Unlucky People and an Unlucky Vampire

Before the holy emblem of life, composed of wheat ears, flowers, spring water, and a cradled infant.

Cyril performed the ritual gesture of the Church of Mother Earth with somewhat clumsy movements, then "piously" thanked the Mother for Her grace, casually placing all 2 pounds and 13 shillings of paper money he had on him into the offering box in front.

After finishing this, he turned back to look at the priest, whose tall stature remained imposing even while seated, and said with some trepidation:

"If I said I just wanted to come and pay my respects to the radiance of the Mother, would you believe me?"

The tall, half-giant priest looked at him without much expression on his face; it was impossible to tell if he was happy, angry, or indifferent.

The two stared at each other for a moment, and he sighed helplessly: "Alright, I will compensate for the damage caused to the church just now."

"Also..."

He looked at the Vampire who had fainted at the priest's feet, his eyes filled with speechlessness, anger, lament, and sympathy.

He felt he had likely recognized the origin of this Vampire; although the guy looked quite wretched now, a closer look revealed that his features were actually quite good.

Black hair and red eyes, his messy locks carrying a sense of fragile brokenness amidst the disarray. He looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, handsome with slightly feminine features, a high nose bridge, and thin lips.

With this appearance and this streak of bad luck, he should be the future Mr. Moon of the Tarot Club.

Thinking of bad luck, Cyril felt he was quite unlucky himself; he had only gone out to digest his potion when he ran into a Vampire who had gone mad from not feeding for too long, and the creature had fixated on chasing him alone.

While he was lost in thought, the half-giant priest handed him an empty bowl. Under Cyril's puzzled gaze, the priest explained simply:

"He has fallen into a blood-thirst state, which is why he went mad. If he cannot replenish his blood in time, he will likely lose control permanently."

Cyril looked at the empty bowl in front of him, and he seemed to understand what the priest meant:

"So, in the end, I still have to feed him with my blood?"

The priest opposite him nodded slightly: "The blood of a Beyonder, rich in spirituality, is more effective. You don't need much, half a small bowl will suffice."

"Consider this a penalty for bringing a Vampire into the church. It would be best not to be so reckless in the future."

"Furthermore, this is also one of the meanings of the Mother's radiance: life is precious."

"When conditions permit, saving life and extending life is our duty."

Cyril didn't speak again. Facing a priest who could swat away a Vampire like a fly, he felt he didn't have much say in the matter.

Taking a deep breath, he took the empty bowl, placed it on the table in front of him, and then picked up a sterilized small knife, cutting a slit in his wrist.

Warm blood immediately spilled out, and soon, half a small bowl was filled.

Seeing that enough blood had been drawn, he looked up at the priest: "Do you have any hemostatic potion?"

The priest nodded gently and took out a bottle of greenish potion from behind him: "Sprinkle half on the wounds on your body, and take the other half orally."

"Umm..."

The Vampire lying wretchedly on the ground twitched his nose, his slightly parted lips emitting a weak, hoarse sound.

Cyril glared at him with a sour mood; in the end, he hadn't escaped the fate of being bled.

However, fortunately, the Church of Mother Earth had limited influence in Loen. Although he had exposed his identity as a Beyonder in front of Father Utravsky, he had no malicious intent and had even shown interest in the faith of the Mother, so the priest shouldn't do anything to him.

While he was contemplating his future, Father Utravsky had already fed the half-bowl of blood into the mouth of the Vampire on the ground.

Replenished by the spiritual blood, the Vampire, who had gone mad from blood-thirst, quickly regained consciousness and recovered his sanity.

He propped his body up and looked around blankly, then lowered his head to touch his chest, which was still aching. Fragmented memories flashed through his mind, and he finally realized his current situation.

Before he could speak, Cyril spoke first: "Father, lock him in the basement. A blood-thirsty Vampire is too dangerous."

"If it hadn't been me he encountered this time, someone would surely have met with misfortune..."

Before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by the Vampire sitting on the ground: "Bastard, if I hadn't been delayed by running into you, how could I have lost control of myself?"

Seeming to realize he lacked presence this way, he stood up from the ground, his body aching all over, and glared angrily at Cyril with his crimson eyes:

"Also, I am Sanguine, noble Sanguine!"

"I will compensate you for the harm and losses caused to you, at most..."

Before he could finish, Cyril interrupted him: "300 pounds."

The red-eyed Vampire glared at him in disbelief: "Why don't you just go rob someone?"

Cyril crossed his arms and looked back at him: "Isn't that what I'm doing right now?"

Vampire: "Bastard! You..."

Cyril interrupted him again: "Don't be so irritable. Mind your status. You are a wild Beyonder, and now a captured wild Beyonder at that, and this is the church of Mother Earth."

The Vampire opposite him turned red and then white, repeatedly opening his mouth to speak but stopping, until he finally squeezed out:

"Don't you know it's impolite to interrupt others?"

Cyril nodded noncommittally: "Can't you tell I'm doing it on purpose?"

Vampire: "Bastard!"

"You're quite polite yourself, only knowing how to use that one word when cursing."

Cyril looked at the gritting-teeth Vampire and sighed thoughtfully, and then the Vampire turned bright red.

"You damn bastard, I, I..."

His words were interrupted once again, but this time by Father Utravsky:

"Gentlemen, please restrain your emotions; this is the cathedral of the Mother."

Cyril looked at Father Utravsky, who sat there like a small mountain, and apologized very sincerely:

"My apologies, I shouldn't have lowered myself to argue with a Vampire."

The Vampire beside him glared at him, but hindered by Father Utravsky's authority, he could only mutter a soft retort:

"You... you mark my words, I am Sanguine, Sanguine!"

Cyril shrugged, suddenly losing the desire to tease this Vampire... It felt like bullying a child, which was hardly satisfying.

After a pause, he looked at Father Utravsky: "Father, may I leave now?"

Father Utravsky chuckled and nodded: "Of course, you have always been free."

"If you are truly interested in the radiance of the Mother, you can find time to come here and listen to my sermons later. Perhaps one day, you will truly feel the preciousness of life and the joy of the harvest."

"I will." Cyril nodded gently, then bowed solemnly to thank him:

"Thank you again for your help; otherwise, I might have been in danger tonight."

The priest nodded lightly: "I am the bishop here, and also a priest. You may call me Father Utravsky."

Although he had already known this, Cyril still nodded earnestly before stepping out of the cathedral.

After he left, the unlucky Mr. Vampire secretly shuffled back two steps. Seeing that Father Utravsky showed no reaction, his courage suddenly grew. As he turned his body, thick black mist billowed from his back, forming a pair of illusory bat wings, and he darted toward the cathedral gate at high speed.

The next second, the entire prayer hall of the cathedral was filled with clear, holy morning light. The illusory bat wings behind Mr. Vampire dissolved into black smoke, and he lost his balance, crashing to the floor.

Father Utravsky walked over unhurriedly, his broad palm grabbing the back of the Vampire's neck, just like a farmer casually snatching up a chick.

"That gentleman was right; a Vampire who cannot control his own state is quite dangerous to the ordinary people in this city."

"I... cough, cough~, damn priest, let me go..."

"The Sanguine will not let you off..."

Ignoring the impotent rage of the Mr. Vampire in his hand, Father Utravsky carried him toward the cathedral's basement.

On the street outside the Harvest Cathedral, Cyril felt the progress of his potion digestion increase significantly within his body and let out a long breath.

"Although it was thrilling, the harvest was indeed good. If it happened one more time, I reckon my Apprentice potion would be fully digested."

"Uh... never mind. Sometimes, digesting potions in a plain and simple way is quite nice too."

"Is that so? It seems you aren't too satisfied with the gift I prepared. That is truly heartbreaking."

The sudden voice interrupted Cyril's thoughts. When he turned his head, he happened to see a postman standing under a nearby streetlamp, carrying a messenger bag and wearing a monocle over his right eye.

∑(°△°|||)︴

Holy crap, the monocle freak, save my life!

"Am..."

Before he could even finish the first syllable, his voice vanished.