The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

A Crimson Blood Moon hung °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° in the sky.

Black clouds drifted lazily, swimming across the heavens.

Beneath them, the Holy Kingdom of Kassilon lay shrouded in a thick, blood-colored mist.

A sharp, overwhelming stench of blood filled the air.

The once-balanced harmony of black and white in the Holy Kingdom had been completely stained in crimson.

Bats swarmed the skies.

Priests with red, gleaming eyes roamed the streets below.

At the Great Temple of Kassilon, the holiest sanctuary—where the divine was said to be closest—Elise knelt in peaceful prayer.

Saintess Elise.

Vampire Elise.

The one who had plunged the world into chaos.

The woman who rewrote the very order of the Holy Kingdom, a nation boasting an ancient and revered history.

She had stolen the faith that once belonged to God.

She had commanded the believers to attack others.

And by doing so, those self-righteous believers, who once feigned purity, had become no different from Elise.

She bathed them in blood, drowning them in violence.

And those they attacked... became her loyal subordinates.

Faith was power.

Faith was the very foundation of divinity.

The faith of hundreds of thousands now flowed into Elise.

She was no longer just a manufactured Saintess.

She was a God.

There was no other way to describe it.

And yet—she still prayed.

The voice of God remained silent.

Even as the balance of the world crumbled.

Even as everything spiraled into chaos.

Even as the faithful begged for salvation.

God did not answer.

"Haah..."

A bitter, quiet laugh escaped her lips.

She had done all this.

She had pushed the world to this point.

What more was there to do?

...

There was still one thing left.

Marcenus had spoken of the ultimate balance.

Only when black and white reached a perfect equilibrium would the true power of a Saintess be revealed. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Elise had removed her ring, awakening the full nature of her vampiric blood.

Yet—she still had not fed.

Her restraint had reached its absolute limit.

The hunger gnawed at her, clawing at the edges of her mind.

Her crimson eyes gleamed with an eerie, bloody radiance.

—How long do you think you can keep resisting?

A man’s voice echoed in her mind.

It was the voice of Damian Velcador.

A voice that made her feel like a traitor simply by listening.

"How are you still alive?"

—Did I not tell you? A father cannot abandon his daughter. As long as my daughter exists, I cannot die.

Damian’s body had been destroyed.

But the ones he had left behind remained—his kin, his bloodline.

As long as his blood flowed through another, Damian could not die.

That was the power of a true progenitor.

"Pathetically clinging to life by jumping between bodies... you really do have a bat’s nature."

It wasn’t just his voice.

Damian was invading her consciousness, pulling at her thoughts.

She couldn’t sever the connection. His blood still ran through her veins.

And yet—

Elise refused to give in.

It was ironic.

She had thrown the world into ruin just to hear God’s voice—

And yet, here she was, hesitating.

She didn’t even know what she was hesitating for.

It was just a feeling.

A certainty that if she drank blood now—there would be no turning back.

But time was running out.

It was time to choose.

"Guests have arrived."

She could sense it—powerful presences approaching from beyond the Holy Kingdom.

They had come to judge the wickedness that had thrown the world into turmoil.

Angels?

Or perhaps God’s executioners?

Whoever they were—

Elise had no intention of backing down.

She had not yet heard the voice of God.