Saying such things unasked to Arcueid, who had gone berserk from her bloodlust, lost both mental strength and power, and killed most of her own kind, was unquestionably taboo.
After all, the consequences of the last time she had been deceived still clung tightly to her like chains.
But Roland had not blurted it out without consideration.
Unlike Dead Apostles, who were manufactured life-forms, True Ancestors were born Dhampirs.
From a human perspective, of course, a way of survival that took others' lives to sustain oneself was undoubtedly taboo, something that had to be suppressed and rejected.
But for Dhampirs, drinking blood was an instinct like breathing or eating, entirely untouched by distinctions of good and evil or likes and dislikes.
Restraining one's desires a little to avoid indulgence and corruption was fine, but surely they could not actually starve themselves?
Thus, even True Ancestors who sided with the Church and helped it hunt down their fallen brethren would select suitable humans to keep, maintaining emergency blood supplies for unforeseen needs.
At most, they controlled how much blood they drank, ensuring the act did not become murder.
That was precisely why Arcueid had been tricked into trying blood in the first place.
Otherwise, however naïve she was, she would never have willingly violated a universally known taboo. Those fallen demon kings she hunted would have tried turning her long ago if that were possible.
Clearly, what truly made this True Ancestor princess resist drinking blood so fiercely was simply its consequences.
"Hah... hah..."
That was indeed the case. Though she had furrowed her brow, seemingly trying to express her displeasure, her unconsciously heavier, heated breathing betrayed her feelings.
A vivid blush spread across Arcueid's lovely face, sweeping away the lingering fatigue at the corners of her eyes.
Looking at Roland's