The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

"You will never hear the voice of God."

The voice of God.

Hearing divine revelation had been Elise's long-standing desire, her very purpose in life.

Yet Antonious had outright denied it.

Elise furrowed her brows at his declaration.

"On what grounds do you say that?"

"You should be asking the opposite question. Where, and from whom, did you hear anything that made you believe the voice of God exists?"

"That’s, of course...."

God was not merely an abstract entity. Divine power, distinct from magic, existed, and there were the Celestials, said to be the descendants of angels.

In moments of crisis, when the faithful prayed with all their heart, miracles—though rare—did occur.

God undoubtedly existed.

Even now, He must be watching from the heavens above. It was only natural for Elise to anticipate a divine revelation.

Surely, God wasn’t mute.

"I, too, once harbored the same hope as you. I firmly believed that if I prayed to the Lord, I could overcome any crisis. I had no doubt that salvation would come."

"......."

"But it never did. No matter how much I pleaded, how fervently I prayed, salvation never came. Only after everything had passed did I realize—waiting idly would never bring salvation."

Antonious spoke in a bitter tone, his eyes clouded with deep regret.

A faint fear stirred within Elise. The fear that she, too, might one day be like him—someone left without salvation.

Just looking at him felt like sinking into a swamp.

She shook her head, brushing aside her unease.

"I'm different from you, Grandfather. I am qualified."

She was the Saintess of Balance.

The corrector who would bring forth a new order.

Even among the faithful, she was not just another worshipper—she stood above them all.

"Wait idly? No, even without praying, it will come to me first."

Because she would make it so.

"So, Grandfather, if there’s anything you wish to say, think about it in advance. I’ll deliver the message for you."

With that, Elise turned away and left for the cathedral.

Antonious watched her departing figure, clutching his rosary as he silently prayed.

That, at the end of her story, the poor girl would not fall into despair.

That she might be saved.

He prayed desperately.

****

"Elise, have you ever met another vampire? Not someone you turned, but a born vampire."

Karami posed the question to Elise.

The difficulty of Elise's Liberation scenario lay in pinpointing the exact version, but once that was settled, the rest became easy.

This was the Hansel and Gretel version of Elise.

The witch and her house had to be eradicated. To do that, information about those involved in the experiments needed to be gathered.

After that, it was just a matter of choosing the right options to reach the true ending. That was what made it easy.

'Because I already know.'

There was no need to sneak around gathering classified information. He already knew which choices to make. All that was left was to track them down and crush them.

Of course, revealing information too blatantly would raise suspicion, so he had to regulate how much he shared.

"No, I haven't. Why do you ask?" Elise responded.

"If you became a vampire through blood infusion, then there must have been a vampire who provided that blood, don’t you think?"

Elise nodded. It was a logical conclusion.

They wouldn't have just grabbed a random passing vampire and drawn their blood.

No one would use inferior blood for creating a Saintess.

Elise had undergone experimentation over ten years ago, and the experiments must have been ongoing even before that. There had to be a vampire «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» who regularly provided blood.

Understanding this, Elise let out a scoff.

"I'm not even surprised anymore. For a priest to collaborate with vampires."

They spoke of righteousness and grand ideals, but in the end, they were ones who should never be saved.

"Subtly probe them. There might be more they’re hiding. They could even know about the vampire."

The next day, Elise went straight to Marcenus and asked him outright.

Marcenus took a moment to assess her.

"Why are you curious about this?"

"For personal revenge, and for the greater good. If I eliminate the vampire and frame it as the root of this crisis, wouldn’t the ignorant masses rejoice?"

Adding a plausible pretext to the truth doubled its persuasiveness.

In the end, Elise held the reins. She would put Marcenus in a position where he had no choice but to answer.

"Why aren’t you answering? Surely you aren’t defending a vampire over me, a Saintess?"

"Of course not. If it were up to me, I would share the information. But unfortunately, I wasn’t the one in charge of the experiments, so I don’t know the finer details."

"If not you, then who does?"

"Why not seek out Roman? He should have information on the vampire."

"Hmm. Understood."

Elise immediately went to Roman.

"A vampire, you say! Why, of course, I know about him. Do you need his information?"

"Yes."

"Ah, naturally. After all, since you inherited his blood, one might even consider you... family. Wouldn’t you like to meet your—"

Roman shut his mouth.

Because Elise’s icy glare made it clear that if he said another word, he’d lose his head.

To make even Roman fall silent.

It was a murderous aura of terrifying intensity.

"Information."

"Y-Yes, ma’am!"

Roman hastily scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Elise.

"Uh... Saintess? I completely understand your sentiments, but you see, he’s a very important patron of ours. It would be quite troublesome if you just went and killed him~"

"If there are no customers left, you won’t need a patron either."

"What! Vampires can always be replaced! Safe travels!"

Elise spread her wings and swiftly ascended into the sky, checking the note Roman had given her.

Typically, a vampire's habitat was in the Demon Realm, a place where sunlight never reached all year round. The moment a vampire—be it a mere fledgling or a Vampire Lord—was exposed to sunlight, they would be sent straight to the afterlife.

Yet, the location written on Roman’s note was not the Demon Realm but a city on the continent.

'That takes some nerve. If they're exposed, they'll be reduced to ashes.'

Normally, they wouldn’t have supplied blood to the Holy Kingdom at all.

Time to see what kind of bastard they were dealing with.

Elise flew straight toward her destination.

Traveling by air made the journey swift.

The City of Morva.

It was a small city, about the same size as the one Elise had lived in as a child. Ordinary people bustled about—neither faithful believers nor vampires.

Back when she was young and ignorant, she had desperately wanted to go to the Holy Kingdom. Looking back, how foolish that desire had been. It was nothing more than a congregation of lunatics, not a paradise filled with dreams and hope.

Letting out a self-deprecating chuckle, Elise descended.

The place she landed was a mansion nestled in the foothills behind the city.

The Count of the Night, Damian Belcador.

This was the residence of Count Belcador.

The Belcador family had guarded this estate for over a hundred years, passing it down from ancestor to ancestor. They never stepped outside during the day and were only rarely seen at night.

Because of this peculiarity, the count had earned the moniker "The Count of the Night."

'Oh, come on. He’s obviously a vampire.'

Ancestor, my ass. He was probably the same person all along, steadily accumulating wealth under a hidden identity. The fact that he had remained undiscovered all this time was impressive.

Perhaps he had secured protection in exchange for supplying blood to the Holy Kingdom.

Well, whatever his circumstances, they didn’t matter to Elise. She had only one goal—revenge.

Knock. Knock.

Elise rapped her knuckles against the mansion’s door.

A moment later, it creaked open, revealing a maid.

"Welcome. My father has been expecting you."

She spoke as if she had known Elise would come. Most likely, she had sensed the blood circulating within Elise’s body.

Elise’s gaze slowly scanned the maid from head to toe. She was standing precisely at the edge of the entrance, where the last rays of sunset barely failed to reach.

'A vampire.'

Elise recognized it immediately. What’s more, the blood coursing through the maid’s veins matched her own—she had been turned by Count Belcador.

'She just called him "Father," didn’t she?'

Was she actually his biological daughter?

How curious.

Keeping her guard up, Elise stepped into the mansion.

So this was a vampire’s residence.

Massive, grotesque stone statues that looked ready to lurch forward at any moment. A crimson carpet, chandeliers dripping with red glass reminiscent of blood.

The decor practically screamed, "I’m a vampire!"

As they walked, the maid suddenly spoke.

"What are you to Father?"

Elise quirked a brow. "What?"

"Are you also one of Father’s daughters?"

"Who are you calling a daughter?"

"Are you not?"

"Of course not."

The maid let out a relieved sigh.

"Why are you sighing?"

"I was worried that a halfwit like you might share the same father as me. If that’s not the case, then I’m relieved."

"A... halfwit?"

"Am I wrong? Neither human nor vampire. A heretic who belongs nowhere. There is no place that welcomes you."

"Hah."

A vein pulsed in Elise’s temple.

Now even a lowly fledgling dared to look down on her?

"You must be awfully confident, trusting your master to protect you. But do you think your precious count will—"

"We've arrived."

The maid abruptly cut her off and stopped in front of a massive iron door. Elise shot her a look of contempt, but the maid’s expression remained unshaken.

What a rude little servant.

Just wait.

Elise would make sure she wept and begged for mercy soon enough.

"Hmph."

She scoffed.

Knock. Knock.

"Father, your guest has arrived."

"Let her in."

Creak.

The heavy iron doors groaned open.

Elise stepped inside.

The room beyond was more of a laboratory than a reception hall.

Naked women were restrained in various positions, and strange, unidentifiable instruments were scattered throughout.

Bloodstains marred the surroundings, evidence of experiments—or perhaps torture—conducted within these walls. At the center of it all stood a man dressed in an immaculate suit.

Pale skin.

Albinic features.

This was the master of the mansion.

The owner of the blood flowing within Elise’s body.

"So, you’re Damian Belcador."

Damian, who had been silently observing her, stepped forward.

Two pairs of blood-red eyes met.

If she used her divine power, purification would be instantaneous. She was debating whether to gauge his attitude first or strike immediately when—

"Come in, my daughter. Welcome home."

Damian smiled broadly and spread his arms in greeting.