Chapter Two

I changed into a worn believer's robe, carrying a wooden box full of medical supplies, and blended into the Church dungeon.

The corridor reeked of blood and mildew.

Behind the iron bars were dozens of imprisoned civilians—a baker, a tailor, even a young mother holding a child.

Their charges were all the same: suspected heretic, colluding with the dark races, blasphemy against God.

In reality, only the Church knew how innocent they were.

I suppressed the violent killing intent in my throat and forced myself to keep my head down and move forward.

The vampire instinct wanted to tear apart every abuser here, but I couldn't.

My adoptive father said that kindness was more important than bloodline.

Elena was being held in the innermost cell.

She knelt on the ground, her white nurse's uniform already torn, whip marks on her face, burn marks on her wrists.

Captain Kyle stood outside the bars, holding a salt-water-soaked whip, kicking the iron door with his boot.

"Sign it," he threw a piece of parchment into the cell. "Admit you colluded with the dark races, and I can let you die quickly."

Elena raised her head, her eyes showing no fear, only defiance:

"I didn't collude with anyone."

"Stubborn?" Kyle sneered. "In three days you'll know what the burning stake feels like."

I stood in the shadows, my nails piercing into my palms.

Blood dripped through my fingers, igniting small black flames on the ground—the unique covenant of the vampire race.

With just one thought, all vampires would sense my presence.

But I stamped out the flames.

"Who's there?"

Kyle turned around, his gaze locking onto me.

I walked out with my head lowered: "Devout believer, here for a visit."

He looked me up and down, his eyes full of contempt: "Another bottom-feeder."

With that, he kicked over my medical box.

Gauze and medicine bottles rolled everywhere.

I didn't resist, just silently crouched down to pick them up.

Just then, footsteps came from the end of the corridor.

A group of white-robed clerics surrounded a cardinal walking over.

The cardinal wore a gold-trimmed red robe, holding a scepter in his hand.

He was paving the way for next year's papal election. This batch of "heretics" was his political capital.

Kyle immediately put on a fawning expression, turning to bow to the cardinal.

To curry favor, he suddenly reached out and tore off the pendant around my neck—the only relic my adoptive father had left me.

"Bottom-feeders dare to wear holy relics? That's blasphemy against the divine!" he said with a cold laugh.

I stared at the shattered pendant on the ground, a low growl rising in my throat.

The vampire instinct within me almost broke through the cage of reason.

But I held back.

I crouched down, picking up the pieces one by one and putting them in my pocket.

The cardinal noticed me.

He walked over, using his scepter to lift my chin, squinting as he examined me:

"You're that nurse's accomplice?"

"No." I said calmly.

"Liar." The cardinal sneered. "Kyle, bring holy water."

A cleric came over carrying a crystal bottle.

Inside was a white-glowing liquid specifically used to detect common vampire bloodlines.

Once it touched vampire skin, it would corrode flesh like sulfuric acid.

Kyle took the bottle, looking at me with anticipation on his face.

The cardinal raised the holy water bottle and splashed it directly at my face.

White light arced through the air.

The surrounding clerics and prisoners all held their breath.

Kyle wore a cold smile, waiting to see me kneel and wail, my skin festering.

The holy water splashed on my face.

Then—

"Hiss."

A light sound.

The holy water evaporated into white smoke instantly, like water droplets falling into lava.

My skin was completely unharmed, not even a red mark.

Kyle's smile froze on his face.

The cardinal's pupils constricted sharply.

The corridor fell into deathly silence.

I raised my head, looking at them calmly.

Pure royal bloodline was naturally immune to most holy relics.

It took my adoptive father eighteen years to suppress my instincts with specially made holy water.

And the Church's "high-grade holy water" was like ordinary tap water to me.

"This... this is impossible..."

The cardinal took a step back, his voice somewhat trembling.

But the next second, he forced himself to calm down.

He couldn't admit he was wrong, and he certainly couldn't show weakness in front of his subordinates.

So he took a deep breath and roared even louder:

"This very calmness proves he's a high-level demon! Lower vampires would be burned by holy water. Only true blood races can disguise themselves so perfectly!"

The surrounding clerics echoed: "The cardinal is wise!"

I closed my eyes.

When they believed you were guilty, anything you did was guilty.

Your crime was making him lose face.

But perhaps he never even realized that the words he used to save face were actually true.

"Guards!"

The cardinal raised his scepter. "Lock him in death row too! In three days, burn him publicly in the plaza with that nurse!"

Two holy knights rushed up and locked my wrists in shackles.

The cold iron chains cut into my skin, but I didn't resist.

Kyle leaned close to my ear, whispering with a cold laugh:

"Just wait, commoner. I'll burn you and that woman to ashes together."

They pushed me into the cell next to Elena.

The iron door clanged shut.

Elena looked at me through the bars, her eyes full of tears: "Why... why did you come..."

"Don't talk. Wait for me."

The corridor echoed with the cardinal's voice issuing a lockdown order:

"From now on, the dungeon is completely sealed. In three days, we'll execute them publicly and let the entire city see the fate of heretics!"