Under the emotional influence of the Poet of Great Love, Viscount Augustine was unexpectedly more angry than afraid.
Clearly, the long sealing spell earlier had allowed him to accumulate an unimaginable amount of rage.
"Speaking of witches... I remember now. I saw it in the Magic Book left behind by the Witch. You're an especially cruel vampire who loves stealing the children of young mothers, draining their blood dry in front of them, and then savoring their anger, despair, and blood."
Lanchi seemed to have finally finished explaining everything to the clergy and could now focus on dealing with Viscount Augustine. He spoke to him calmly.
There was no joy or anger in his voice, nor even much emotional fluctuation.
"So you want to judge me?! Human!"
As if he understood what Lanchi meant, Viscount Augustine struggled with the last of his strength and roared,
"You hypocritical, pitiful creatures! You keep justice on your lips while doing exactly the same things as the villains you condemn! Can you really say where I went wrong, and that you're completely right?!"
Hughberlian froze slightly when she heard Viscount Augustine's words.
She did not know how to refute him.
In this chaotic and dark age, rules were a game that could be trampled on at will. The strong truly did possess the right to uphold justice and judge right from wrong according to their own will.
If one wanted to deny the legitimacy of the strong ruling the weak, overthrow the vampires' rule, and establish rules and order to protect the weak, one could not avoid repeating the cycle of the weak being preyed upon by the strong and violence being answered with violence. One would have to carve out a bloody path, and in essence, the process would be no different from