Vampire Overlord's Harem In The Apocalypse-Chapter 68: Peace

Leo hesitated, glancing at Rita. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a fleeting moment where he considered taking advantage of the situation.

Simon was vulnerable, Bethany was distracted, and this could be their chance to escape.

But Rita’s worried expression stopped him. She wasn’t thinking about escape; she was thinking about Simon. Her hands trembled as she adjusted his head, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Leo sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Fine," he muttered, stepping out of the car.

Together, they carried Simon into the mansion.

The interior was just as dilapidated as the exterior, but it offered shelter. Bethany led them to a room on the ground floor, pushing open a door to reveal a sparse but clean space.

A single bed sat against the wall, its sheets slightly dusty but otherwise intact.

"Lay him down," Bethany instructed, lighting an old lamp on the bedside table.

Rita and Leo carefully lowered Simon onto the bed. His body remained limp, his breaths shallow but steady.

Bethany knelt beside him, her green fingers brushing against his face. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of worry and determination.

"What now?" Leo asked, crossing his arms. "He looks like he’s barely hanging on."

Bethany didn’t respond immediately. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small knife. Without hesitation, she made a shallow cut on her palm, the blade glinting in the dim light.

"What are you doing?" Rita asked, her voice tinged with alarm.

Bethany held her hand over Simon’s mouth, letting her blood drip onto his lips. The dark crimson liquid pooled against his pale skin before slipping past his parted lips. The change was immediate.

Simon’s body jolted as the blood hit his tongue.

The steam rising from his wounds intensified, and the torn flesh began to knit together at an accelerated pace. His shallow breathing deepened, and his fingers twitched as life seemed to return to his limbs.

Rita stared in shock. "How... how did you know that would work?"

Bethany didn’t look at her. "It’s not the first time."

Leo’s eyes narrowed. "You’ve done this before?"

Bethany’s gaze remained fixed on Simon. "He needs blood to heal. It’s part of his... abilities."

"And you just let him feed off you?" Leo asked, his tone incredulous.

Bethany’s expression hardened. "It’s not about letting him. It’s about survival. If Simon dies, we’re all screwed."

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hissing of steam as Simon’s wounds continued to mend. Rita watched in awe as the gashes on his arms and chest closed, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin.

The heat radiating from his body began to subside, and his breathing evened out.

Bethany sat back, cradling her injured hand. She wrapped a strip of cloth around the cut, tying it off with practiced ease. "He’ll wake up soon," she said quietly. "We just need to give him time."

Leo shook his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. "This is insane. We’re risking everything for him."

"He’s the reason we’re still alive," Bethany shot back, her voice sharp. "If you have a better plan, I’d love to hear it."

Leo opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself. He looked at Simon, his jaw tightening.

As much as he hated to admit it, Bethany was right. Simon’s strength had gotten them this far. Without him, their chances of survival would plummet.

Rita sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on Simon’s face. He looked peaceful now, his features relaxed as if he were merely sleeping.

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

"I hope you know what you’re doing," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Bethany stood, her posture rigid. "Get some rest," she said. "We’ll need to move again soon."

Leo leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "Yeah, sure. Because moving him in this state is such a great idea."

Bethany ignored him, her focus already shifting to the door. She needed to check the perimeter, ensure they weren’t followed.

The mansion might offer temporary shelter, but it wouldn’t keep them safe forever.

As she stepped into the hallway, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders. Simon’s recovery was crucial, but it wasn’t just about him. Their survival depended on staying one step ahead of the chaos that surrounded them.

And in this world, hesitation could be fatal.

#####

Bethany crouched behind the broken wall, her fingers tightly gripping the cold steel of her revolvers.

Her eyes scanned the shadows, heart pounding in her chest, as she listened for the sound of footsteps. They weren’t supposed to be here — yet she could feel the weight of their presence all around her.

They had followed them.

Her breath steadied, her pulse thudding in her ears. There was no room for mercy, not now. She had been through enough to know that in this world, there was no place for those who couldn’t be trusted. Betrayal had a cost.

She leaned forward, crouching lower, just enough to peek around the corner.

A small group of figures shuffled into view, their silhouettes barely visible in the dimness of the corridor.

Their faces were foreign to her. They had made their choice, and now they would face the consequences.

Bethany’s fingers twitched, and in an instant, her revolvers were raised, the cold barrels steady in her grip. She squeezed the trigger.

The first shot rang out, echoing off the stone walls. The first man dropped, a hole now in the center of his chest. His body slumped forward, face frozen in surprise.

The second man turned, eyes wide in terror, but it was already too late. Bethany’s second shot caught him in the throat.

He staggered backward, hands clutching at his neck, but he couldn’t stop the inevitable. He fell to the floor with a wet thud, blood pooling around him.

The third man — a lanky figure who hadn’t quite realized what was happening — was met with a sharp, precise shot to the knee, sending him sprawling.

His scream echoed in the hall as he tried to crawl, dragging himself toward the safety of the shadows.

Bethany didn’t hesitate. She closed the distance, her boots making a barely audible sound on the stone floor. With her guns still raised, she stepped over him, her expression cold.

"Die," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She fired once more, ending his struggle with a shot to the head.

The air was thick with the smell of blood and gunpowder. She stood still for a moment, listening. Nothing. The silence was almost worse than the screams.

She checked the bodies quickly, retrieving any valuables before slipping back into the shadows, moving with practiced ease.

There was no time to waste. The others would be expecting her soon.

Simon groaned as he slowly came to, his head throbbing in a dull, rhythmic pain.

He blinked his eyes open, trying to clear the fog in his mind. The room was dim, the barest light coming from a single candle on the nightstand.

He was still disoriented from the lingering effects of the previous day — the injuries, the exhaustion, the chaos of the raid.

But there was something different now. The sharp pain that had been clouding his thoughts was gone. His body felt... healed.

It wasn’t just the physical wounds; his energy was returning, his mind clearing. It had been a long road to recovery, but now he could think straight again. At least for the moment.

He sat up, slowly, testing his body’s limits. He winced as a small wave of dizziness hit him, but it passed quickly.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted his feet firmly on the floor. It was strange — he hadn’t realized how much he had taken his own body’s strength for granted before the injury.

Simon’s hand went to his head, rubbing at his temple. The wound was still tender, but nothing compared to the agony it had caused only a few hours ago.

He could feel the tightness in his skull, but it was bearable now. He was finally in control again. He flexed his fingers, almost surprised to feel them move without hesitation.

After a moment, he stood, his legs steady beneath him. His thoughts drifted back to the raid, to the mission. The plan had worked, at least in part.

Supplies had been gathered, their enemies dealt with. But there was always more. There was always another problem to solve, another step to take.

Simon walked over to the window, staring out at the hazy night sky. The stars were barely visible through the thick clouds. The world felt too quiet, too still. Too uncertain.

A knock at the door broke his thoughts.

"Yeah?" Simon called out, his voice hoarse.

The door creaked open, and Leo stepped inside, followed by Rita. Both of them looked tired but unharmed.

Leo was always the first to enter, moving with his usual cocky swagger, though there was a slight edge to his movements tonight.

Rita, on the other hand, was quieter, more controlled. She was always in the background, but Simon had learned over the weeks that it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

"How’s the head?" Rita asked, her voice softer than usual.

Simon’s gaze flickered to her. "It’s fine. Healed. I’ll be good to go."

"Glad to hear it," Leo added with a smirk, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. He wasn’t one to show concern easily. Not even for Simon, not like Rita did.

Simon turned his back to them, looking over the supplies that had been collected. He didn’t need to look at them to know they were both there, standing in silence.

They didn’t trust him completely, but that was nothing new.