Under the emotional stimulation of the Poet of Great Love, Viscount Augustine now felt more anger than fear.
Clearly, that long period of sealing had allowed him to accumulate unimaginable resentment.
Lan Qi, as if finally done with explaining things to the clergy and now free to focus on Augustine, said to him lightly:
“Speaking of witches… I recall reading in a magic book left by one that you were an exceptionally cruel vampire. You loved to snatch away young mothers’ children, drain them of blood right before their eyes, and then savor their anger, despair, and blood.”
His tone carried no joy or anger, no emotional fluctuation at all.
“So, you want to judge me? Human?!”
Augustine seemed to understand Lan Qi’s implication. He struggled and roared with the last of his strength:
“You hypocritical, pitiful creatures! While you loudly proclaim justice with your lips, you do the very same things as the villains you condemn! Can you truly say where I was wrong—and are you entirely right?!”
Hearing this, Huperion paused slightly, at a loss for words.
She couldn’t think of how to refute Augustine.In this chaotic, dark age, rules were but a game trampled at will. The strong did indeed possess the right to enforce justice and decide right from wrong by their own will.
If one wished to deny the legitimacy of the strong ruling the weak—to overthrow vampire domination and establish rules that protected the weak—one could not avoid using violence against violence, carving a bloody path. In essence, it was no different from what the vampires did—only birthing a stronger being to reverse the hierarchy and rule the vampires instead!
In this age, one could only be a tyrant. There was no road to becoming a benevolent emperor.
The three clergy present were equally unable to answer.
If Augustine were wholly an evil creature like those of the Resurrection Church, perhaps they would have been firm, believing slaughtering vampires to be heaven’s mandate.
But his words left them shaken. Were their righteous deeds, in fact, a betrayal of righteousness?
“……”
However—
A faint smile appeared on Lan Qi’s face.
“I never said I wanted to proclaim justice, nor did I declare you to be evil. I only believe that love can create miracles. Right now, I am using love to redeem you—hoping you’ll become kind and friendly.”
His voice was filled with compassion, as if offering Augustine salvation.
“…?!!”
The Viscount, who had still held some defiance—believing Lan Qi a messenger of justice—now trembled.
If his opponent argued morality with him, at least he could attempt to shake their mind with words.
But this time, what he faced—
Was a complete lunatic.
One who could not be reasoned with, whose mind would not waver for any enemy!
“Poet of Great Love, help me train Viscount Augustine a little.”
Lan Qi spoke to his spiritual partner.
“For something like this, you’ve found the right demon! I’ll make sure he’s well-trained!”
The Poet pressed a finger to his dimple, smiling with blissful sweetness.
Meanwhile, Frey had already drawn enough of the Viscount’s blood.
Lan Qi dispelled the Radiant Virtue summon, and the forgotten colors of the bedroom returned. Candlelight flickered faintly, spilling its glow on the carved wooden canopy bed.
Portraits and tapestries hung on the wall, blurred in dim light, their painted figures silently watching. On the desk, manuscripts and a quill lay waiting for their absent master.
“By the way, Viscount Augustine—you said earlier that the vampire lying in this bed was weak?”
Lan Qi tilted his head toward the bed, glancing at Augustine on the floor.
“…Is he not?”
Though filled with dread, Augustine forced one last show of pride—he couldn’t allow mere humans to intimidate him.
Lan Qi patted the mummy-like figure on the bed and asked as if interviewing:
“Count Palocas, as his senior, do you have anything to say about Viscount Augustine?”
“…Augus…tine… hello…”
The mummy’s throat rasped, voice hoarse. But midway, it nearly gave out, as if at death’s door.
“…Count?”
Fear filled Augustine’s crimson eyes, nearly bulging from his sockets.
That fleeting flash of magical pressure was unmistakably of count-level vampire class!
Augustine recalled the ring Lan Qi had shown him earlier—the Count’s own. Slowly, he pieced the truth together.
And then—utter despair.
Just seeing the once mighty Count Palocas reduced to a fate worse than death made Augustine’s face pale with horror, both physical and mental.
At last, he truly realized the peril he was in. The fear pressing on him was hell itself, almost enough to break him.
But it was too late. Nothing could be undone.
All his confidence, his arrogance, his pride shattered in that instant. His scarlet eyes lost their luster.
“See how Count Palocas has become so gentle and kind? That is the power of love.”
Lan Qi’s voice was filled only with goodwill, never once with hostility.
“Listening to Mr. Lan Qi’s words—is better than ten years of church study.”
The executioner, paladin, and priest observed, enlightened anew.
Their practical skills had already leveled up—but now their faith itself seemed sublimated.
“There is no right or wrong, no good or evil. Only love is eternal. Only love is miraculous… Now that we understand this truth, evil spirits can never sway us again!”
“Viscount Augustine, come join the glorious evolution.”
The three clergy, holding tweezers, pincers, and scalpels, smiled with crescent eyes above their masks.
Their aura was now utterly complete.
“No… NO!!”
The Viscount’s scream rang out like the most wretched curse from the abyss, piercing the heavy stone walls, echoing across the mountain’s night sky.
Outside, the endless forest and sea of clouds remained, bathed in moonlight.
The night was serene, the moonlight pale, shrouding Lichtenstein Castle in mystery.
The sun would rise again tomorrow.
Everything would be warm and beautiful once more.
The tall spires, finely carved windows—so tranquil in the breeze, the leaves rustling like whispers of a fairytale.
Only the shadowy silhouettes behind the curtains depicted the unspeakable ritual.
Thus, the curtain fell on this “Shadow World” scene.
…
Ikerite Academy
2 a.m. A few lonely stars glittered in the distance. The silhouette of the Sage Institute’s main building blended into the night, save for the lit window of the top-floor conference room.
The glass reflected flickering light from the magical screen within. When the screen dimmed, the reflection faded into the night.
Most teachers had already left. Only a few remained at their round tables.
Dean Loren was still there.
Hands clasped beneath his chin, he watched as the three clergy treated Augustine like seasoned surgeons—one more job, one less care.
“…Enough. I won’t watch Lan Qi’s Shadow Worlds anymore. Whatever he does, I don’t care. Whoever asks me—I don’t know Lan Qi.”
Finally, Loren pressed his hands to the table, stood, and left. His voice carried exhaustion.
But the others knew—
The Dean wasn’t tired. He was numb.
And if even the most honest and good-natured Dean Loren had begun avoiding responsibility, then perhaps… he, too, was no longer entirely human.