Chapter 7
It was Eugene's last day before coming of age.
“You again!”
“You never tire of coming here, do you?”
A growl.
Before her annoyed reaction could finish, the girl's empty stomach first answered.
“Still being stubborn? Aren't you hungry?”
“I don't need it.”
Having brought food several times, the mother and daughter seemed to have learned. They were kneeling in front of the bars, waiting.
Perhaps with their bodies and minds at ease, their usual demeanor was returning? Their posture was neatly composed. It felt less like the submission of the weak and more like a refined bow.
“Do you always attend to the Young Lady like that?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Lara, the mother, replied.
One could tell the status of a master just by observing the demeanor of the master's attendants. Even if she was a maid, it was unlikely to be a minor family if she had served so respectfully.
“You must be hungry. Come, eat.”
Lara politely accepted the food.
“Thank you, Sir Knight.”
Lani, the daughter, responded with a smile.
“Did I say I was a Knight?”
“You're not a Priest, you look strong, and you're merciful, so aren't you a Knight?”
“Oh.”
It was a simple yet surprisingly logical syllogism.
“I suppose I am a Knight.”
“My Lord. My child is still young, so...”
“She didn't do anything wrong, why are you like this?”
He reassured the unnecessarily nervous Lara and stepped back.
As he unwrapped the clean leaf packaging, a fragrant yet slightly pungent aroma wafted out.
“Wow!”
Lani exclaimed in admiration.
“Today's a special meal.”
He had made a long incision in the middle of a freshly baked oval bread. He stuffed goat cheese, vegetables, and roasted rabbit meat inside.
The sauce was a concoction of his own making. It was made by simmering tomatoes, rock salt, button mushrooms, honey, and vinegar. Though amateurish, its sweet and sour taste was enough to make it a delightful relish.
“It's so! So delicious, Sir Knight!”
Lani expressed her delight with a happy face, while Lara quietly chewed, mindful of her mistress. But Lara's face was also very bright.
“This is a dish I've never seen before. What do you call it?”
The girl seemed quite interested as well.
“A savory bun. Though it's been adapted to local circumstances.”
“I've never heard of such a dish.”
“Want to try some? I have one for you too.”
“No.”
“You really are stubborn.”
“It's not stubbornness, it's pride.”
“Well, I understand it's a formidable spirit.”
If I were in her shoes, I would have gobbled it right up.
“I didn't expect much anyway. Instead, I brought something else.”
Eugene rose from the chair and stood before the iron bars.
“My Lord, if there is anything you wish to give the Young Lady, please, to me...” “I understand your sentiment, but this I must deliver myself. Stand back.” “Yes.”
Lara obediently bowed her head and complied.
“You'll give it to me directly? Do you have the key?”
“Hardly. You're a valuable prisoner to be used in an important ceremony soon. Would they give the key to someone who just comes to clean?”
“Then don't bother. Nothing you bring out will shake my resolve. I will not go to you of my own accord.”
The girl, as always, leaned against the wall, far from the bars.
“It's humiliating enough to be captured by the dogs of the Principal Religion; I'd rather starve to death than live on pity.” “If you say that, what does that make the other two?” “Lara and her daughter are excellent retainers. It's simply that their duties differ from mine. I did not mean to insult them.”
At her words, the mother and daughter bowed respectfully.
Priests, Knights, Nobles.
Each had his or her own firm logical framework, never doubting what he or she believed to be right.
“We'll see about that.”
Eugene grabbed two of the iron bars directly in front of him. The spacing was wide, but the bars were thick.
“What are you trying to...”
For the first time, the girl's consistently calm face was filled with shock.
Screeeech.
The thick iron bar easily bent and pressed against the adjacent one.
Lara, clutching her daughter, watched with disbelieving eyes.
Eugene, having displayed his monstrous strength, pushed his upper body into the gap with an unconcerned expression.
Thump!
“Oh. I can't fit.”
Even though he had pried open two iron bars, his sturdy physique meant his torso got stuck.
He stepped back and gripped two bars in each hand. His hands were as large as his build, easily able to grasp two at a time.
Screeeeeech!
As he exerted force, a total of four iron bars were pushed aside.
Ping!
He stopped applying force when he saw one metal pin fixed to the ceiling pop out. The space was already wide enough.
“Oh, Ancestor God.”
Lara closed her eyes and murmured as she watched Eugene enter through the gap.
“Do you believe in gods too?”
“Pardon?”
Lara, who had retorted with a blank expression, was startled.
“Oh, yes! We do believe! We believe too! However, the Ancestor God is not a god. He is a great progenitor, second only to one.”
Lara's polite demeanor became even more cautious.
Lani, nestled in her mother's arms, looked up with sparkling eyes, as if seeing a mythical hero from her grandmother's tales.
Eugene knelt before the girl and took a goblet from his pocket.
“If you intend to tempt me with wine, give up.” “I was thinking of offering blood, though. I thought that might tempt you.” “Are you serious?”
The girl looked at Eugene with wavering eyes.
“You would give me *your* blood?” Her consistently cold demeanor vanished as if it were a lie, replaced by excitement.
“Why? Do you want to drink it?” “To refuse the blood of a Knight as strong and merciful as you is not prideful, but foolish.”
It seems the way to move a noble girl's heart isn't kindness, but monstrous strength.
“I'm sorry, but I have no such intention.”
The girl's face visibly fell in disappointment.
Godfrey had told him that exceptional Vampires could even cast Magic through bloodsucking.
Even a half-blood Dhampir is still a Noble. There's no telling what problems might arise if I gave her my blood.
“Then what blood do you intend to give me?” “How about this?”
Eugene pulled a Field Mouse from his pocket. Homi had caught it in a trap; it was plump and likely full of blood.
“...”
The girl's face, which had just shown favor, stiffened.
“It's not a dead mouse. It's a fresh one, sedated with herbs. It's been thoroughly cleaned, so it won't smell.”
“Are you trying to insult me?! How dare you offer a noble of high birth a lowly creature that crawls through the sewers!”
Despite her starvation, her voice boomed with surprising strength.
“Calm down. I'm not just going to give it to you like this.”
You have to slice vegetables and add dressing to make a salad; just throwing raw vegetables at someone would earn you scorn, wouldn't it?
I had no intention of telling her to just suck the Field Mouse Blood directly.
However, the enraged girl did not reply. It seemed the goodwill he had painstakingly built up had vanished in an instant.
Eugene drew a dagger from his pocket. It was a ceremonial item used in the Monastery's festival for sacrificing lambs.
Swish.
A flash of light cut through the dark Underground Prison. The Field Mouse's head fell, and fresh blood gushed out.
“Oh!”
Lara, who often cut meat in the kitchen, was surprised by the clean cut. It was by no means easy to cleanly sever something small and soft while holding it in one's hand.
Trickle.
A red spring filled the goblet.
Watching the mouse's twitching feet as it was held upside down, the girl felt her anger flare again.
“The value of a dish depends as much on skill and care as it does on ingredients. Even common fish or eggs can increase their value tenfold, even a hundredfold, with an Artisan's touch.”
Eugene thought of the culinary arts practiced in distant, more refined lands. He'd heard of dishes where common ingredients were transformed into feasts fit for kings with patience and skill.
“What nonsense are you spouting? Fish is fish, and eggs are eggs. The quality of a dish is determined by its ingredients!”
Filled with anger, the girl said.
“Well, perhaps here.”
When compared to his former world's, this world's food culture was far inferior.
“Again, I have no intention of insulting you. It's just that a mouse was the only creature I could easily catch alive, had plenty of blood, and was small enough to conceal.”
The girl sharply turned her head away. Such an excuse seemed insufficient to appease her anger.
Eugene, having collected all the blood, held the goblet with both hands. He made his mother's legacy, the Witch's Power flowing in his veins, surge.
*—The other side of the world is full of mysteries, my child, a terrifying place that cannot be reached while maintaining one's human body and mind.*
He recalled the words he'd heard before bed in his childhood.
While ordinary mothers would sing lullabies or tell fairy tales to their young children, Eugene's mother was a Witch. She whispered secret and mysterious knowledge to him.
—To fear it but not avoid it, to revere it but keep your distance. Then the otherworld will reward us with its mysteries. That is why we can have a freer and deeper perspective than the narrow-minded servants of gods.
But did Eugene's mother know that her son was a soul who had traversed the deepest parts of that terrifying and mysterious place?
A great Witch who could cure even leprosy. A saint said to have communicated directly with God. A legendary Mage who conjured oases in the Desert.
He was one who had observed the otherworld more clearly than any of them.
Eugene recalled the Abbot blessing water to turn it into holy water.
Now, he imitated it, but with a different will, not one of reverence for a god.
“*In nomine Patris.*”
A short phrase changed everything in this space.
The girl, who had turned her head away in disdain, widened her eyes and stared at Eugene.
“*Et Filii. Et Spiritus.*”
Each time his lips moved, the stench of the Underground Prison was driven away, like petty demons before divine radiance.
“*Sancti. Amen.*”
The composed noble girl has shown a surprised expression three times today.
First, there was awe at Eugene's divine power.
Next, there was anger at his producing a Field Mouse.
“*In nomine Infernum.*”
Now, one felt ecstasy from the aroma wafting from the goblet.
“*Et amissis animabus.*”
The goblet was held in Eugene's praying hands. An inexpressible power resided within the blood it contained.
It was not like the Divine Grace displayed by renowned Bishops. It was far deeper, darker, and sweeter.
Wriggle.
A worm the size of a pinky nail crawled out of the goblet.
Wriggle, wriggle.
A second, then a third worm crawled out and fell to the ground. The parasites contained in the Field Mouse Blood had been swept away by the Dark Blessing.
The tiny parasites were imbued with demonic energy, reborn as demonic creatures.
The worms, as if awed by Eugene reciting the Dark Benediction, fled into the sewer drain where filth flowed.
They had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, no anus. They were creatures that should not have existed in the first place. Even if left alone, they would cause no harm to the world and would starve to death.
Gulp.
The girl could not tear her gaze from the goblet Eugene held.
Purified by the Dark Benediction, it tempted the girl like the blood of a god. Its aroma was so captivating it seemed to permeate her nostrils, lungs, brain, and even her soul.
“Drink it while it's fresh.”
Eugene offered the goblet.
*Can I truly accept something so precious?*
The girl didn't even think to take it with her dirty hands; With her face, she simply leaned forward.
“Haaah.”
Her parched lips parted, revealing pristine white fangs. A long, red tongue emerged between them.
A posture excessively alluring for a girl in her late teens. Truly, she was one of the Nobles of the Night.
Tap.
Eugene delicately tilted the goblet, and a single drop fell onto the tip of the girl's tongue.
Her hollow eyes trembled, and her nostrils adorably flared. Her small, dark bare feet curled up tightly.
When Eugene offered the goblet to touch the girl's chest, she accepted it like a holy relic.
The contemptuous look she had for the blood of a lowly creature was long gone.
Gulp, gulp.
She drank it preciously, including the sleeping potion it contained, as if not a single drop could be spilled.
*Success.*
He looked beside him and saw that the mother and daughter were also peacefully asleep. The savory buns they had eaten had also contained a sleeping potion.
Today was the day to infiltrate the Sealing Chamber. To eliminate even minor disturbances, he needed to put the three women to sleep.
Thud!
Behind him, he heard the sound of the goblet falling. The girl, who had been leaning back with a vacant expression, closed her eyes and slowly toppled sideways.
Normally, hunger makes one sleep easily. In her state of extreme starvation, tasting the sleeping potion and the exquisite blood instantly caused her consciousness to fade.
Eugene exited the Prison, restored the bars to their original position, and opened the Secret Passage in the corner of the Monastery Basement.
If I raid the Sealing Chamber, there'll be no turning back. I won't be able to return to the village again.
But his resolve was already firm. Eugene stepped inside without hesitation.
***
Meanwhile, Homi spotted something strange from atop an oak tree. Something was stirring on the eastern horizon of the village.
Leap!
Homi immediately descended from the tree.
In this era, the moment one left civilization, countless dangers awaited, from wild dogs and wolves to large and small monsters, bandits, deserters, and even rogue knights.
Even Merchants with Mercenaries refrained from night travel; there was no way an ordinary person would wander around at night.
Homi immediately recalled the Dhampir prisoners Eugene had mentioned. Following her instincts' warning, she ran to the Cabin.
She gathered the sword Eugene had left behind, the money she had saved, and a first-aid kit containing hemostatic agents, bandages, and pain-relieving powder.
Though there was much she wanted to take, her priority now was to rush to her Liege Lord's side.
Homi climbed the oak tree again to observe. Now, she could clearly see the approaching figures.
A well-armed troop of cavalry was riding towards the village.