Initiative

At this moment, Vlad didn't leave. Instead, he hid in the jungle, quietly observing the banshee's actions.

When he saw the look of disappointment in her eyes as she noticed his absence, Vlad knew one thing for sure—this situation was under control.

Now, his next step was to deepen the impression he had left in the banshee's heart.

The night of the second day.

Same time. Same place.

When Vlad's soulful singing echoed through the night again, the banshee, who had been resting at the bottom of the lake, instantly awoke.

A trace of surprise—visible to the naked eye—appeared on her enchanting face. Like a girl newly in love, she quickly swam to the branches, hiding among them and listening in secret.

But unlike last time, she didn't focus solely on the melody. Instead, she kept part of her attention on the man by the lakeshore—the man who made her heart flutter.

As the beautiful song continued, she couldn't help but hum along softly. Beneath the water, her slender waist twisted in rhythm, and her fiery gaze fixed on Vlad's face.

When the song ended, the man left again.

The Jibaro banshee stared at the figure disappearing into the night, a trace of sorrow and longing for tomorrow flickering in her eyes.

"Will he come again tomorrow?"

The third day.

The fourth day.

Day after day, a quiet rhythm formed between the two. Every night, as the singing began, the banshee would come as if summoned, crouching in the same hiding spot, silently listening to Vlad's voice.

Sometimes, she arrived even earlier than him, waiting eagerly beneath the tree.

One week later.

That night, the banshee came to the same spot again, full of anticipation, and waited quietly for Vlad's arrival.

In just a few short days, it had become a habit—a habit she never imagined she would develop.

She rested her head gently on the branch like a girl waiting for her secret lover.

Her large eyes sparkled with hope and desire for Vlad's return.

She even dreamed that, once he arrived, she would emerge from the shadows, dancing gracefully to his deep, magnetic singing, confessing her love through movement and song.

But deep down, the banshee knew this was only wishful thinking.

She feared that her appearance might frighten Vlad. She knew she was different.

She was also afraid Vlad, like all the others, would only care about the dazzling jewels on her body.

And so, she found herself shrinking back, too timid to approach—content only to watch from the shadows and seek solace in his presence.

As the moon slowly drifted across the sky and time passed,

the banshee's hopeful eyes began to show traces of panic.

"Why hasn't he come…?"

"Was something holding him up?"

"Yes… that must be it."

She whispered softly to herself, trying to calm her sensitive heart.

But as the hours slipped away and the sky turned gray with dawn,

the banshee, who had waited all night, felt her hopes fall with the moon. A thin mist welled up in her eyes—tears she could no longer hold back.

At that time, Vlad had arrived at a small town called Augsburg.

As Aleera and Marishka followed leads on the witch Muriel's whereabouts, Vlad changed his original plan and came here instead.

The reason? He had realized something important.

The Jibaro banshee clearly liked him—perhaps even loved him—but something held her back. She was always hesitant to reveal herself.

That wasn't part of Vlad's expectations.

In Love, Death & Robots, the Jibaro banshee was famously bold and aggressive in her pursuit.

So Vlad decided to adjust his strategy and leave—hoping to push her into making a move. If he stayed, the standoff might never end.

As for why Vlad didn't approach her directly?

Haha. Because even he wasn't sure he could fully resist the mental seduction of the Jibaro banshee and maintain control over his emotions.

In matters like this, it was better to stay on the offensive. Control was everything.

"Boom!!"

A bolt of blue lightning flashed past Vlad's ear and slammed into the rock wall behind him, shaking the entire area.

He turned and glanced at the massive crater carved into the stone, surrounded by spiderweb-like cracks.

"Haha, not bad," Vlad said, clearly amused.

Then he turned toward the source of the attack.

Before him stood a tall, voluptuous woman in a flowing black dress, layered with black leather armor. Her long legs, wrapped in sleek leather boots, looked both graceful and powerful.

Her black hair fell like a silky cape over her shoulders, framing her defined features and deep, mysterious eyes. Every part of her exuded the sultry charm of a mature woman.

This was the witch—Muriel.

She held a magic staff set with a blood-red gemstone, staring at the man who had suddenly intruded upon her domain with wide-eyed shock.

What surprised her wasn't just his presence—it was how easily he had dodged her ambush. She'd hoped to catch him off guard, but he'd tilted his head slightly and evaded the attack like it was nothing.

It was unsettling.

"Haha, Muriel, that's a bit rude, don't you think?" Vlad said casually.

"Sir, that was just… an accident. Do you believe me?" Muriel replied with an awkward smile.

But inside, she was already cursing him.

You burst into my home and tell me to surrender—what did you expect? Of course I fought back!

"So tell me," Vlad said, grinning, "should I believe you?"

He was honestly curious what kind of performance this infamously vicious witch from The Witch Hunter universe would put on next.

Muriel twisted her slender waist and bit her lip as she slowly walked toward him, a shy expression blooming on her face.

"I was nervous earlier… I didn't mean to attack you."

"Besides, you barged in so suddenly. I was startled too."

As she spoke, she swayed closer, her curvaceous figure moving with practiced grace. Her hips swayed, her red lips quivered with charm, and her slim fingers reached out, caressing Vlad's chest with a slow, seductive touch.

There was a delicate mixture of shyness and allure in her expression. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and her lips parted slightly as if begging for affection.

At that moment, Muriel embodied the full force of mature feminine seduction.

Vlad looked down at her body pressed against his—her soft breasts rubbing his chest, her curving hips lifting and shifting beneath a narrow waist.

She was playing her role perfectly.