Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

“I am Sylvie Loshutal, the daughter of a vampire.”

"He is the only human nobleman still alive in Degonris."

Chapter 475 The Breaker

"A vampire's daughter? A human?"

Sylvie nodded. “My family turned themselves into vampires, but only I…” Sylvie clutched her head, a pained expression on her face. “I… I don’t remember what happened. When I woke up again, I was lying in the central chapel. Dagonris had already fallen into the shadow of vampires.”

Sylvie led the two to the central chapel, which was more dilapidated than any church Ralph had ever seen. The white walls, which had been neglected and covered with dust, were covered with horrifying black handprints. The doors were made of iron, and hanging stalks of garlic filled every available space. The pungent smell mixed with the earthy stench, and it was unlikely that any priest would want to stay there.

Opening the heavy iron door, you can see that the casting process is not refined. On this uneven iron door, you can see the rough splicing of metal blocks. It is very heavy, and it takes four townspeople working together to slowly push it open.

Inside the chapel, to put it somewhat disrespectfully, it was essentially a storeroom for sculptures of the crucifix. Aside from the pillars supporting the church, there was nothing else—not a chair, not a wooden table, let alone any tools for religious ceremonies. Only the sculptures of the crucifix, fixed to crosses, watched Ralph approach from the entrance, their faces as expressionless as his own.

There was no scent of holy oil or incense, only a thick, stagnant body odor, a smell that Ralf had smelled on the unrecognizable clothes of the townspeople of Dagonlis.

“As soon as the sun goes down, we will lock everyone in this church. It is the only safe place in Drogonris at night.”

"Do vampires hunt in town at night?"

Sylvie's gaze lingered on the sculpture of the victims. "In the night, wandering in Drogonris, are the cursed angels."

"The cursed blood angel who punishes the fallen."

"Angels? Angels exist in the land of vampires?"

Silvette looked hesitant, as if searching for a reasonable explanation.

"Perhaps it was the corruption of Loshutar that angered the city's original divine power. Every night, blood-soaked angels would unleash divine punishment upon the people of Dagonris."

Ralph approached the statue of the suffering victim, which, like the ones he had seen before, depicted the young Son of God before his ascension to Heaven. Such statues would vary in appearance, as the Son of God's form was inherently different in the eyes of different stonemasons. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the vampire daughter standing in the center; Sylvie was not praying, like an atheist.

"What a merciful angel! There's a vampire castle not far away, yet he vents his anger on a flock of lambs in a slaughterhouse."

Silvette leaned against the pillar with his arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on Ralph's back and the object hanging behind him in the long, narrow box.

“You…you’re not just envoys from the kingdom, are you? Outsiders.” Sylvie looked at Violet, who was smiling at her, without giving them a chance to speak. “You’re too calm. Even after hearing about vampires, seeing gargoyles dismembering creatures before your eyes, and entering this hellish place called Dagonris, you showed no fear whatsoever. It’s as if you already knew, as if you’re not normal humans…”

"So how do you all remain normal? Miss Sylvie, you and these townspeople, even in this desperate situation, seem quite calm. Is it a promise from your monster father? What are you hiding?"

Reversing the tables, Ralph used his absolute aura to shift the blame onto Sylvie. Although it was the first time he had used interrogation techniques on a young girl, Ralph did not feel guilty. Incidentally, the last innocent boy to be threatened was Mr. William.

Ralph guessed that Sylvie would either give a flimsy excuse to hide it, or fly into a rage because she felt offended.

But nothing happened. Silvet stood there, like a soulless puppet, and told Ralf her innermost thoughts.

"Maybe I've already gone mad. I don't know why I can remain calm in this situation. The constant pain and fragmented memories in my mind make me doubt my own existence. I'm the only one left in my family, depended on by a group of former subjects. It's like there's a hole in my heart, completely unable to show any madness or fear. I woke up to find the whole world changed. I'm locked up in this town, barely surviving in the shadow of vampires, and being hunted by cursed angels."

"I hate both vampires and angels. That's why I suspect I was exiled to this town. My memories are fragmented. My memories of living in that castle are scattered and broken. Maybe I was tortured. I refused to be converted because I hate vampires, and I hate angels because I was chased by them. That's probably who I am now."

The bewildered girl was held in Violet's arms. Violet patted her back like a mother, let her rest her head on her shoulder, and gently hummed a song amidst her fragrant body scent.

"...We are witchers, hunters responsible for eliminating evil creatures. We received intelligence that Dagonris possesses evil powers, so we came to investigate. Girl, do you know anything about the seal?"

“A seal? You mean the mysterious power buried throughout the entire city of Dagonlis? I don’t know the source of this power. Maybe…maybe it’s a blessing left behind by that cursed angel. That seal protects Dagonlis, preventing flying monsters from setting foot here or crossing the city. Their wings would lose their power.”

Ralf opened the long, narrow box, revealing the alchemical musket named Dragonfire. "We need your help, Sylvie. Since the power is buried within the earth itself, I believe there must be a solution here. We will get Dagonris out of its current predicament, but first, you must help us explore every corner of this town."

“Every corner…” Sylvie left the sheriff’s arms and gave Violet a grateful smile. “I will cooperate with your work if it can really be as you say.”

"Please rest here for a moment. It's getting late, and I need to arrange the evacuation of the townspeople. Once we get through tonight, I will definitely work with you to find a solution." Sylveet left the church, leaving the two of them alone.

Violet is cleaning the dust and mud off her clothes.

"You really like that girl?"

"I love children, and I would love them even more if they were my own."

Ignoring the woman's words, Ralph pulled his hat down low, hiding his face in the shadows.

"You believe in Silvette?"

“No, I don’t trust her.” Violet, who had just been all smiles with her sister, now displayed a sharp, capable demeanor. “She’s frail, carries no apparent weapons, is very vulnerable, and is highly likely to be of noble birth. But…”

"But she had no concept of aristocratic etiquette at all. Her every move exuded a natural nobility, but her manners were like those of a country girl. She even looked down on the daughter of a wealthy merchant."

"The last person to give me this strange feeling was Little Lyle."

“Lyle grew up in the slums, no one taught him, he was born noble but behaved crudely, which is normal.”

“If she were an amnesiac noblewoman, she might forget the formalities, but her inherent nobility would still make sense. But I won’t trust her. You were the one who said that, Ralph.”

"[If the person you're talking to is a madwoman or someone with amnesia, don't believe everything she says, because you can't be sure of the truthfulness of her words, not even she herself. Their words are only good for misleading.]" Ralph examined Dragonfire's hammer and ammunition. "At least, one thing is certain: Sylviet's viewpoint is wrong."

"That sealing power did not keep the vampires out."

"Among the townspeople of Dagonris, there are some who are disguised vampires."

Violet keenly recalled the events of her journey.

How did you determine that?

Ralph's answer was intriguing.

"I can smell their stench."

Easter Egg Chapter: Healing the Shadows

In the city of wandering, the gentleman wears a suit that was once colorful but is now gray and white. The withered rose on his chest looks like clumps of dust, as if it would crumble at the slightest touch. Flesh and blood disguised as a tense face on his skull, but his expression actually has a more straightforward way of expressing himself.

That was trembling. The gentleman, seated upright, was shaking violently, affecting the teacups on the pristine white table and his companions as well.

"Avenritter, Avenritter! If you invited me out just to demonstrate how to be a proper bell-ringer, well, your performance was quite successful. I'm so annoyed I want to slap you." The long black tail swept across his cheek, the comfortable touch relaxing the black cat's expression considerably. It was using its tail to please him; the cat and its tail seemed like two separate beings.

Veraliz, a Shadow Beast, is also the current Witch Matriarch. The Gentleman is partly a member of the Rat King, a Shadow Beast named Avenrett who brought the Black Death plague. They are of the same species and are the last two Shadow Beasts.

Vera Liz's warning had its effect; the gentleman stopped trembling, but the aftershocks lingered in his left hand, twitching under the table. This did nothing to stop the cat from savoring her tea; she leaned down and contentedly licked the tea with her little tongue, enjoying this small pleasure.

The simple gesture caught the gentleman's attention.

“You weren’t like this before. You used to be more direct, you’d enlarge your head twice and swallow it whole, cup and all.”

"How long ago was that? Ten years ago? Or twenty years ago? I change, just as you are no longer the mouse I used to know. You've disguised yourself as a lich." The black cat stopped drinking its tea and wiped its cheek with its front paw. "I need to be more refined so that our combination doesn't look so strange. You've taken on all the weirdness."

"Do you care about this now?" The gentleman's fingertips lightly touched each other. "Nothing else, we... I thought we would have more... understanding."

The cat rubbed its tail against its furry face with a napkin, then looked up, its dark eyes meeting the gentleman's, though the latter quickly looked away, looking embarrassed.

“We were once both shadow beasts. Now, I am the witch matriarch, and you are a lich. I have a herd to care for, and you… you have your own herd. I’m sorry, gentleman, this date was a bad decision. We… we are different now. Before things get any worse, I think we need to learn to adapt.” The black cat turned and prepared to leave.

The gentleman shouted just as Vera Liz was about to jump off the table.

"Birthday! Veraliz, today is the day I celebrate your birthday!"

The black cat stopped and sat back down on the edge of the table.

"I've heard this word before. What does it mean, and what does it do, when the little witch says it?" The Shadow Beasts don't celebrate their birthdays.

"A birthday is the day a life is born. Many intelligent beings have the custom of celebrating their birthdays every year. And your birthday, Veraliz, is today."

"You know my birthday, Evan Ritter?" The black cat slowly approached, looking at the gentleman with curiosity. A date he had never cared about before, yet he remembered it.

“I don’t know the date you were born, Veraliz. When we first met, you were already the size of a calf. But a birthday isn’t just the day we were born. Veraliz, twenty-three years ago today, we left our tribe and depended on each other for survival. That’s the only day I can remember that’s related to you, and I’ve made that day your birthday. If I could, I would like to celebrate your birthday.”

The black cat stood still, looking at the person in front of it.

“That day was also the day our people perished, and shortly afterward, you left me, leaving me all alone with a utterly clumsy lie. Just as you said, Avenritter, today is indeed a day to remember.”

"If I could, I would like to make up for it today. Celebrating a birthday should be a happy occasion. If you could trust me one more time, please do so." The gentleman extended his palm.

After a long while, before the down-on-his-luck gentleman could withdraw his hand, the black cat placed its front paw on his fingertips.

“You know I can’t do it. Just like before, I can’t refuse you, refuse my only remaining member of the race, Avenratt, you cunning rat.”

The stars lit up in their eyes.

Vera Liz jumped into Evan Ritter's arms, and the gentleman left a small pile of gold coins as a return gift for the hope the restaurant had given him.

A person and a cat chatted while taking a walk.

"Tell me honestly, who taught you the idea for your birthday party! Those liches?"

"...That's half right. It was indeed the liches that inspired me, but you know, those who have been dead for a long time are more likely to remember another point in time than their birthdays, which are buried in the ruins of their memories. Their death anniversaries. Some of Andrei's liches celebrate their death anniversaries and experience different ways of dying on that day."

“…It won’t be long before those crazed liches find a way to kill themselves again.” Veraliz nestled her head in the pillow curled up by her fluffy tail, patting the withered rose on the gentleman’s chest with her front paw. “But they were right, Evanrit, we shouldn’t forget the dead so easily…”

"Today is for you, Veraliz. The purpose of a birthday is to celebrate the extra year we have lived in this world, to praise and give thanks for our lives. Our people will feel our joy and be comforted. We cannot remain in the past forever."

"Okay, it's rare to have a day off," the cat nestled obediently in my arms, "You've already arranged everything?"

"Absolutely foolproof, my lady."

Vera Liz's mind was filled with the image of that voice. The panicked version of herself had found peace in that gentle voice, and the slight undulations from her footsteps made the cat quickly squint its eyes comfortably.

Soon after, a pleasant tingling sensation woke the sleeping black cat. Veraliz found herself in a small shop, where she was placed on a soft velvet pillow, and a pair of large hands were massaging her back. The initial physical relief was quickly replaced by the unfamiliar touch, and her wild instincts kicked in, causing her fur to stand on end like steel needles.

The black cat turned its head and saw the living thing that had touched her. In the past, Veraliz would never let anyone who touched her body without permission go unpunished; becoming ferocious was the only way to survive in the wild. But this time, Veraliz didn't act ferociously, perhaps... perhaps that person was strangely unsettling.

He wore a clean and elegant maid's dress, his long hair styled in a bun at the back of his head with a hairpin, but the stiff texture of his hair made the bun look like a black sea urchin or a small pineapple stuck to the back of his head. He was more robust than any creature Veraliz had ever seen; his height of over two meters made everything around him look small and cute. His square face was heavily made up, and his squinting eyes, under heavy eyeshadow, appeared even smaller. His thick lips were painted with bright lipstick, or perhaps he was deliberately pouting.

In short, Mrs. Brandy is a tall, muscular, almost monstrous, smiling, innocent maid.

This is the Pure Maid Experience Store in the Light and Shadow Zone, a small shop with a unique charm.

A magnetic baritone voice emanated from behind Mrs. Brandy's fiery red lips, her two large hands coming together to playfully pat her left cheek, though it produced a loud sonic boom.

"You're awake, my adorable Vera Liz. I'm Mrs. Brandy, the manager and top maid of Pure Maid Experience Shop. Gentleman has prepared our most luxurious pet massage service for you. Please relax and let me help you relieve your fatigue."

When those massive hands returned to the black cat's back, Veraliz was genuinely startled. Brandy's hand was almost as big as the black cat's, and his bulging, terrifying muscles were far more frightening than those of the guardian paladins; it seemed as if a single squeeze could crush her.

"Meow~" That was Veraliz's first thought. The seemingly rough Brandy stroked the black cat's back with the back of one hand, while gently rubbing its chin with the other. A pleasant, tingling sensation surged through Veraliz's body, traveling along her nerves to the tip of her tail. It was like a faint electric current coursing through her body; an indescribable pleasure spread throughout the black cat. Veraliz melted, sprawling on the pillow like a lump of clay.

"Sweetie, we are professional when it comes to service."

"Meow meow meow~" Veraliz was like a drunkard intoxicated by comfort, making instinctive noises.

After the initial shock, the cat gradually got used to Brandy's massage. Her eyes were full of approval, and she chatted with her masseuse.

"What an incredible touch! Your effort is just right. I mean, Mrs. Brandy, you're probably the strongest creature I've ever seen, yet your movements are as light as a feather. How do you do that?"