Chapter 21: Don’t drink if you can’t hold your liquor

Late at night, the old tavern buzzed with life.
Workers gathered to drown their daily grind in cheap beer, seeking escape from their troubles.

Mostly men filled the place, so when two young girls stepped in, they drew immediate attention.

“Ugh… being stared at is so uncomfortable…”

Ina nibbled on a skewer of grilled giant mushrooms, muttering under her breath.

If this weren’t the only tavern open this late, she’d have dragged Cynthia elsewhere.

The air reeked of greasy barbecue and sharp alcohol—not bad, but not to Ina’s taste.
The men’s sneaky glances didn’t help her mood either.

Cynthia, though, seemed unfazed, sitting calmly with a beer, no food ordered.

“Not eating?”

Ina wasn’t sure about vampire diets but knew blood sustained them.
“Or… craving some young girl’s blood?”

Cynthia stayed silent, glancing at a table of men who’d risen, eyeing them.

Her gaze swept the tavern, and the air seemed to chill, making the men shudder.
After a pause, they sat back down.

The tavern’s noise dimmed slightly.

Cynthia returned her focus to Ina, lifting her beer for a sip.

The bitter taste hit hard, making her grimace.

Different from what I remember… Is it because I’m a vampire now?

Her past life held no fond memories—just a hollow existence, a puppet without will.

But after Alicia turned her into a Blood Princess, she felt alive again.

Alicia’s care could be… intense, but it carried a warmth Cynthia hadn’t felt in ages.

Still, her drive for revenge against the Holy Church lingered, though now she wasn’t sure who her target was.

The ones who hurt her?
Killing them wouldn’t stop others from rising.

The Pope?
Was he truly the root of it all?

Cynthia’s thoughts muddled—she’d never questioned this before.

“You okay? You look troubled.”

Ina, finishing a palm-sized mushroom, clocked Cynthia’s unease instantly.

“Who do you want revenge on?”

Cynthia whispered after a long pause, eyeing Ina.

As a witch once caged by the Church, Ina must harbor her own grudge, yet she seemed to savor the journey, not consumed by hate.

“Revenge? On who?”

Ina choked on the question, swallowing hard.

It was a loaded one.

Who did she want revenge on?

Faces flashed in her mind—people who’d been kind, overly protective even.

Maybe because she’d been “chosen” by the Goddess’s statue?

So…

“The Goddess…”

Ina muttered absentmindedly.

That deity had dumped her here without explanation.
If they met again, Ina swore she’d kick her with Mrs. James’s boots.

“You want to… take revenge on the Goddess?”

“Huh? Did I say that?”

Cynthia’s words snapped Ina back.
She saw the confusion in Cynthia’s eyes clear.

What did I just say?

Cynthia nodded.
“You said you want revenge on the Goddess.”

“Haha… guess I did…”

If kicking her counts.

Ina kept that to herself, sensing trouble if she voiced it.

She glanced around—no one seemed to have overheard, thankfully.
In Church territory, with so many believers, such talk could get them branded heretics.

A Saint arrested as a pagan?
That’d be a riot.

She’d have to watch her mouth.

Revenge on the Goddess?

Cynthia hadn’t considered that path.

But… how do you even fight a Goddess?

Frowning, she sifted through everything she’d learned.

Goddess… Faith… Church…

What was a Goddess?

“The Goddess is… a symbol of faith…”

As Ina munched her second mushroom, Cynthia had an epiphany.
“Ina, you want to destroy the Church’s faith?”

“Huh…?”

Ina froze, hands and mouth stopping as she stared blankly at Cynthia.

Cynthia-chan… what are you on about?

She was lost.

“You want to show people the Church isn’t the Goddess’s vessel anymore, but a demon cloaked in her image?”

“If the Church’s darkness was exposed, it’d shatter their faith and the Church’s foundation, right?”

“I didn’t—”

Before Ina could protest, Cynthia cut in.
“You don’t mind, right? I knew we were on the same page!”

Cynthia downed her beer in one go, a flush creeping onto her face, her voice rising.
“Let’s… together! Tear down this corrupt Holy—”

“Stop, stop, STOP!”

Ina, sensing disaster, tossed her half-eaten mushroom, lunged, and clamped a hand over Cynthia’s mouth, sweating bullets.

Nearby patrons turned, drawn by the commotion.

“Uh… my friend’s drunk, talking nonsense! Miss, the bill!”

“I’m… not drunk. You’re… underestimating me.”

Outside the tavern, Cynthia, still flushed, leaned into Ina’s arms.

“Not drunk? You’re a lightweight!”

Ina, frustrated, supported Cynthia as they shuffled along.

Suddenly, Cynthia’s head lolled back onto Ina’s chest, her eyes hazy.
“Oh… pillow… so soft… I like…”

Ina’s face burned at the unexpected move, but seeing Cynthia’s blissful expression, she didn’t protest, just sighed.
“Cynthia-chan! No more drinking!”

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes watched from the shadows nearby.

“My instincts were right…”

“That must be… Lady Ina.”