Chapter 191: A Frightening Affair with Vampires (Part 1)

  The female knight no longer wore that magic-gleaming Radiant Battleplate, but a suit of silver full-body armor looked just as majestic and conspicuous. Still that handsome and beautiful face that radiated heroism, waterfall-like golden hair, a posture even more upright than that of an ordinary man—she was like a statue completely out of place in the messy, noisy tavern. Someone like her, wherever she was, could be recognized at a glance as a Temple Knight.

  The few soldiers on the ground, moaning in pain from their beating, slowly moved away. They knew they were no match, and they could also tell that this woman was likely someone they couldn't afford to provoke. The people standing around on the sides and outside the tavern also pointed at her and discussed her amongst themselves.

  The female knight paid no mind to the numerous onlookers, just staring wide-eyed at the three people at the doorway, her hand already resting on the hilt of the sword at her waist.

  Just as the female knight had shouted, Ethan did indeed stand still, not moving. Because he knew that if the three of them turned and fled, the female knight would undoubtedly draw her sword and give chase without a second thought. Although he still wore a mask on his face, his figure, posture, and the subtle nuances of his movements were not deliberately concealed. To a master who had fought him before and had a deep impression, this was almost the same as wearing a label. And although the Drow's attire of a nomad from the Western deserts could fool those who had never seen her, the Temple Knight had crossed paths with her more than once or twice. Being recognized at a glance was absolutely unavoidable.

  If it came to a chase and flight in broad daylight, judging by the female knight's style, the matter would most likely only escalate. Even if they could escape in the end, it would more or less alert the newly arrived Cardinal, and then everything would become much more troublesome. So, although Luya and Jessica subconsciously wanted to rush toward the door, Ethan dragged them back, one in each hand.

  "The Lord says, those who show me grace shall have my gratitude in return." Ethan bowed, performing the gesture of a believer. "Your Excellency the Knight, it is truly a surprise to meet you here. I believe this must be the Lord's guidance. The Lord has guided us to resolve all past grievances and misunderstandings."

  The expression on the female knight's face indeed began to fluctuate. Her gaze also started shifting constantly between confusion and sharpness.

  "The Lord says, violence is the worst way to resolve things. All confusion and conflict can be saved through faith and communication," Ethan said again. "I think it would be better for us to sit down and talk privately. And you know that the worst way can only bring the worst results."

  The female knight's expression and gaze hesitated for another moment, and finally, the hand resting on the hilt of her sword was withdrawn. Although her demeanor was still guarded and vigilant, Ethan could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

  Although the meaning of these words was simple—that the female knight should remember he had saved her life before, and that if they were to fight now, she wouldn't gain any advantage, so it was better for everyone to find a place to talk things out clearly—it was actually quite difficult to convey this meaning in public without attracting attention. Ethan couldn't help but feel a bit grateful for the time he had spent as a cleric in the Magic Academy. Although he himself had no interest in studying scriptures, listening to the priests recite them every day, he had remembered some of it, and he never thought it would be of use at a time like this.

  More importantly, he didn't know if it was because he had racked his brains over the matter between the two elves these past few days, his eloquence and ability to think on his feet, which usually had no chance to be exercised, had been honed, allowing him to perform at this critical moment. At any other time, even he himself wouldn't believe he could have said such a thing.

  "Hmph, it just so happens I have a lot of questions I want to ask you. There are too many people here. Let's find another place to talk." Talise actually turned around and swaggered out. The tavern owner behind the counter chased after her for a step, seemingly wanting to say something, but in the end, he didn't dare to call out. He just looked at the mess on the floor, sweat already beading on his anxious face.

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  Ethan sighed, tossed a gold coin to the owner, and followed the female knight out. Luya and Jessica had no choice but to follow behind them.

  "This seems to be another brainless, self-righteous, rigid woman. Damn it, why do I have to be with these pretentious women whose heads are only used for growing hair? I told you we should have killed her long ago." The Drow said resentfully, looking at the female knight's back ahead.

  On this very night, in the royal capital.

  The darkness before dawn is the quietest time in the royal capital. The lights and the voices of people have all fallen silent. Only a very small number of people are still walking the streets. These people are generally either drunkards, soaked in alcohol and stumbling about, or dissolute young men indulging in sensual pleasures.

  Baron Thomason was undoubtedly both. From dusk until now, he had spent all his energy and time on wine and the Viscountess. This woman's face had flown into a flush after the first glass of wine, her eyes darting about, which greatly stimulated the Baron's fighting spirit. So he continuously urged her to drink, continuously showered her with flowery words and sweet nothings, and continuously drank and talked. But until he felt that even the blood flowing in his veins had been squeezed out by alcohol, and his tongue, from overexertion, had almost become a block of wood, the Viscountess was still in that half-drunken, half-sober state from the first glass of wine, steadfastly refusing to leave with Thomason to find another place to have a good heart-to-heart. Finally, the sound of carriage bells rang out from outside the tavern. The Viscountess flitted out like a butterfly, darted into the carriage of the Minister of Internal Affairs, leaving Thomason with only a hasty glance of flirtation and a "see you next time," and naturally, the rather considerable bill.

  See you next time, my ass. Next time I see her, I'll find someone to rape her... No, although Thomason was half-drunk, he could still distinguish that neither the Viscount nor the Minister's lover was someone he could afford to provoke. The concept of seducing a woman and raping a woman were completely different. So he could only curse and stagger home alone through the dark streets.

  Not much further ahead was home. Thinking of the Baroness, who was home alone, Thomason suddenly felt a bit guilty. Although this wife, married for less than three months, was just an accessory to his father's promotion, and her looks were even worse than a tavern serving maid, she was actually a decent person. At least at this time of night, there would still be a basin of hot water for him to wash up and go to bed.

  But just at this moment, the Baron suddenly heard a light sobbing sound from the darkness ahead. He raised the lantern in his hand to look and discovered a woman standing there in the corner of the wall.

  This woman was wrapped in a layer of black gauze, with only her face exposed. But it was just this face that instantly made the half-drunk Thomason completely sober, and then immediately, irretrievably drunk to the point of collapse. It was a face that should only appear in a man's dreams, beautiful to the extreme, delicate and enchanting to the extreme. The key was that the snow-white face seemed to reveal a transcendent aura, as if detached from the mortal world.

  Thomason was no longer the kind of boy who indulged in fantasies. In fact, as soon as he saw a woman's clothing, he would immediately associate it with her shape when naked; when he saw a woman's face, he could immediately imagine in his mind the expression she would make when moaning and crying out. He knew clearly that no matter how noble, pure, or moving a woman was, she was all the same when naked. But even he, who had long understood women so thoroughly, was completely stunned when he saw this face, completely drunk, more so than the wine that had cost him half a gold coin just now, making him feel as if he were walking on clouds.

  This woman was also looking at him, and it seemed she had already been watching him in the dark. Those soul-snatching eyes held a glint of tears, and the expression on her face was miserable and resentful, as if she had just been through a great sorrow. Thomason felt that his heart, his soul, were completely drawn to this face.

  "Miss, what's wrong? What's there to be so sad about?" Thomason mumbled, walking cautiously toward the woman, afraid that a sudden movement would scare this dreamlike, elfin woman away.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the woman said to him, crying, with tears sliding down from the corners of her eyes.

  "What are you sorry for? It's okay, it's okay." Thomason walked up to the woman. He felt his heart twitch along with the two tears on the woman's face.

  The woman didn't speak, just reached out both hands and placed them on Thomason's shoulders. Her face also slowly moved closer.

  "Miss, let's find another place to have a good chat," Thomason felt the body before him lean against his chest. Apart from seeming a bit cold, the soft, graceful contact had already sent his soul flying away.

  But then the hands on his shoulders slid up to his head and pressed down. He immediately involuntarily lowered his head. These slender arms were actually stronger than the well-muscled arm of the tavern owner from earlier. Then he felt two sharp sensations on his neck break the skin and pierce into the artery.

  What does this fresh trick mean? The Baron wondered groggily. Slowly, he could think of nothing anymore.

  Baron Thomason's body was discovered the next morning, lying against the wall on the side of the street. On his face was actually a very satisfied, very blissful expression. On his neck were two sharp holes, and all the blood in his body had been drained, not a single drop left.

  The only thing that could create such a corpse was a vampire. The royal capital was thrown into an uproar.

  The vampire incident that had caused a sensation across the entire eastern continent over a year ago had already left an indelible impression on everyone about the evil, terrifying undead monsters. The people who had witnessed the cruel slaughter of the vampire that day were all princes, dukes, and ministers. So, when this news spread, the state of alert and tension in the entire royal capital was imaginable.