The Frenzied Vampire

For a while afterward, since Owen had just become a Seer and needed to practice divination and study mysticism, Cyril had no choice but to set aside his plans of robbing the rich to aid the poor and focus on digesting the Apprentice potion.

Perhaps because he had digested his previous potion too quickly, Cyril was dissatisfied with the recent progress, which felt like it was crawling forward with agonizing slowness.

To speed up the digestion process, he even made a trip to the Cathedral of Holy Wind in Cherwood Borough, though he did not go inside.

The moment he reached the fountain square outside the cathedral, he felt a warning from his spirituality. If he truly dared to open a door in the cathedral wall, a bolt of lightning would definitely descend from nowhere and blast him into charred cinders.

That also made him think of another matter. The last time at Saint Samuel Cathedral, his act of "Opening Door" in the cathedral wall had definitely been seen by the Goddess of Night. The Goddess had simply been magnanimous enough not to hold it against him.

As for temperament, he felt that the Lord of Storms ought to learn from the Goddess what magnanimity and approachability meant.

Since his original plan would not work, the only way to digest the potion faster was to wander around Backlund after nightfall, trying to hasten the process through frequent use of his Beyonder abilities.

"Another day of working hard to digest my potion!"

After his siblings finished chatting at home, he silently slipped out of his room, picked a direction he had never gone before, and began today's acting journey.

Having barely left home and turned through a few streets, Cyril was still considering how to act in a way more suited to an Apprentice when he collided head-on with a young man whose eyes were bloodshot.

"Sorry... Uh, perhaps you don't need my apology."

Cyril opened his mouth, his voice somewhat stiff. Under the other man's gaze—full of extreme restraint, madness, pain, and bloodlust—he unconsciously took two steps back.

The young man across from him stared fixedly at him, the madness and greed in his scarlet eyes impossible to miss.

"Hah~"

"Blood... Give me... Run!"

He kept inhaling and exhaling, seeming to struggle to suppress the malice within him. The sounds from his mouth came in broken fragments, but quickly turned into a suppressed roar.

At the same moment, a warning from his spiritual intuition rang through Cyril's mind. Without the slightest hesitation, he pressed a hand against the nearby wall and slammed into it.

Whoosh~

The sound of air being violently torn apart rang out behind him. A pair of illusory bat wings flapped behind the blood-eyed young man, and his body trailed afterimages as he appeared where Cyril had just been, as if teleporting.

As he reached for Cyril, his nails abruptly extended by a segment. Strange mystical symbols and patterns covered them, making them resemble the claws of some dark creature.

A faint azure gleam flashed across the wall. Cyril entered the adjacent residential building, and the hand reaching after him grabbed empty air—but not entirely.

Cyril turned to look at the area around his shoulder blade. Two long, narrow wounds, stained with blood, had appeared there.

At the same time, he noticed that the skin around those wounds was rotting and becoming infected.

"Damn, it's poisonous!"

Crash!

He heard the sound of a neighboring window being smashed, along with a faint rush of wind. No, it was not wind—it was the sound of air being torn apart by incredible speed.

Instantly realizing that he had been targeted, Cyril pressed his hand to the wall and opened another door, leaving before the other party could rush over.

Bang!

Just as he left the room, a shadow burst inside and slammed into the wall with a bang, once again missing him.

On the street, Cyril had not run far before he heard the sound of air tearing behind him again.

Whether the scent of blood on Cyril had provoked him or he was angry over the earlier collision, this Vampire, who seemed to have fallen into a bloodthirsty state, had clearly set his sights on him.

"Damn it, are you ever going to stop?"

With a quiet curse, he pressed a hand against the brick wall beside him, then rolled sideways and slipped directly through the neighboring courtyard wall.

Using the surrounding houses and courtyard walls for cover and obstruction, Cyril barely managed to keep the figure with illusory bat wings behind him at bay.

"Really relentless, aren't you? There are so many people living on this street. Why are you fixated on chasing me? Does my blood smell better?"

"Grudge +1..."

"Next time I borrow the Cross of Unlight, I'll definitely stick it to you, extract all your characteristics, and turn this Vampire into a mobile supply pack in my eyes."

Though his words were merciless, he had no intention whatsoever of confronting the other party head-on. Even among Sequence 7 Beyonders, Vampires were the combat-oriented type, let alone when he was merely a weak and powerless Sequence 9.

"Roar~"

An incomprehensible roar came from behind him. He did not need to look back to know that this Vampire was now nothing more than a frenzied beast.

Warned by his spiritual intuition, Cyril rolled forward again. At the same time, he touched the wall of the house before him and opened a vague, intangible azure door.

He did not choose to enter it, instead rolling sideways once more.

Several illusory yet solid black shackles shot in from behind him, passing through the vague door embedded in the wall.

Having dodged the attack from behind, Cyril turned to look at the frenzied Vampire who had already closed in before him and softly recited a phrase in Ancient Hermes,

"Slumber!"

At the same time, an iron-black charm in his hand turned to ash. An invisible force immediately spread outward, and the surrounding darkness seemed to deepen. The faint sound of a choir echoed through the air, cleansing the mind and urging one toward sleep.

At that moment, Cyril scarcely dared to breathe. Fortunately, the hand with sharp nails that had pierced the skin on his chest stopped.

He had almost had his heart torn out.

Thankfully, he had moved quickly enough. Thankfully, the Slumber Charm he had bought at old Mr. Eye of Wisdom's gathering worked well enough.

He shifted backward, pressed one hand against the wall behind him, opened another "door" in it, and crawled through somewhat awkwardly.

Ignoring the homeowner who had heard the commotion and come downstairs with a weapon to investigate, he opened a door whenever he encountered one and passed through walls whenever he met them, fleeing toward the street on the other side of the building.

His destination was there. As long as he made it over, he would definitely be able to shake off this frenzied Vampire.

The moment he climbed out through a window of the building, he saw a figure with illusory bat wings behind it gliding toward him.

"Fuck!"

With a quiet curse, Cyril withdrew his gaze and charged toward the building diagonally across the street at his fastest speed.

Within two breaths, the two figures rushed into the building almost one after the other.

The next second, a pure and holy dawn lit up. The sudden brightness made Cyril instinctively close his eyes, bend over, and roll diagonally forward.

At the same time, two sounds of air tearing rang out one after the other.

Whoosh!

Bang! Bang!

Two impacts sounded out. One struck where Cyril had just been, while the other came half a second later from a nearby wall, accompanied by a pained groan.

Once his eyes had adjusted slightly to the light, Cyril hurriedly opened them and looked behind him. Two steps away stood a tall man holding a silver-white two-handed greatsword.

He wore the brown priestly robes of the Mother Earth Church and looked to be in his forties or fifties. His eyebrows were pale and sparse, while pronounced wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, cheeks, and mouth.

What drew the most attention was his height, which appeared to exceed two meters twenty. Combined with his sturdy build, even his loose priestly robes had become taut on him. Standing there, he resembled a small mountain and radiated immense pressure.

On the other side, against the wall beside the entrance, the frenzied Vampire who had been arrogantly pursuing Cyril moments ago now looked like a fly swatted by a flyswatter, taking in more breath than he let out.

Under Cyril's gloating gaze, he weakly fell from the wall.

The instant he touched the floor, thick black mist spread from his body and transformed into a swarm of illusory blood bats the size of palms, rushing toward the entrance.

The next second, silver dawn shone again, and every blood bat silently melted away within that holy, immaculate light.

At the same time, Cyril felt threads of stinging pain from his chest and back. Looking down, he saw wisps of black smoke rising from the wounds before dispersing into nothing beneath the silver-white dawn.

The corrosion and poison in the wounds had been purified.