Chapter 7: The prey that came to your door

“…Who are you?”

Ina perched on the edge of the bed, the dagger at her throat keeping her still.

The moment felt surreal.
What even is today?
How could so much happen in a single day? Is my luck really this bad?

Come to think of it, that lottery near the Royal City Church, boasting a “99% win rate,” had only ever given her consolation prizes…

For a fleeting moment, she wasn’t sure whether to call herself unlucky or oddly fortunate.

“I saw you once at the capital’s branch church, but I’m sure you don’t remember me.”

The shadowy figure leaned closer, his bloodshot eyes glinting with menace.
“I never thought you’d betray the Church.”

“Huh? I didn’t—”

Ina tried to protest, but he cut her off.

“Don’t bother denying it! I saw you cozying up with that filthy vampire earlier!”

The man, likely a Church zealot, tightened his grip on the dagger.
“Since you’ve turned traitor, I’ll have to kill you!”

The cold blade pressed against Ina’s throat, her mind racing for a way out.

She began secretly channeling her magic.
If push came to shove, she’d detonate it in a desperate bid for survival.

Her combat skills and magic reserves weren’t exceptional, but as a Saint, she had a few tricks to preserve her life.

Worst case, she’d be bedridden for days—better than dying at the hands of a fellow believer, right?

Steeling herself, Ina prepared to confront the zealot, who seemed deaf to reason, when a massive, unfamiliar wave of magic engulfed the room.

What is this power?

“I knew you couldn’t resist!”

Bang!

The room’s window shattered, blood-red energy flooding in, coating the space in crimson.
A scarlet figure leaned against the windowsill, glaring coldly at the zealot.

“What?! You’re that vampire?!”

Cynthia’s sudden arrival distracted the man, his grip on the dagger loosening.

Seizing the moment, Ina thrust out her palm, unleashing a burst of magic that sent the zealot stumbling back with a groan, losing his hold on her.

Though her strike didn’t cause serious harm, it delivered a solid impact.

“You…”

The zealot swayed, dizzy, but still aimed his dagger at Cynthia.
He knew the vampire posed the greater threat.

“Your kind hasn’t changed. Assassins of the Holy Slaughter Canon.”

Cynthia eyed the familiar dagger in his hand, shaking her head.
The Church’s use of such killers was no secret to her—they’d been at it for years.

“Hmph, for a vampire, you know quite a bit about us.”

The zealot sneered, a faint glow flickering along his dagger’s blade.
“Since you’re onto us, I’ll have to silence you.”

“Let’s see if you can.”

[Wait, what’s the Holy Slaughter Canon?]

Ina, watching the tense standoff, was utterly confused.

She’d been with the Holy Church for years, yet this was the first she’d heard of such a thing.

More baffling—how did Cynthia, a vampire, know more about the Church than she did, a Saint?!

This can’t stand! It makes me look like a fake Saint!

Why does Cynthia know so much about the Church?!

As Ina’s thoughts spiraled, the fight erupted.
Cynthia now held a dagger, blood-red like the spear from earlier, matching the zealot’s weapon.

Two flashes of light streaked by, too fast for Ina to follow.
When Cynthia reappeared, she was locked in combat with the zealot.

“You’re using Tiptoe?! How do you know it?!”

The zealot’s voice cracked with shock as his dagger clashed with Cynthia’s.
An overwhelming force pressed against him, yet the Blood Clan girl seemed to exert no effort at all.

Her dagger didn’t even quiver, while he strained with all his might and still fell short.

This is no ordinary vampire!

A cold wind gusted through the broken window, lifting Cynthia’s silver hair, which shimmered as her ruby eyes flared.

“Silver hair… could it be you?”

The zealot’s realization hit, but as he staggered to dodge, Cynthia flicked her wrist, her dagger slicing a gash across his shoulder.

“You don’t need to know that much.”

Cynthia gave him no reprieve, darting forward and striking again with lightning speed.

The zealot twisted, trying to parry with his dagger, but the moment their blades met, Cynthia’s red dagger warped, piercing through his weapon and plunging into his chest.

“Ugh—you…”

Disbelief widened the zealot’s bloodshot eyes, nearly bulging from their sockets.
He hadn’t anticipated such an end.

But even in death, their plan would persist.
“Heh… heh… Even if you… kill me, you can’t stop us…”

His trembling voice weakened, yet it dripped with contempt for vampires.
“You filthy demons… have no place in this world… The Holy Nation’s glory… will eradicate you!”

“You talk too much.”

Cynthia seemed uninterested in his talk of plans.
To be safe, another red dagger materialized in her left hand, and she drove it into his throat without hesitation.

Her actions stunned Ina, who gaped from the sidelines.
“You—you just killed him like that? Without asking about their plan?”

Though Ina didn’t know the Church’s current schemes, as a member, she was deeply curious.

The “Holy Slaughter Canon” she’d never heard of, a plan even a Saint like her was unaware of, and the missing orc children…

It reeked of conspiracy.

A plan hidden from a Saint was likely too dark to see the light of day.

“You’re interested? In their plans?”

Cynthia stood beside the zealot’s body, confirming his death before retracting her daggers and turning to Ina.

“It doesn’t sound like anything good…”

Ina sat on the bed’s edge, averting her gaze from the corpse, but answered, “I mean, if they’ve got some scheme, ruining it could be… part of our revenge, right?”

Cynthia crossed her arms, silent for a moment, then snapped her fingers.
A pool of crimson blood welled beneath the body, slowly engulfing it entirely.

“Since you’re so curious, why not see for yourself?”