. They looked like every secret police force history tried to forget.
"Good evening," LaVey said smoothly, his tone almost pleasant. "Children of the night, heirs to a dying order."
A faint smile.
"Let us not waste time. My terms are simple."
He leaned back slightly.
"You will renounce any claim to the territories liberated by the Székely Republic in the war."
He paused, looking at me with that calculated smirk, then his gaze shifted back to the representatives, eyes gleaming with the quiet fire of irredentist conviction.
"And you will compel the human government from Bucharest to do the same. Hungary's blood and soil demand no less."
Tepes rose first, indignation across his features.
"Last time I placed my trust in Hungarians," he said, voice low, carrying weight, "I was imprisoned. Left to rot in darkness for over a decade."
His eyes locked onto LaVey—sharp, ancient, violent.
"Why should I now place faith in a man who cloaks ambition in nationalism, and seeks to build his dominion on blood and deception?"
Yeah. That wasn't just King Tepes speaking.
That was Vlad the Impaler, still alive somewhere under the crown.
A complicated person. It made him resentful enough to want to live, and tired enough to want to die.
Carmilla rose with elegance, smoothing her black dress like it totally needed smoothing.
"I do not share Prince Vlad's sentiment," she said coolly.
Her voice cut clean through the room.
"Romania—human or otherwise—has no claim to Szeklerburg or Szekler Neumarkt. They are relics of the old Székely seats. Hungarian by origin."
Her gaze shifted to LaVey, sharp and unwavering.
"However…"
A faint smile.
"Transylvania belongs to vampires. It always has. We are bound to this land."
A pause.
"And the humans who inhabit it are Romanian."
Her eyes hardened.
"We will not permit an external power to claim dominion over it."
Yeah.
Carmilla embodied everything wrong with this place.
I tried to suppress my anger.
You claim superiority over Romanian humans, yet your survival tactics are identical.
Vampires could've restored the Székely lands. Instead, Carmilla wanted to let them go because she prioritized her supremacy over all vamps.
And that was a major miscalculation.
Because even before taking over Hungary, LaVey has now around 400 thousand people at his disposal from these lands.
People he could turn into devils, experiment on for the sake of his army.
How long until your stupidity catches up to you?
Vlad rose in anger.
"We agreed to a ceasefire to confront a common enemy," he said. "What you propose undermines that entirely."
Carmilla just smirked.
"This war is not ours," she replied calmly. "If the fledgling had not involved himself in Csíkszereda, it would have remained a localized conflict."
She sold me out. Of course she did.
The Tepes lords rose indignantly.
"Yes! What Carmilla says it's true!"
"Why should we sacrifice our ranks for a former human?"
"He's not even a pureblood."
Marius stepped forward, voice smooth with just enough poison.
"My lord father has always shown… sympathy toward outsiders," he said. "Though one might say that is only natural, given certain… rumors regarding his origin."
I narrowed my eyes.
Right. We're doing this now.
"The next vampire who feels strongly about my origin," I said flatly, "can test that opinion against a missile strike."
Silence.
Then I moved. Fast.
One of the louder lords didn't even react before I had him by the collar, lifting him off the ground.
"Are we clear?"
Elmenhilde appeared behind me instantly.
"Mihai," she said, voice sharp, controlled. "Cease this at once. You disgrace yourself."
I clicked my tongue and dropped him.
He straightened his clothes, glaring at me with open disgust.
"You will never be one of us," he hissed.
Good.
Didn't plan to be.
I lifted my middle finger. His mouth opened, as if to argue… then froze. The moment our eyes met, whatever fire he had softened under my killing intent, leaving him as docile as a lamb.
Across the room, LaVey watched the whole thing like it was theater.
Relaxed. Amused.
Then Tepes' voice cut through the noise.
"Enough."
The room froze.
"Blaming a foreign boy with a Romanian soul," he continued, voice steady but heavy, "is neither just nor worthy of this assembly."
A pause. His shoulders lowered slightly.
Fatigue creeping in.
"But…"
His gaze shifted across his own faction.
"If this is the will of my people… Then I will not oppose it."
And just like that—Vlad found himself boxed in.
Cornered by his own side.
"…I consent to the terms."
Yeah.
Well played.
LaVey clasped his hands, pleased, his tone smooth with nationalist triumph.
"Well done. Then we have an agreement. Greater Hungary thanks you for your… pragmatism."
I left the place, not even bothering to look back.
Whatever happens next is not my problem.
And just as I left, Count Szilárd appeared before me.
"You've watched the whole circus?" I asked, raising a brow.
His expression became more sympathetic—whether genuine or not, I couldn't tell.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Romanian vampires are rather… proud of their pureblood origins. We of the Order of Pannonia once shared those beliefs."
A pause.
"Until the humans and the werewolves decimated us. Old blood, noble blood, came second to survival… If the Romanian factions reject you, Mihaly, you will always have a place at our court. Reincarnated vampires are… far more numerous among us, after all."
I considered for a bit.
"We have a common enemy, Count Szilárd. One we must stop from taking over Hungary," I said. "I ally myself with those who understand the threat we face."
Szilárd chuckled, low and weary, the amusement of a vampire who's already seen one world end and another begin.
"Yes. What Carmilla and Tepes did today is a betrayal to our very race. I trust one day this shameful deal will prove to be their undoing."
It will, in time. They've no idea what ticking time bomb they triggered.
And the best part? Next time I will let it blow up on them.
And then, Vlad and Carmilla emerged from the shadows, stepping into the open with the effortless grace of predators. Marius and Elmenhilde followed, each moving with that cold, measured authority that made every footfall feel like a command.
Carmilla's gaze settled on me, sharp, imperious.
"I trust you comprehend, Mihai," she said, voice smooth, aristocratic, "that my earlier actions were dictated solely by necessity. Peace, once more, demands sacrifices."
Oh, right. Selling me out, all in the name of peace. Cute.
"Perhaps because you've never had to survive," Count Szilárd interjected, his posture rigid, every syllable dipped in that distinctly Hungarian aristocratic disdain.
"Now, with LaVey at the heart of your territory, survival will no longer be theoretical. Consider this a courtesy… from a pureblood who has long learned that old loyalties mean nothing when life itself is at stake."
Carmilla's lips curved in the faintest hint of a smile—not warm, not friendly, just… precise.
"Mihai," she said, voice smooth, deliberate, each word a dagger wrapped in silk, "Count Szilárd speaks truth, even if he dresses it in the trappings of old pride. Survival is not a courtesy. It is expectation."
She let her gaze drift over me, unblinking, calm.
"But do not confuse necessity with betrayal. What I do… I do for the stability of all our realms, not to punish you. You may call it betrayal. I call it… pragmatic foresight."
Her hands, perfectly still, adjusted her dress again—just enough for presence, not need.
"Learn to see beyond your instincts, Mihai. Power does not wait for sentiment."
Tepes frowned, eyes narrowing with the kind of cold precision that could cut stone. Almost as flat, almost as measured, as mine.
"The compromise you forced, Princess Anna," he said, voice even but heavy with ice, "does not merely reflect poorly on us. It signals… a willingness to trade ancestral land for a crown."
A slow sigh followed, the kind that carried generations of disappointment.
"Perhaps all those calls for unity were… in vain."
Carmilla's brow arched, her gaze icy and unwavering.
"Your era, Prince Vlad, has long since passed—the dominion of Wallachia's old rulers belongs to history. It is through a Germanic, matrilineal line that vampires will shape their future," she said, her voice calm, deliberate, proud.
Then, with a faint tilt of her head and a sharper edge:
"Just as the House of Hohenzollern has guided Romania forward. A feat your ancestors could not accomplish, as their human line faded into oblivion."
Classic Carmilla. She's willing to weaponize Romania's human history while she could give less of a fuck about it.
"All I've been hearing ever since I got back here is blood purity this, vampires should be ruled like that," I said, throwing my hands up, fed up.
"But I've also seen vampires acting like they're above Romanians—peasants who handed over their own territories. Maybe the land itself is so baked into the psyche of everyone who lives on it that even the vampires start ceding it 'for survival.'"
Marius chuckled, low and almost amused, but there was steel beneath it.
"Do not confuse the outdated inclinations of old rulers with inherent qualities of our kind, gardener," he said, voice cool and precise, the faintest edge of contempt woven through it.
"That is a symptom of how obsolete a wallflower like a Wallachian prince and a German matriarch have become. Vampires require a firm hand — discipline, authority, and resolve."
His eyes locked onto mine, unflinching.
"With me in command, that land would be reclaimed not in weeks, not in days… but in hours."
Elmenhilde's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile, her eyes never leaving Marius.
"It is… amusing," she said softly, the word dripping with measured contempt, "that you speak of reclamation and loyalty when, of all of us, you are the one teetering closest to betraying the entire line for LaVey."
Her tone was a whisper, but every syllable carried the weight of centuries of expectation and authority.
I mentally tuned out their bickering, the endless clash of crowns and bloodlines.
Everyone wants to rule.
None of you are fit.
So here's the plan. When your little war burns out and the vacuum you leave behind stings too much… I'll step in.
I'll take Romania.
And I'll fix everything that's broken. Not for glory, not for power… but because someone has to.
And if no one else will… then it's me.