NOVPUBIn the sanctuary of Lichtenstein Castle’s foundation layer, Lanci had given everyone a vividly illustrated hands-on lesson titled, "A Mummy-Making Process that Even a Three-Year-Old Can Understand".
After having the priest neatly seal away the extracted blood of the Earl.
Next, Lanci proceeded to start instructing everyone’s work arrangements.
Firstly, the business association’s three people were in charge of building the coffin for the mummy, using the cast iron room on the fourth floor of the castle.
The clergy members were in charge of improving the Earl.
Lanci and his group would prepare tomorrow’s activities, feasting and banqueting.
After everyone has worked overtime tonight, they can enjoy this wonderful holiday together.
Everyone felt a bit tired after this very fulfilling day, but knowing that they would have four more days to enjoy, everyone felt energized.
"Blood... return my blood to me..."
Count Paluocas’s voice was hoarse and weak, like a thin man in the throes of addiction.
"As they say, the harm caused by staying up late is really great, causing him such pain. Count Paluocas enjoys staying up late, so to correct his bad habit we have to stay up late with him tonight, causing harm to both ourselves and others."
Lanci looked at Count Paluocas on the ground, who was still trembling, and couldn’t help but sigh.
Hyperion didn’t quite know how to respond.
She had a feeling that Count Paluocas’s pain wasn’t just brought on by staying up late.
"Mr. Lanci, since the Blood Clan is immortal, they wouldn’t die even if they stayed up indefinitely. So for those of the Blood Clan who refuse to adjust their habits, could we let them try staying up for ten days or half a month without sleep? This will allow them to realize the importance of a good life rhythm on their own," the young master of the business association immediately started to generalize, asking Lanci a question on the side.
"Very correct."
Lanci nodded approvingly.
The phrase "virtue is a constant teacher, those who are good become a teacher" holds true. The young master of the business association seemed to have grasped the essence of winning people over with virtue.
"..."
Hyperion watched the pair of them, one eager to teach and the other eager to learn.
She felt that the number of normal people had just decreased again.
The young master of the business association had been slacking off all afternoon, hardly saying a word. Hyperion had thought him to be the least affected by Lanci, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was clear that he was severely infected.
...
In the world outside the window, it was still pitch-black. The castle’s courtyard and the distant forests were hidden in the darkness, the moonlight only illuminating their outlines.
In room number 202 on the second floor of Lichtenstein Castle where a member of the Rebirth Church was imprisoned.
It was exceptionally quiet.
The air was heavy with the smell of rust and blood. On the majestic decorations, the floor, and the walls were numerous splatters of blood, red, brown, and black. Each color a representation of a different time of suffering.
In the center of the room sat a petite girl who was unconscious in a chair, bound tightly by iron locks, chains, and shackles, unable to escape.
Her clothes looked as though they had been torn apart by a wild animal. The shoulder was tattered, and the once white robe of a priestess had been dyed deep red.
The source of all these stains of blood were none other than the many wounds on her body. Each one was deeply embedded into the skin, pealing back the surface to reveal bone-white flesh, which was painfully pale. The wound on her thigh was yet to heal, and it was like a crimson line that threatened to bleed at any moment.
In the middle of the night, it seemed like a cloud passed over the sky, allowing a weak moonlight to shine into the bedroom, illuminating the girl’s face.
The captive goddess officer of the Rebirth Church kept her eyes tightly closed, as if she were suffering unimaginable pain and torment in her dreams.
The sounds gradually drifted up from below, a faint clinking of iron chains, the creaking of wooden stair railings, and a faint murmur of conversation.
These quiet sounds were like a key, slowly unlocking the door to her consciousness. 𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙥𝒖𝒃.𝒄𝒐𝒎
" ..."
Her eyelids began to tremble slightly, gradually revealing the fog of unconsciousness. Slowly, her awareness started to emerge from the darkness and become lucid.
She reminded herself that she seemed to have come to an event in the Shadow World called [Sacred Hall Villains Banquet]. She was a Blood Clan Member who was tasked with betraying and killing challengers, and was expected to deliver the cruellest psychological and spiritual torture to the other challengers…
Then…
And then…
She didn’t want to continue thinking about it.
Like waking from a nightmare, she abruptly opened her heavy eyelids. The faint moonlight hurt her eyes.
" ..."
As her consciousness fully recovered, every detail in the room became incredibly sharp. She felt the cold metal chains that bound her and the freedom that have been taken away. She tasted the subtle wind in her ear and the piercing pain from her body.
Her once bright blue eyes were now lightless, filled with nothing but deep exhaustion.
The students of the Ichrite Academy were unimaginable beasts, capable of anything.
The Goddess Officer tried to speak, but it was as though a sword had been thrust through her lungs. Her breathing was interrupted and ragged, like the movement of sand in the wind, and the echoes of pain had already drifted from her body and become the stench of blood in the air.
"Damn ... thing..."
Although from her blocked mouth the words came out weak and unclear, they were filled with endless hatred, echoing throughout the dim room.
The girl’s face was as still as stone in the dim moonlight, rigid and lifeless.
Suddenly, as the sound of footsteps became clearer and closer, the tranquillity was broken like distant wind chimes.
They had the deliberate pace of a conqueror, like someone preparing to enjoy their final prey, supremely composed.
Undoubtedly, the Count of the Blood Clan had arrived.
Hearing the sound from outside the door, the Goddess Officer laughed, revealing a hint of insanity, her laughter was shrill and hollow.
She understood, her time of death was coming, yet all this suffering and humiliation would also come to an end.
Despite her fear of the three priests, she was relieved to know they, who had tormented her for so long, were dead.
Along with that damned Lanci Welfort.
She only felt satisfaction!
She slowly lifted her drooping head, aiming her gaze at the door, The door that the Count of the Blood Clan would enter.
For some reason, she felt no terror of the Count of the Blood Clan at all.
Click.
In the final moments as the door lock made the sound of metal twisting, she didn’t feel any fear, but a sense of relief. With the laughter still lingering, tears of bitterness and relief welled up in the corners of her eyes.
However, the next second.
Lanci, clutching the interrogation record, opened the door, looking at her in confusion.
"Young lady, do you have something fun to share with me?"
