After successfully "liberating" the five Servants from the Throne of Heroes, the Command Seals on Dracula and Kirie's hands had basically lost their utility. With the sheer magic resistance of Heroic Spirits, Command Seals—being a human-made system—were practically useless.
Besides, Dracula didn't need to rely on Command Seals at all. With his magical power, it would be trivially easy to control the Servants or even a Heroic Spirit into obeying his every whim.
But he didn't do that. Firstly, because he'd spent a lifetime suffering under others' control—he could be ruthless toward dark beasts, sure, but when it came to these Heroic Spirits, he still had some shred of decency. And secondly… he just couldn't be bothered to give them orders.
Jeanne had also fully released the possession state. As for the young French girl who had been "descended into," Jeanne thought it best she not remain here. So, after offering a blessing, she asked Dracula to send the girl back home.
Speaking of which, this holy maiden was clearly a village girl through and through. When Dracula had read her handwritten note—one where she'd even thrown in a cute little chibi drawing—he'd thought she might be well-educated. Turned out, that flair came from accessing the memories of the girl she'd possessed—Leticia. Jeanne herself admitted she couldn't even read a math textbook in that state.
Truly, a tragedy for the French people.
"Do whatever you want," Dracula said lazily. "As long as it doesn't disrupt the world's general order. For others, this is a war. For us? Just a game. Let them fight amongst themselves until the Holy Grail appears—I'll clean it up when the time comes."
The Heroic Spirits, of course, were delighted with this.
Especially Mordred.
Mordred clenched her fists and asked eagerly, "Dracula-san, can I join the fight too?"
"Sure. Do whatever you like," Dracula replied, "Just don't mess up the ritual too badly."
"Yosh!" Mordred exclaimed in excitement. "I heard she's participating too. Just wait till I knock her teeth in! Hmph, my Radiant, Resplendent Sword of Clarent is itching for battle!"
"Indeed. I shall also support this child," Nero nodded solemnly. "I'd like to see what kind of king this so-called counterpart of mine is, the one who wears my face!"
From his slouched position in the chair, Dracula watched these two identical-faced girls getting all fired up about confronting a third person who looked exactly like them. To him, Mordred was just a kid pulling a prank to prove something to the adults—though, admittedly, her pranks might go a bit overboard. As for Nero? She was clearly just joining in for fun, stirring the pot for her own amusement.
Perhaps because she shared a face that resembled Mordred's father, Nero quickly earned the young knight's favor. They even chatted about the usually taboo subject of her father, and Mordred wasn't angry in the slightest.
Dracula couldn't help thinking: That poor Artoria—never even met her, but damn. First, her friend steals her wife. Now it looks like her daughter's about to call someone else "Dad."
Just then, he noticed Jeanne standing off to the side, hesitant.
With a sigh, Dracula called out, "Miss Jeanne."
"Ah! Dracula-san, do you need something?" Jeanne snapped out of her daze, forcing a smile.
"Is the fact that Kirie and I are vampires really that difficult for you to accept?" he asked.
"N-No, not at all!" Jeanne waved her hands frantically in denial.
"You don't need to hide it. Just say what's on your mind," Dracula said, still sounding utterly drained of energy. "I'm telling you this now so we don't have problems later."
"I'll spell it out: Kirie and I are vampires. I don't know if she's harmed any normal humans before—but me? I've definitely killed plenty, directly or indirectly."
"I've started wars for revenge. Killed humans, monsters, demons, angels… Even the god you worship in your world—I've killed him too."
"W-Wait, Dracula-san, what do you mean you killed God?!"
The shock on Jeanne's face was palpable.
"I stopped killing only because there was no one left I wanted to kill," Dracula continued, ignoring the stunned saint. "That's the kind of vampire I am. And Kirie—she was turned by a vampire. A victim, really. If you can't accept that, you're free to leave. I won't stop you."
Truthfully, Jeanne hadn't suspected anything. Kirie acted so human—she ate the same food, sometimes even went out for a walk in the sun. And Dracula? He was even less vampire-like.
What kind of vampire, after all, needed to be forcibly dragged out of bed like a whining caterpillar at noon, still cocooned in blankets?
After standing silently for nearly half an hour, Jeanne finally spoke.
"…I'm sorry, Dracula-san, but I don't think I can leave. Not yet."
She continued: "The Lord has granted me freedom, and with that freedom, I must fulfill my final duty. In this Holy Grail War, I will stand by your side—if you'll allow it."
"Doesn't matter to me," Dracula waved lazily. "Do whatever you want."
"I appreciate it," Jeanne replied. "As for your and Kirie's true nature… I've only known you for half a day. I can't judge so easily. So I'll observe. If I find you to be kind-hearted vampires, then I'd be happy to be your friend—and even renew our contract. But… if you truly are as evil as you say, then I'm sorry. I'll risk everything to stand against you—even without the Throne behind me."
"Oh, the resolve of a saint, huh?" Dracula muttered while picking his teeth. "Go wild. You won't beat me anyway."
His deadpan honesty left the girls around him torn between laughter and tears.
"Well, that blunt honesty of yours is… charming in its own way," Kiyohime smiled awkwardly. "But too much bluntness can turn girls off, you know?"
"Then, please form a contract with me," Jeanne said, holding out her hand.
Dracula took her soft hand in his, no incantation needed. He simply channeled his vast, bottomless magic, and the contract was sealed instantly.
"Now then," Jeanne said, turning serious again. "There's one more important matter to address."
"What now?" Dracula asked, confused.
"…Do you have anything to eat?" Jeanne said with a straight face. "I'm starving."
In the dining hall of Castlevania, Dracula watched in dismay as Jeanne and Mordred devoured food like a pair of ravenous beasts.
"This is too much," he muttered. "It's the first time I've eaten two dinners in one day…"
Everyone else at the table ate lightly. Kiyohime and Elizabeth combined barely ate a normal person's portion. Even Kirie only finished about seventy percent of a normal meal.
But to Dracula's surprise, Nero—of all people—ate like a proper lady, consuming a modest, human-sized portion. After watching Jeanne and Mordred go to town, Nero's restraint now looked… oddly out of place.
"What's the matter, Lord Dracula? Why are you staring at me?" Nero asked, elegantly dabbing her mouth with a napkin. Her Spirit Form let her change outfits freely, and she remained dressed in what looked like a wedding gown.
"No, it's nothing…" Dracula said cautiously. "Nero, aren't you going to eat more?"
"Why should I? I'm already full. Anything more would be wasteful." Nero said, finishing her napkin pat. "Instead, Lord Dracula, give me gold. Lots of gold. Surely this era has beautiful clothes and delightful novelties! I must go shopping. And yes, I shall pick out outfits for Little Mo too."
"Oh, there's gold in Castlevania's vault. Take however much you want," Dracula replied. "Kiyohime, Elizabeth—you two as well. Go buy some clothes that fit this era."
He figured Nero really had adopted a motherly role toward Mordred—thinking for her without even realizing it.
"By the way, I have a question," Dracula said, adopting a mock-serious commander's tone. "I want to kill someone. And save someone. But I don't want to go out. What should I do?"