Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Ha, another trick from your literary society." Veraliz said with a mocking smile. "I'm all ears for your writings. What's in your fairy tales?"

"The Snow White Lich and the Seven Ghouls, the Red-Haired Vampire and the Werewolf preying on each other, the Black Girl, the Mermaid Princess, the Lich Bride..."

"Wait a minute, some of these stories seem familiar... Evan Ritter, this is... a narrative? Not fiction?!"

The gentleman spread his hands. "Journalists only record the truth. My dear Veraliz, if you wish, I can add the story of the witch cat..."

"No, the story of the Fallen King Remontos is still going strong in the market. I don't want to become a disgrace."

"What a pity."

The reading lasted all afternoon, and the intellectual enrichment made them even more eager for the night ahead.

The Sinful District, the Demon Tower Hotel.

A pale pink crystal statue stands in the center of the hotel's top-floor restaurant. The brick walls here are pure white, and the fake marble patterns make it hard to connect the floor with the cold sulfur asphalt. The waiters are all well-dressed succubi. The sky-blue window frames and white walls make this place as luxurious as heaven. All of this was created by the famous devil designer himself. It is the Fallen Paradise Restaurant.

The gentleman unwrapped the napkin, which was folded into a cross, and tied it around Vera Liz's neck.

"I originally wanted to hold dinner at the Green Leaf Restaurant in the Elf District, as its environment best matches the primeval forest of our homeland. However, as you know, since that concert, my name seems to have become a taboo among the Elf race of the Wandering City. Given the stingy, long-lived nature of the vengeful race, I think we might be able to eat some Moonlight Berries when you turn five hundred, provided that the current Elf District administrator dies unexpectedly and doesn't leave my name in his will."

Vera Liz couldn't help but smile slightly, her eyes softening considerably since their meeting that morning.

“Avenrett, I’m so happy today…”

The gentleman reached out to interrupt her, "Don't draw conclusions too early. There's one last one, which is also the best one—a surprise."

A smiling succubus pushed a food cart to the table for the two of them. "Your cake has arrived."

It was a crystal block about half the height of a person. The crystal block was just a protective device, its function being to prevent the internal energy from leaking out. Just like now, the cake inside was shining with a dense holy light, so that everyone could only see a ball of light.

"Andrei Lich Specialty: Holy Light Cuisine".

Happy birthday, Veraliz.

The cake was placed on the table, and the succubus waiter took a small gavel and tapped the surface lightly. The crystal shattered into countless glowstone insects that flew away from the restaurant.

The cake was finally presented to the two of them.

The gentleman felt that things were getting out of control.

It wasn't an ordinary cake; the exquisite details revealed the maker's dedication, making it a work of art. However, this cake was humanoid. A handsome man in divine robes, crowned with a precious jewel, posed in a pose resembling a thinker. Four pairs of wings enveloped his entire body. On the crown, twenty-three points glowed with a faint yet eternal light from holy candles.

This is an angel, and it looks exactly like the leader of darkness.

The gentleman broke out in a cold sweat. The Dark Lord, formerly known as the Fire Angel, was the destroyer of the Shadow Beast Clan and Veraliz's greatest enemy in this life.

"A nice thought, Avenrett!"

"Huh? Huh?"

"Eat angels, isn't this something you prepared especially for us?"

"Yes, it is."

Vera Liz nodded, her eyes looking at the angel food cake with an unreadable expression.

"Hmm, since she's an angel, let's eat her the way we're from home."

The gentleman nodded numbly and picked up his knife and fork.

Veraliz's body suddenly swelled, her upper body expanding like flames in the wind, transforming into a giant mouth a meter in diameter that swallowed most of the angel cake in one gulp.

pat.

The gentleman's knife and fork fell onto the plate with a crisp sound.

"So delicious!!!" The cat patted its slightly heaving belly, lying on the table with a contented expression.

But the gentleman was startled, not because Vera Liz had reverted to her old eating habits, but because... her black fur was slowly peeling away, revealing a golden interior.

The Shadow Beast is glowing?

Dark cat turns light cat?

Before long, the gentleman looked in horror at Vera Liz, who was the same color as the lucky cat.

"Vera..." Before he could finish speaking, the gentleman saw that a pair of angel-like little wings had sprouted from the back of the Holy Light Cat. "Holy crap!" Isn't this food poisoning a bit too outrageous?

Veraliz seemed to finally realize something was wrong with her body.

"Hey?" With a loud bang, the Holy Light Cat with wings of holy light suddenly transformed into a streak of light and burst through the ceiling, becoming a screaming, wildly flying meteor.

What should I do? I set off the birthday boy like a firecracker...

The unexpected situation startled the gentleman, and in the end, he acted on instinct.

"How about we slip away?"

As if it had heard the gentleman's voice, the streak of light suddenly changed direction and rushed in from one side of the brick wall, heading straight for the gentleman.

"No way, the reckoning is already here! I'm innocent! It's not a prank! Really!!! Really!!!"

The gentleman was kidnapped by the shooting star cat, crashed through the south wall, and flew into the sky.

In the pitch-black night sky, magical light gradually illuminated the scene. The brilliance of the Arcane Eye, the radiance of the Silver Royal City, and countless points of light appeared beneath our feet, as if we had entered another world. But among all the lights, the most dazzling was the holy light that hovered freely in the sky.

What rang in the gentleman's ears was Veraliz's surprised voice.

"I'm flying! Avenrett! Can you see that?! I have wings! I'm flying!!!"

The gentleman then realized that Shadow Beasts couldn't transform into birds; they were wild beasts that roamed the earth and gazed at the sky. Flying, and having a pair of wings, was a rather novel experience for Veraliz.

The wings of holy light left trails of light dust in the air, and within the faint specks of light, it seemed as if everything Veraliz had experienced that day was playing back. There was no sadness; Veraliz's smile remained unchanged throughout the day, just like the light emanating from her now.

A smile appeared on the gentleman's face, along with the ease of having completed his task.

May she continue to be carefree and radiant in the future.

Happy birthday, Vera.

Chapter 476 Regional Boss

Violet didn't dwell on Ralf's seemingly baseless judgment, nodding in agreement to the intelligence about the existence of a vampire mole. The two were long-time partners, and Ralf's greatest strength was undoubtedly his exceptional work ethic. Ralf's personality prevented him from readily uttering speculations he wasn't certain of, unless he was intentionally deceiving someone.

"Regarding the mysterious power that caused the seal, firstly, its existence has been confirmed, and part of my power has been sealed; secondly, the test was successful, and this power is indeed mimicking a bureaucratic system similar to town management, although there is only one official, Sylvie." Ralf put aside the absurd sense of familiarity in his mind and continued to organize the intelligence. "We are now officially allied with the mayor of Dagonris as witchers, and have a certain degree of influence."

“It’s still hard to tell whether that pretty little girl with purple eyes is friend or foe, but I’m more inclined to believe she means no harm. I have no concrete evidence to support this,” Violet said, hands on her hips, giving Ralf a cheerful and optimistic smile. “It’s a woman’s intuition!”

Ralf covered his face. Violet was a female rogue. Whether in matters of the heart or in her work, acting recklessly seemed to be a habit of all the upper classes. Fortunately, her personality was as good as her luck.

“I remember you’re quite skilled with your sword, Violet.” Ralf retrieved a straight sword from a hidden compartment in the long box containing dragonfire. The sword was thinner and shorter than a typical longsword, resembling a flattened needle. It was pure silver, and crafting it had placed a considerable financial burden on Ralf, as it was custom-made for Violet. The blade still emitted a pungent, oily smell—a special oil refined through alchemy to harm vampires. Ralf wasn’t accustomed to using swords; he had prepared a small dagger for himself, tucked inside the belt of his trench coat.

"A gift?" Violet's eyes lit up as she held the silver sword, waving it around with obvious delight, almost slicing off the head of the victim statue.

“Weapons.” Ralf pointed directly at Violet. “I need someone to cover my charge, and you’re perfect for that.”

After exchanging information briefly, the two left the chapel.

Mayor Silvet of the small town of Dagonliss stood on a simple haystack, her mud-caked boots making the already rough haystack look even dirtier. Silvet's attention was focused on the townspeople; she was directing them through basic tasks. Time was of the essence; the sun, hidden behind the clouds, hung like a massive boulder over their heads, and when it dipped below the horizon, the dreadful night would begin.

The mayor was sweating profusely as he directed the work, and the townspeople followed his instructions, carrying out the harvest in an orderly fashion, their tasks clearly divided like ants. It looked like a magnificent scene of people working together as one to fight against disaster, if one ignored the numbness on their faces and the anxiety in Sylvette's eyes.

Two newly arrived bigwigs stood in the corner, commenting on everything Degonris did.

"weird."

“The young girl is too inexperienced. Her leadership skills are less than a tenth of her negotiation skills, and she has made her job more difficult. I now believe she is a temporary mayor. Not to mention you, Ralph, I could do a better job than her.”

Ralph's gaze was fixed on the group of people moving around. "They're quite skilled at their work. Even though Sylvie is practically giving nonsensical directions, their work is still proceeding in an orderly manner."

"Isn't this normal? This food is their only chance to survive. If they don't work hard, they will starve."

Ralph shook his head. "That's the biggest anomaly. The instinct for survival can indeed inspire human will, but most people are crushed by fear, which is why most dying struggles fail. The most efficient way to work is to maintain a calm and composed mind, just like now."

“They were not following Sylvette’s orders, but were working according to their own will.”

The group carrying the grain changed course, transporting the food to the surrounding houses, perhaps hidden in the deep cellars, and then passing by Ralph with the meager scraps of food, returning to the chapel, leaving behind the stench of rotting food on Ralph.

Sylvie jumped off the haystack and walked to Ralf and Violet's side. The melodious chimes came from the distant tower, and the sky was dyed blood red by the sunset.

"They've already set off so quickly; it feels like only a few hours have passed," Violet muttered to herself, complaining about her dulled senses.

“It’s nothing serious. The dark environment around Degonris remains unchanged. Only we natives can accurately control the time.” Sylvetra led the female sheriff into the chapel. “Night is coming, you two witchers. Night is the time of the cursed angels.”

Ralf surveyed the desolate landscape. At dusk, the sun's rays once again bathed the land of Dagonris in a crimson glow, and as the sun set, the "blood" seemed to drain away, gathering in a shadowy place beyond sight. "That bell tolled from the tower. Who's there?"

Sylvie looked puzzled, and then a citizen next to her quietly reminded the forgetful young lady.

"A strange bell-ringing man lives in that tower. He never comes down from the tower. In fact, as people keep dying, his existence is becoming a legend in doubt. We have never been there because some people who went to the tower to search for supplies never came out again."

“The East Tower and the bell-ringing monster inside…” Ralph glanced at the townsman standing next to the dazed Sylvie, who shrank back under Ralph’s gaze, hiding his deeply lined, aged skin behind a dark, coarse cloth.

"If I remember correctly, in addition to the main city, there are several large buildings that occupy the corners of Degonris in the four corners, including the East Tower."

“You’re right.” Sylvie locked the iron gate and moved through the crowded throng.

"The bell ringer of the east tower, the librarian of the west library, the caretaker of the cemetery on the north side, and the priest in the wine cellar on the south side."

"They've occupied four areas of Dagonris, and we've never met them. Some say they've found a way to survive the cursed night, others say..."

"They have turned into monsters."

"But don't worry, they never leave their respective areas. As long as we stay away from those dangerous areas, we'll be fine."

Violet curled her lips into Ralf's signature smile.

“My dear wolf, we have work to do.” The female sheriff stroked her newly acquired silver sword, the weapon she was handling and her terrifying expression causing the crowded people to tremble and move away from the two. “Shall we knock on the door with bullets or blades? I prefer to make house calls.”

Ralph's expression was indifferent, and his deep eyes seemed to devour the light.

"I knock on the door with my hand. I'm not a violent person. Force is just a last resort when my words fail to move someone."

Chapter 477 The Revelation of Blood

Night was like a cage, confining all living things in the narrow chapel of Drogonris. Ralph and Violet were squeezed in the middle of the crowd, and Sylvie gave him an apologetic smile from a short distance to his right.

It was too crowded here, like a can crammed full of pickled sardines, and Ralf could guarantee that the townspeople smelled far worse than salted fish. The only consolation... well, not really consolation, was that Violet, using the crowd as an excuse, pressed half her body against Ralf, and the floral scent brought by the morning light of Narancia was so strong it was suffocating.

“Wei’er…”