118

While there are several possible views on the true nature of Servants, whether they are just spirits taking on an imprint of human legends, or are they really the legends themselves walking the Earth again their power is not a matter of debate. No Magi would be insane enough to think that their capabilities are in any way comparable to a Servant. While the truth of the matter is only known to very few very insular Magi families, and the Wizard Marshall, but nobody is crazy enough to ask, few magi would argue that Servants are not in a certain way legendary, with abilities and stature in accordance to their vaunted position.

And yet, when they would be asked to describe a battle between two Servants, few of even the most imaginative magi would be able to describe it more vividly than a 'battle between two Servants'. Perhaps their lack of imagination is quite the condemnation against the current Magi society when they had birthed such unparalleled creative minds in the past. A sentiment that would probably be shared by the two combatants currently clashing.

The battle between Da Vinci and Paracelsus truly could not be called anything other than a clash between legends.

Great magus versus great magus. Genius scientist versus genius scientist. Hero versus hero.

Paracelsus had summoned an earth elemental, into whose core the legendary Philosopher's Stone was enthroned. The golem was installed with a catalyst of such power that many modern magi would sacrifice everything to get even just a sliver of it without hesitation. With it the golem was comparable in strength with a Servant of the Berserker class. While his movements and attacks did not shine with particular grace or a polished style - simply an expression of raw, uncouth power, a single graze would pulp a Servant. According to all logic, even the most powerful Servants would not take any a blow from such a strong opponent lightly.

And yet, Da Vinci, which, according to all the stereotypes about the Caster class, had very unimpressive physical parameters, even for a magus, simply put her hand against the blow of the huge elemental. When the elemental's fist impacted Da Vinci's, contrary to all laws of physics, the great bulk of granite staggered and creaked as its body began to crack. The elemental then took a step backward as if it was pushed. Then, beginning from the golem's fist, it shattered into dust-.

"Hmm..." - Paracelsus carefully examined Da Vinci's movements, taking note of even the smallest details - "So... Hmm, it looked like she had redirected all the kinetic energy from the elemental's impact on her hand. In the moment of impact she had instantly collected it, and then directing it in the opposite direction. An excellent strategy - an earth elemental that absorbed the philosopher's stone was not an opponent who can be easily defeated using normal attack vectors. Turning the golem's own strength, equal to his toughness, against itself is the simplest and most logical possible action. "

Such an elaborate observation and theory crafting did not take even a tenth of a second in the mind of Paracelsus, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Satisfied with his observation, his mind becomes fully focused again on tactical plans and a mind that collects and creates great spells with the most complex of details on the go.

"O' wind!" The tornado that rose could easily become the main topic of news headlines in national newspapers for several weeks, if not months, but for both sides it was nothing more than a distraction. "O' fire!

A moment later, the rising vortex was entwined with fiery sparks, turning the raging tornado into a fiery inferno, devouring everything in its path - after which it fell on Da Vinci.

A moment later, a weightless whitish haze rose around Da Vinci, like a small cloud of steam. The vortex that collided with it, as soon as it tried to swallow the smoke screen, crumbled, as if it had lost all its cohesion, turning the fiery tornado into nothing more than a hot wind that passed in a wave in all directions.

"Hmm..." - Paracelsus was distracted for a second by thinking as he summoned another elemental. "'Destruction of magic'… That is a very rare skill for a Servant to possess."

Destruction of magic was really not a skill that even the most famous of Servants could have easily possessed. In fact, even Paracelsus had a hard time remembering which Servant actually had them. But perhaps he really shouldn't really be surprised that Da Vinci had it.

Da Vinci's greatest strength truly lay...

Well, if Paracelsus were to speak honestly, Da Vinci had too many traits that could be called her 'greatest strength'. Fastidious preparation, boundless intelligence, patient attentiveness, an endless well of magical skills, and that's not even talking about her Noble Phantasm. But specifically, in this case, Paracelsus was referring to a specific skill she possessed, Natural-born Genius.

Without going into the nitty gritty detail of the mystical background of this skill and all of its features, the simplest way to describe the skill would be that 'as long as an ability is attainable by human mind and effort, it can be obtained by Da Vinci without any effort'. Such was the power of the Genius of Geniuses.

In other words, it means that although a specific ability could only be obtained by very specific and limiting conditions Da Vinci could use it. Abilities that could only be obtainable from the possession of a certain object, or the performance of certain legendary feats Da Vinci could use it. Barring skills that are obtainable only from conditions of birth, like Divinity, as long as a skill remained 'attainable for a person at least in theory' - Da Vinci could use it.

Therefore, an ability like 'Magical Defense' or 'Destruction of Magic' could be obtained by Da Vinci literally at the snap of her fingers when Da Vinci needed it, and discarded like unnecessary ballast the moment after Da Vinci no longer needed it.

In other words, in addition to dozens of descriptions of Da Vinci, each containing the word 'incredible', Da Vinci was and remains one of the greatest Servants in the anti-Servant class.

It was difficult even to imagine what Servant could compete with Da Vinci in the amount of counter-abilities and counter-tactics that they could easily put on the battlefield… Perhaps Gilgamesh - which, however, had little to do with his skills.

But Paracelsus noticed how, after a moment of hesitation, Da Vinci evaded the elemental's blow, instead of taking it on directly again. After which she struck a sharp blow on the elemental - which, contrary to all logic, sent the stone giant on a long flight.

However, no matter how overpowered her skills is, Da Vinci was still not invincible. Even such a powerful ability had its own limitations. Limitations, which Paracelsus knew quite well.

Truly, the double-edged sword of friendship…

The first limitation is that Da Vinci, although she could instantly manipulate any skill she received or discarded with great mastery, still wasted mana and would be taxed mentally when she used it. Not so much that it would matter in any conventional battle between Servants that would last minutes at best.

Still, as humble as Paracelsus is, he still regarded himself as slightly stronger than a regular Servant, as much of a paradox as a 'normal' Servant is. So he was confident that he could hold out long enough that even Da Vinci would fizzle out a little from the constant juggling of skills and constant maintaining a dozen different abilities that she was not familiar with.

The second limitation of this skill was that Da Vinci's body could only accommodate so many skills at the same time. Which is why, being in a dangerous position, when her opponent could also use a wide arsenal of attacks and abilities - which did not happen often, but still happened, as, for example, in the case of Paracelsus - Da Vinci was forced to carefully select her set of abilities she would use at the moment.

And the third danger for Da Vinci, of course, was the limited strength of her skills. Yes, the abilities she received were already monstrously strong, easily comparable in power with ordinary A rank skills, but if her opponent used abilities of an even higher rank - Da Vinci was forced to either evade, remembering her extremely unimpressive physical parameters, use additional abilities, or obtain duplicate skills aimed at strengthening each other. In the end whatever method she used it would contribute to the depletion of Da Vinci' reserves.

And so now, after half an hour in pitched battle, Da Vinci looked a little shaky in her breathing, her hair was disheveled, and her glove was scratched in several places - and it had already lost three fingers.

But still… Da Vinci was and remains one of the strongest Servants of the Throne of Heroes.

Therefore, while Da Vinci had just taken a step on the path that would ultimately lead her to defeat, Paracelsus himself was tethering on the edge, beyond which lay his destruction.

Paracelsus was the greatest magus, fighting on his territory, possessing dozens of the greatest catalysts in the entire history of magic, the help of a dozen elementals and a month and a half of preparation.

And Da Vinci was Da Vinci.

The outcome was a foregone conclusion from the very beginning.

Paracelsus inhaled.

It could not be said that he was completely exhausted and ready to collapse at Da Vinci's feet at any second, or that he was out of options, he still had mana left and a couple of trump cards in his sleeve. But even if he would exhaust all of it, it would only be enough for only one decisive, last, desperate attack.

Paracelsus exhaled.

His Noble Phantasm... This was his last and most powerful trump card. But, against Da Vinci... It was not necessarily useless, no, but the greatest power of his Noble Phantasm will not work on someone who embodies more than the great scientist's Noble Phantasm itself.

And, of course, if Da Vinci answered him with her own Noble Phantasm, then Paracelsus would lose. There is a zero chance of him winning that exchange.

If he sacrifices all of his reserve now, he will lose. If he drags out the battle, he will lose.

Da Vinci was truly a genius of geniuses.

"Do not be upset, Philip", - Da Vinci smiled, looking calmly into the eyes of Paracelsus, - "Maybe next time you will be lucky!"

Paracelsus smiled at the friendliest address to an enemy that could be imagined, - "Only if I do not have the misfortune of fighting with you again."

Paracelsus took a step back, reaching for the useless blade hanging from his belt all this time...

Before he felt a familiar Servant appearing by his side.

"Hm?" - Paracelsus was distracted by the girl who just appeared out of nowhere. "Alice?"

"We are leaving", - Alice's voice was cold and firm.

Paracelsus glanced at Da Vinci. In between the moment that he addressed Alice and did not look at Da Vinci, her demeanour had changed dramatically.

Although for Da Vinci the battle with Paracelsus could not be called easy and by no means frivolous - both opponents were truly trying to kill each other after all - until the moment that Alice had appeared Da Vinci looked at ease, relaxed and calm. Da Vinci had interacted with Paracelsus easily, naturally, and without any tension in her demeanour. However, as soon as the girl who seemed to appear hardly older than twelve years old, Da Vinci's entire demeanour changed.

Da Vinci's entire body, even the way she positioned her hands, was now screaming about how focused she was on the newly emerging opponent.

For a second, Paracelsus felt a slight prick of resentment from how strikingly different Da Vinci's reaction to him and Alice was - but he easily drove these thoughts away from his mind, knowing that he was in a completely different weight category than Alice or Da Vinci.

"Of course", - Paracelsus relaxed, then looked at Da Vinci, - "I beg your pardon, Leo, we will have to finish everything another time."

"Of course, Philip", - Da Vinci smiled back at him - but her gaze continued to focus on the new Servant. "But it would be better after you find yourself in Chaldea. I would prefer to end this match at the negotiating table."

"Me too, Leo", - Philip smiled at the girl, then looked at Alice, - "Then let's go…"

Mashu did not quite understand what purpose she had in this Singularity.

After the duties were distributed to the Servants, Mashu was given, perhaps, an honorable, but somewhat redundant in this situation, role of the base guard. A last line of defense, a role that was supposed to be crucial, and yet quite redundant in this case.

Of course, under normal conditions, having a Shielder in this role would be logical. Considering that, according to his own words, Andersen did not know how to fight at all, and therefore needed protection, Mashu's role was the best suited for her. And yet Mashu knew that a fight where her power was needed would be one where she couldn't contribute at all.

First of all, Mashu did not quite understand what the need for additional protection of the headquarters was, if Ainz was also present at the headquarters at the moment.

Secondly, after Ainz refused to send Jalter and Nobunaga out of necessity, they also stayed in the base. So Mashu did not quite understand the necessity of her presence while next to significantly more experienced and powerful Servants.

In other words, Mashu felt a little useless in the current situation.

'Therefore, it is necessary to go to the Master. he will save me from loneliness…'

Therefore, Mashu needed to go to the Master… Mashu stopped in her tracks and shook her head. Galahad's laughter echoing in her head made Mashu grit her teeth.

"You have absolutely nothing else to do?" - Mashu exhaled through her nose, addressing her 'roommate'.

'There's not that many things I can do while I'm stuck in your head… ' - Galahad answered Mashu while laughing - 'No, of course there are some. Things that I can try to do, something else… However, I think you will not appreciate it that much.'

Mashu pressed her lips into a thin line, after which, imagining a quiet serene field in front of her, she tried to calm down.

A glade full of beautiful flowers… She is standing in the middle of a flower meadow...

'BAD THOUGHTS!' Galahad pretty much screamed from inside her own head. 'STOP RIGHT NOW!'

The beautiful picture of a flower meadow in Mashu's mind was instantly dispelled by the internal screams of Galahad, forcing her to groan internally.

"What's wrong now?" - Mashu looked at the sky in resignation.

'Bad memories of one very bad person' Galahad gasped in response, and then fell silent for a second. 'I do know that he can wade into dreams, but can he do so with idle thoughts…? Anyway, just in case, don't imagine any more flower fields! If you never do it again the better!'

"Who are you talking about?" - Mashu asked Galahad a question, but he suddenly went silent.

'In any case… ' - Galahad unconvincingly tried to segway into another topic.

"Don't try to distract me!" - Mashu tried to return to the previous topic of discussion, but was interrupted again by Galahad just bulldozing into another topic of discussion.

'So what are you going to do about the Master and the harem gathering around him?' Well Galahad's question definitely made Mashu forget what she was trying to ask. She immediately choked and tried to blubber about these and that while shaking her head.

'Oh, come on, stop with your usual antics. Just be honest with yourself, you are in love.' Galahad rolled his eyes - and he did it so naturally that Mashu for a second forgot that Galahad did not have eyes in his state and he could not roll them for physiological reasons.

"What are you talking about Galahad! I don't feel anything for Ainz! Well, I do feel something… But not like that! And if so… then not about this, and if about this, then in a different way... "

Mashu barely resisted only by a miracle from not blushing to the very tips of her ears, but in the end she was still able to resist from immediately rushing to make excuses to Galahad.

Well… Maybe… If you think so… After all, what does 'being in love' means? How can such a thing be objectively determined?!

'I hear all your thoughts, Mashu. Even the hidden ones!' As if a ghost from a cheap horror movie, Galahad left a comment to Mashu that caused her to shriek in horror.

'I, perhaps, am talking about things that are none of my business… '

"Yes, you are!" - Mashu immediately retorted, but she did not succeed in knocking Galahad out of her mind.

'Still, I can't understand why you are so desperate to drive away thoughts of falling in love with Ainz.' Galahad sighed.

'Of course, maybe he is strange for a… Groom. But if you are not afraid of his essence - and you are not afraid, I know. From a logical point of view, he is a very rewarding match… Maybe overly so."

"I… " - Mashu froze for a second.

On the one hand, it hurt and was even shameful for Mashu to admit to anyone about her past and her secret worries. But at the same time, was there a point in trying to hide any information about herself from a part of herself? Therefore… she decided to share with Galahad her worries.

"I was created… " - Mashu breathed out slowly - "As a designer child. Not too far from a homunculus in essence. And homunculi… their lifespans are not very long."

'How long?' Galahad asked the question calmly.

Mashu sighed. "I don't know… At the current rate I'm going. According to Roman maybe a year…? Or maybe even six months?"

Mashu exhaled. Ha, it was always saddening for her to think that she was born for such a short life… But Mashu was still happy.

Even if her life was short, she had still managed to enjoy it to the fullest. She had gone on the adventures she could only dream of! She had experienced a myriad of joys, discoveries, laughter, and even very exciting battles! She even fought a Kaiju! Everything she could ever dream of...

'STOP! Stop, stop, full stop!' - Galahad instantly recoiled and shouted in Mashu's head, not giving Mashu the opportunity to even begin to plunge into her sad melancholy.

'Where is the problem with you being with Ainz?' Galahad asked with a lot of confusion.

"What?" - Mashu asked the question into the void, after which she felt hurt for a second - "I'm dying!"

'I don't see any special problems with that?' Galahad sighed in Mashu's head. - 'Your Master seems to be the embodiment of Death… Or have I misunderstood something? He revived that Tsundere Director of yours, asking for another five hundred years of life seemed paltry in comparison.'

Mashu blinked. This idea… did not occur to her…

'Let me guess.' - Galahad breathed out - 'Are you so obsessed and taken on faith that you will soon die that you didn't even think to even ask your very powerful Master something so simple?'

Mashu blinked. That is… Um… Khem-khem…

'Silence in this case is a sign of agreement, Mashu.' - Galahad sighed - 'Mashu… I thought you were a pretty smart girl.'

"I don't want to ask Senpai for anything more!" - Mashu tried to object to Galahad, but she was cut before she could ramble on.

'Oh, so you think that Ainz will refuse to save his Servant with whom he went through so much, because… Why, actually?' Galahad raised one of his eyebrows - metaphysically that is.

'Or do you think he will be angry? You know, I think Ainz will be more angry with you if you don't tell him about it.'

Mashu froze for a second.

Galahad was patiently silent.

Mashu was silent.

Galahad was silent.

Mashu continued to be silent...

Galahad could not resist. - 'Mashu, sometimes you are so terribly stupid…'

Jalter silently watched the return of Arthuria. Watching her move step by step, not paying attention to the other Saber trying to walk surreptitiously next to her, or to Jekyll trailing behind her. Jalter assessed the way Arthuria walked.

Arthuria paused her step for a second in order to catch Jalter's gaze - just for a second - she then continued to move forward, ignoring her. However, Jalter perfectly noticed that Arthuria looked at her, after which, with a slight chuckle under her breath, she turned around and started heading deeper into the house.

The relationship between Jalter and the other Servants was… Not the most interesting topic, actually. Servants, being fundamentally different beings, differing not only in character or mentality like normal people, but also in the mythological background of their actions. Even the time of their lives, were most often so different that it was more difficult to find Servants who communicated with each other well, rather than the opposite.

And therefore it was somewhat strange that Jalter and Arthuria still maintained a certain, albeit small, contact. Not to say that it was completely positive…

There was something between Arthuria and Jalter that could be called rivalry from a certain angle. Nothing like what Hector and Achilles have between them, but just some dissimilarity, and at the same time similarities, which grew into a certain sluggish conflict.

They are two Servants garbed in black armor, even their casual wear are somewhat alike! They both embody the 'dark side of the personality' of the heroic archetype of a noble warrior and savior. A dark mirror of holy and God-chosen heroes. Two witches, two Servants associated with Dragons… The similarities go on and on.

And yet they were as different as day and night. Cold stoicism of a tyrant against the unbridled fervor of a fanatic, indifference against hatred. The one who sacrifices against the one who was sacrificed.

No, Arthuria and Jalter were not at all similar to each other and they did not interact too much. And yet there was still some kind of hostility between them...

A conflict that is somewhat more serious than a croissant-eating competition. And in other conditions, Jalter and Arthuria would most likely exchange a couple of glances...

No outright hatred and no words. A strange and incomprehensible confrontation that does not go beyond and yet does not disappear.

Why did this hostility arise from Arthuria?

It was difficult to guess the answer to this question, but she knew the reason why this confrontation arose on her part.

Similar and different at the same time...

Was Jeanne Alter afraid of her own kind?

Yes. She was afraid. Not afraid of a stronger enemy, but how one can be afraid of something that they themselves cannot understand?

Perhaps Jalter was simply afraid of Arthuria precisely because they were so similar and so different?

After all, what could Jeanne Alter hold on to if not her own image and self? And how could one not be afraid of something that was so much like themselves and yet at the same time - diametrically opposite?

Perhaps, in other conditions, looking at the approaching Arthuria, Jalter would have felt something unpleasant, like a prick that pierced the hand for a second - not much pain, but for some reason it was especially unpleasant...

However, this time.

"You've returned quickly", - Jalter threw a snide comment over her shoulder, without even turning around, - "Looks like your fighting abilities were not so great, ha…"

Then, not listening to the answers from the irate Saber, Jalter grinned, then continued walking.

However, now she did not need to clash with Arthuria. After all, she now had something that Arthuria could never take from her.

Well, if she decides to arrange a rematch for the eating contest, ha, then Jalter will be happy to answer the challenge.

Shakespeare was currently standing with the other Servants of his 'side'.

"Oh, I understand now why I didn't give any of my heroes the ability to travel instantly." - Shakespeare breathed out. - "No matter how many wonderful opportunities to demonstrate the heroism of the hero and the evil of the villain, its effect would be lost, if the hero can teleport instantly. After all, with that ability, one has gotten rid of the hero's path and journey, leaving only the beginning and end..."

"You are back." A cold voice that is cold enough to freeze all the flames of Hell, making even Shakespeare, who is accustomed to ignoring all the rules of etiquette and titles, frown, resounded in the chilly air.- "But as far as I know, none of the enemy's Servants was killed."

"I beg your pardon, my King," Paracelsus was the first to kneel before the speaker, "However, I was unable to defeat Leonardo Da Vinci in battle."

"Hmm?" The voice of the King - or is it the Queen? - Shakespeare was in doubt about the use of that particular title - for a second showed interest - "Leonardo Da Vinci? The Great Genius as a Servant?"

"Yes, my King." Paracelsus' voice was soft and respectful - as if it was not a burden for him to kneel before someone… As a matter of fact, in Shakespeare's own opinion, Paracelsus was the type of person who did not hesitate to kneel before anyone who asked that of him.

"It was exactly Leonardo Da Vinci that I fought. It was too much for me to defeat, especially in a Caster's class… However, for some reason she is now in the body of a girl."

"It's not a big problem," Shakespeare chuckled inwardly at such a clarification, and then looked at the King's particular appearance in front of him.

"What about the others?" - The Servant's gaze moved to, hmm... Alice.

"Medusa", - the girl's voice was calm, but not so much cold as simply emotionless.

"She had used her Noble Phantasm in a battle with me. However… I cannot vouch for this conclusion with absolute certainty… Something in her does not correspond to the information about Medusa that I have."

"Hmm." The King's voice was cold, as usual. Shakespeare was actually already a little bored with the Servant's pretentious-detached manner of communication, - "I will pass this information on to the Master."

Shakespeare almost laughed, not at all like a gentleman, at these words. As if the Master had anything to do with what was going on in this world at all or that he cared at all!

"Shakespeare.", - however, the voice of the King finally returned Shakespeare to the real world, - "I do not remember the moment when I would give you the order to advance against the enemy."

"Certainly, my King", - Shakespeare smiled in response to the King's cold, dead tone - "After all, there was no such order!"

"I see…" The King's voice was cold, as usual. How boring. - "So, you won't even try to justify yourself in front of me?"

"I beg your pardon, my King." Shakespeare was polite, but something in his tone, or maybe in the unconscious movements of his hands, gave him more of an air of a royal jester. Despicable and mocking, but, at the same time, untouchable.

"However, as I was not given the opportunity to see what plan I dared to violate with my actions, I have to humbly apologize for the discomfort. But at the same time, I can assure you that my actions were useful and fully corresponded to the wishes of my Master!" Shakespeare finished with a flurry.

The mention of the Master made the King frown, just as Shakespeare had expected. How boring.

King, another King, and then after that five more Kings… Really why are Servants so obsessed with their Kingship! The 'King of Magic', the 'King of Inventors' or even something as useless of a title as the 'King of Storms'! And every single one of them is so proud of their title - although their title is useless when everyone is around the King… How boring.

And every King wants to be the King, not only to be called so, but to act like one. The so-called King in front of him definitely wanted to execute Shakespeare on the spot. For betrayal and violation of orders… or some other thought up reasons.

However, all that Shakespeare needed to say was that he 'acted without violating the Master's plans' - and the 'King' would give up without a fight and can do nothing. Indeed, what will the King do against the Master, against the King of Kings? This farce is so boring.

"I will turn to the Master for advice regarding your punishment," The annoyed voice of yet another King made Shakespeare smile - not hiding his emotions and disdain at all.

Indeed, she would turn to the Master… As if he did not know about Shakespeare's actions even before he did them. As if the Master gives a damn about his Servants, their petty actions and accomplishments. As if they were not just pawns, unnecessary for the central action, created only to create an 'atmosphere' for the main action...

How petty the King is when he loses his crown... How much he wants to be the King again - and how he fights to death, in his hands the greatness trying to keep...

Shakespeare exhaled - he knew that the Master would not punish him for anything and the King would have to bear the jester's mockery again. Kings trying in vain to keep even a shadow of a semblance of control on their 'court'... How droll.

Oh, it seems, that he again had strayed into a completely different syllable! Shakespeare should have looked after himself better - now was not the time for that, no, no!

"In that case", - The King's voice sounded again, - "If the enemy's Servants are strong, hmm... We may have to use more resources than we currently do."

Shakespeare smiled. But the time will come, it will definitely come...

Historical Analysis of the Factography On the Life of Elizabeth Bathory:

Elizabeth Bathory, perhaps to this day, remains a fairly well-known factual mystery of history. A conundrum where the more facts are 'known' about her, the more mysterious her life turned out to be.

It certainly didn't help that her history is so mixed with legends, myths, hearsay, and even outright lies that it is almost impossible to tell history and fiction apart. It is to the point that it is almost impossible to irrevocably assert even the most innocuous part of her life as historic fact.

In particular, even the most famous, widely known and 'factual' story about Elizabeth, of the ritualistic murder of young peasant woman, are proven to be lies. And yet everyone 'knows' that Elizabeth Bathory killed countless virginal young women and bathed in their blood to maintain her youth and beauty. Even the 'Iron Maiden', a torture implement often attributed to Elizabeth Bathory, is later proven as a hoax and historical forgery that had no working counterpart in real history made to drum up excitement about some museum.

Worse, a story by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla, written much much later after Elizabeth's death, further muddied the water. Written twenty-six years ahead of Bram Stoker's Dracula, the alleged 'father of vampire prose' popularized the theory that Elizabeth was a vampire. It didn't help that the vampire 'boom' made such misinformation almost the 'accepted truth'.

In particular, in the same way the people around Elizabeth did, after the death of Carmilla, alleged 'life testimonies' about her 'vampire nature' popped up like mushrooms. They talked about Elizabeth's 'inhuman beauty', about her participation in a 'cult of Witches', about her 'struggle with her human part' (possibly a reference to the mental illness of Elizabeth Bathory and the possible splitting of the personality?), about her not only clandestine murders of peasants, but also the open destruction of peasants at the direction of the 'Witch'.

Even her death was shrouded in ostentatious legend. It is said that after the destruction of her human part - whatever this means - Carmilla was poisoned by a peasant girl who had been sent as a sacrifice. She had drunk poison before Carmilla drank her blood, dying due to the poison she had inadvertently drunk.

It seems that the story of Elizabeth would have even more unbelievable details added in the future…