Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Ralf, holding a torch, stood with the two men at the entrance, watching with amusement as the library began to burn.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap...

The hurried footsteps did not mask the faint sound; from the wall, a figure swooped down from the ceiling.

The librarian was easily brought to the forefront.

His limbs were long and slender, his twisted joints crawling rapidly along the wall with the speed of a water fly, but his bent legs resembled those of a spider. His torso was thick and fleshy, his abdomen swollen into a gourd shape by water retention, and his insect-like mandibles tore open the corners of his mouth, leaving a grotesque, clown-like smile on his face, though he now looked like a weeping clown.

Instead of attacking Ralph, he lunged at the books to put out the fire, letting out a piercing scream from his terrifying maw.

"Do you know what you've done?! These books are older than your great-grandfathers!! Arsonists!! Savages!!"

Faced with moral condemnation, Ralf delivered the Philosopher's Stone bullet.

“My great-grandfather has been turned to ashes, why don’t you old folks do the same?”

Then, the librarian dodged, his speed allowing him to easily dodge the bullets, making him virtually invisible.

Such a swift monster could easily plunge its short, blade-like forelimbs into Ralf's body, but he was currently putting out a fire.

Ralf breathed a sigh of relief and accepted the large bundle of torches that Violet had prepared.

Under the librarian's horrified gaze, he threw all the torches onto the surrounding bookshelves.

Ralf took out several small boxes from his coat, all of them containing dark Philosopher's Stone bullets.

“I have plenty of these,” Ralf said, adjusting his alchemical musket and stuffing a handful of Philosopher’s Stone bullets into the barrel. “Ready to dance, librarian?”

The roar of the dragon fire was incessant, and the flying shrapnel of the Philosopher's Stone formed a rain of destruction.

The library was burned to the ground.

As they left, Silvet happily held a sword hilt, while Ralph held a glowing Bible.

Chapter 485 The Hunt Ends?

The last hunt.

Sylvie sighed inwardly and followed Ralph south.

The priest in the wine cellar—this was the final revelation given to him by the Blood Angel in his dream; the last fragment of the Angel's Cursed Sword lay there.

Sylvie quickened her pace; only then could she keep up with those two long legs, and she gradually felt dissatisfied with her petite frame. After jogging a few steps to Ralph's side, Sylvie looked at his large hand swinging back and forth. The alchemical musket was held in his other hand, as an excuse to avoid the female sheriff's advances. Sylvie chuckled softly; this odd couple was truly amusing.

That's really interesting.

Ralf can easily deal with the last monster. He is a king slayer, and now he has the Philosopher's Stone bullet given by the legendary alchemist. No matter how powerful the priest in the cellar is, he cannot survive against this despicable man.

The priest's death was foreseeable, as was his own end.

The sinful bloodline of Loshutal, the end of Silvette Loshutal.

The days of frantically directing the townspeople to survive, and then falling asleep in soft blankets, were long gone. Finally, he could end Degonris's suffering, freeing himself and his cursed life from it all.

A slight emotion stirred within Sylvie, a touch of reluctance. The tale of the King's Slayer and the Alchemist lingered in her ears, and the sky beyond Dagonris wasn't just a vast expanse of gloom. The torrential rains of Cassandel, the sunshine of Narancia, the spires of Cassandel, the flower-lined pubs of Narancia—she longed to see them all. A hint of resentment swelled within her. Why was her memory only of the grayness of Dagonris? Why, just when she was already mired in gloom, did those different colors reappear in her sight? How awful this feeling of unfulfilled desire! Why must she be sacrificed to save Dagonris from its suffering?

Ugh, my eyes are so itchy.

Ralf's somber face flashed in her mind, his expression cold as he said, "I am your ally, Sylvie." Yes, Ralf and Violet were people of a different kind; they shouldn't be part of the tragic fate of Dagonris. I am the mayor of Dagonris, the mistress of this land. This is my duty, my mission. For the townspeople, for Ralf, for Violet, for myself, I must do it.

As Ralf moved toward his goal, he felt something strange in his hand. He turned his head and saw those beautiful purple eyes, their captivating charm undeniable, yet it did not shake the icy resolve in his gaze.

Sylvie grabbed Ralph's hand.

"What's wrong, little girl?"

"Could you slow down a bit? You're walking too fast." Sylvie kicked her leg; the white woolen stockings under her pleated skirt were already wet with dew from the grass.

"No." The girl's coquettishness had no effect on the monster uncle, and Ralf continued to maintain his own pace.

Sylvie smiled and continued to follow in Ralph's footsteps. Her hand was held in Ralph's palm, and the warmth and pull of his palm made the journey much easier.

……

The wooden door was kicked open, and the underground part of the southern wine cellar was much smaller than the upper part. After the upper structure had been dismantled by alchemy, all that was left for everyone was a small basement.

A figure was kneeling in the very center.

The robes of the priests of the Holy Light Church were stained with blood, and the cross emblem looked sinister against the crimson.

He maintained an ordinary human appearance, a middle-aged man with gentle eyes. Although his bald patch significantly diminished his charm, his high cheekbones and handsome nose still salvaged some goodwill. He was a typical holy priest and wise scholar, if one ignored the blood at the corner of his mouth and the sharp teeth revealed in his smile.

Ralph, holding a gun, blocked the main entrance, the only way out. The two women were behind him, peering into the basement through the gaps.

"Priest?"

The man had long since finished his prayers. He looked at Ralf with a gentle smile, which seemed eerie in the bloodstains. He did not take any further action, but simply watched.

“Yes, I am the fourth one. But I have a name. You can call me Shudeman. I used to be a pastor, and I still am, but the object of my prayers has changed, which may offend you.”

"No offense, but I don't believe in the Holy Light or vampires."

Schudman chuckled and pointed at Ralf, saying, "The fact that someone as straightforward as you wasn't burned at the stake is enough to prove the Holy Light's mistake."

Ralph replied coldly, like a zombie.

"Whether the Holy Light is right or wrong is none of my business, but your life or death is." Ralph gripped his musket tightly, his index finger pressed against the trigger. "Mr. Shudeman, do me a favor, will you die?"

"sure."

Schuderman maintained his smile, like a wealthy businessman giving a piece of bread to a poor man.

An unexpected answer is enough to cause people to relax their guard due to surprise, and so on.

But Ralph didn't, instead pushing his luck.

"If that's possible, Mr. Schuderman, could you raise your hands where I can see them, then lower your head and stay still until my bullet pierces your head?"

Schuderman smiled, but still chose to do as instructed.

“I have no ill intentions, sir. I understand how important my position is, and I am prepared to sacrifice myself.”

Ralf moved to a position about one meter away from Shudeman, pointing the musket at his forehead. At this distance, he might be torn to pieces by the priest's sudden attack, but he would definitely not escape the Philosopher's Stone bullets inside the musket.

Barring unforeseen circumstances, Schuderman was like a penitent facing death with equanimity, ready to be executed.

"A change of heart? Mr. Vampire." With the last one right in front of him, Ralf was no longer in a hurry. He knew very little about that so-called ritual, and the previous monsters didn't seem capable of harmonious communication. He needed information; information was more important than time.

Sylveth peeked out from behind Ralph, looking at the rational priest.

“He is not a native of Dagonris; he only arrived here recently.”

Schuderman also saw Silvet; his usually calm eyes flashed with a morbid fanaticism the instant they met, but Ralph's musket helped him remain calm.

"Seeing this determined young girl forging ahead with such strength, why shouldn't I help her achieve her goal? Miss Sylvie, you have potential, you can enjoy that gift, just like my students, you are also qualified."

"What qualifications do you have?"

“To become perfect, to become the opposite of God, to become the Antichrist.” Shudeman looked at the girl, a look of rapture on his face. Before Ralph could ask, he told her what he knew. “I followed the clues of the Antichrist here, and this journey has transformed me. This is my home. I originally thought I would be the first, but I was wrong. Countless others have gone before me. This is revelation, this is God's guidance; we have found our true home. Not long after, a refined servant of God brought us a ‘ladder.’ This is a gift, but we, with our defiled souls, are clearly not qualified. To become the Antichrist requires qualifications.”

"The qualification of the pure."

"The ladder given by the servants of God makes us purer, but we are still impure and cannot become the guide. We originally thought that such a pure person no longer existed, until not long ago, a new pure person was born. She is still my student. Happiness instantly filled my mind. I love her. I invited her with joy and watched her merge into us. She is our angel and the most important part of the ritual."

"As I said, dear Silvette, I have no more desires in my life, and my student is about to attain great transcendence. In that case, I am more than willing to dedicate myself to fulfilling your responsibility."

"But remember, no one can stop..."

boom.

The Philosopher's Stone bullet pierced Schuderman's brain, and he remained smiling until he turned to ashes.

"I can shut you up, and I can stop you."

Amidst the ashes, a blood-red gem and a cross pendant came into view.

Ralph took the cross and handed the jade ornament, which was clearly adorned with a sword, to Sylvie.

She was still confused.

"Why should he help us? Doesn't he understand that everything we're doing is to stop everything in the castle?"

Ralph shrugged.

"Because fanatics are extremely self-centered madmen who believe that what they believe is the truth, and the truth cannot be stopped."

A sinister glint flashed in Ralph's eyes; behind a mad facade often lay a profound purpose.

Nothing was found except that some evil Antichrist ascension ceremony might be taking place in the castle. Also, this vampire named Shudeman was too proactive.

Chapter 486 Another Bride

Fragments displayed in front of the sculpture of the victims: sword guard, blade, hilt, and ruby.

Silvette knelt before the statue and prayed devoutly.

A ball of light unfolded from the center of the sculpture's brow, slowly expanding until it enveloped the fragments of the sword and the praying girl.

Violet's eyes were blinded by the bright light, while Ralf simply pulled up his trench coat and wrapped his body completely in it, like a dark creature afraid of light.

The warm light quickly dissipated, and Sylvie continued to pray, but before her, the fragments had transformed into a beautiful longsword. Its surface, resembling holy silver, emitted a somber light, and the blood-red gem embedded in the hilt resembled an angry eye, closely joined with the wing decorations on either side to form a pair of wings of vengeance.

The sword of the angel's curse.

Sylvie opened her eyes, her beautiful amethyst pupils now imbued with a holy light. She stood up and bowed respectfully to Ralf and the other man, appearing as a mature nun. The haughtiness of a young lady had transformed into a gentle maturity; in an instant, she seemed like a completely different person.

"I'm afraid I can hardly repay the efforts you two have made for Dagonris. All I can do is end everything for Dagonris in a few days and set you both free. The angel has conveyed the ritual to me. I need to rest for two days. At that moment, I will use the angel's curse to kill the evil bloodline of Loshutar."

"Please wait patiently, it's all over, and Degonris is safe."

Sylvie smiled and held Violet's hand, gazing into her eyes, their joy evident in their gazes.

Ralph turned and walked outside.

"Mr. Ralph."

The girl's call made the wolf glare back.

The little girl who used to be so easily startled in front of Ralf no longer smiled; she remained calm and composed.