Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: I Will Buy Your Soul
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“...Do you think I’m the only one being manipulated?”
Viscount Leighton said.
“Here, there’s a puppy. The puppy grew up watching its mother who had been collared since she was young. Seeing her always wagging her tail at her master and stretching out her tongue to lick his hand, it thinks that’s natural. Priest, we vampires are that kind of race.”
The power of domination called vampires’ ability was, in truth, a great chain of existence that bound them all together.
“If you’re born a high-ranking vampire, you can dominate lower classes forever. And you think that’s natural. The dominator believes it’s right for the other to be dominated, and the dominated harbors no discontent. I lived thinking that was natural too.”
Until he realized that in the Empire, it wasn’t.
Of course, the Empire was a stratified society as well. Those born nobles lived dominating commoners.
But even there, there were clear limits. Even a commoner could become a noble through ability or merit, and a noble who squandered their house would fall into ruin.
Movement between classes wasn’t common, but it wasn’t so rare either.
Vampires had no such thing.
“Well, truth be told, I’m not in a position to complain. I was born into the Lord rank, after all... Aside from Her Majesty the Queen, I was always the one dominating, never dominated.”
“Is vampire domination that strong?”
“It’s to the point where if they say die, you die. It’s less mental domination and more blood domination, but there’s no way to reverse it after the fact.”
Their society was practically one body from top to bottom, so it was common sense for the bottom to obey the top’s orders. Just as it’s natural for hands and feet to move when the head commands.
Since vampires were a different race from us, it was hard to outright call it wrong.
The Lord had entrusted the decision to me, but this wasn’t a matter for an outsider like me to judge right or wrong.
So I cautiously held out the Bell of Commandments in my hand. A miracle was still a miracle even after leaving my grasp. Even without infusing more power, it would exert its might at least once.
“What does this mean?”
“I now understand the Lord’s will. If this bell rings once, Your Lordship can escape domination, but you will also lose the power to dominate others.”
Now I understood the angel’s cryptic words.
The Lord desired humanity’s freedom, but not the freedom to bind others.
–This is the Lord’s will regarding your second prayer. You who crave freedom: if you intend to respect others’ freedom as much as your own, I will gladly grant you all freedom.
You cannot shed only the shackles of being dominated while keeping the power to dominate intact.
At least, do not seek such an answer from the Lord. This is His will.
Yet His will was not compulsion. He merely gave His own answer to one who sought it.
If the answer didn’t please, one could simply refuse it.
“Whether you use this bell or not is Your Lordship’s choice.”
I had no reason or right to decide his life for him.
In the end, a person’s life was theirs to walk. The Lord could extend a hand through me to one groaning under trials beyond their power, pulling them from the pit of suffering, but He wouldn’t make life’s decisions for them.
Only Viscount Leighton himself had that qualification. Whatever he did with this miracle was now his heart’s affair.
He could hang the bell from his carriage door like mere decoration or toss it in the trash. The moment I transferred this miracle to him, it was no longer mine.
Hesitating, wavering, unable to hide his shaken expression, he took the bell.
He pocketed it and said no more. His face was filled with complex emotions.
So I said nothing either. As if nothing had happened between us.
My calling was fulfilled just by giving him one more option. No, strictly speaking, it wasn’t over yet.
The Lord hadn’t answered my first prayer, saying I already had the capacity to resolve this myself.
“Your Lordship.”
“Yes... Ah, yes?!”
I roused him again. He had fallen silent, lost in complicated thoughts.
“May I infuse the Lord’s divinity into you briefly and take a look? To find a solution, I need to understand how the Sun’s Curse works first.”
“Ah, of course... Of course. Please, help yourself.”
Viscount Leighton readily pressed his forehead to mine.
I placed my hand on his forehead, closed my eyes, and infused divinity. Almost instantly, a foul, vicious, horrific malice rushed in from the far ends of the world. It was terrifyingly strong, beyond human. The scale was different from the start.
A level of hatred no human, no matter how consumed by resentment, could produce.
It emanated palpably from the Sun, on the opposite side of the world. The Sun, which should shine upon the world without emotion, was cursing them with intent.
Even on a night without a single ray of sunlight, the loathing was vivid—had they endured this hatred until now?
‘The Ancient Gods are parts of the universe, she said.’
A curse cast by a part of the universe, even forsaking its self.
It meant the universe no longer welcomed these vampires, no matter that they were part of it, and was prepared to expel them at any time.
I slowly withdrew my hand from his forehead and asked.
“By any chance, are the number of vampires steadily decreasing?”
“...Yes. I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but hiding the truth from someone like you, Priest, would only hurt us. I don’t know how you realized, but yes.”
“As expected, it’s not something you can escape just by avoiding sunlight. This curse is less a curse and more the universe’s laws turning harmful to you all. Even fleeing the Sun, its medium, you’ll be caught eventually.”
With sunlight shining everywhere on earth, where could be an exception?
The Ancient God’s rage carried in the light was even now pouring somewhere in the world, accumulating layer by layer in the land and seas. It harmed only vampires, leaving other creatures untouched.
“......”
“Your Lordship?”
He let out a deep sigh. Only after seeing the shadow on his face did I realize he had circumstances hard to speak of. Without pressing, I waited a little, and he slowly opened his mouth.
“You’re right, Priest. Our kind is slowly... very slowly being weeded out.”
“Fewer children are being born, and the rate of deformities is rising. The ancient vampires supposedly had abilities to transform into diverse forms like stone statues or blood mists, but now only Her Majesty and her daughter possess them.”
“Other progenitor bloodlines have died out or degraded to Lords. Her Majesty doesn’t want to know, but we face extinction. We just try to live as long as we can.”
Even hiding in deep earth tunnels,
Or impossibly fleeing a myriad leagues under the sea, the end would be the same eventually.
With the universe intent on expelling them, could I reverse it with my power?
“We’re completely cornered.”
“That’s why we cling to you, Priest. No one else can solve this.”
Viscount Leighton nodded at the princess’s words. Indeed.
The fastest way to resolve the Sun’s Curse was to eliminate its source, the Ancient God itself. If that was impossible, destroy its medium, the Sun.
Easier said than done, of course, with zero feasibility. Even if somehow achieved, it’d be meaningless. Universal laws couldn’t be killed to begin with, and even if removed, no one knew what would follow.
If I had to predict, well, the universe would endure. One law changed would alter contents, not destroy it. But could we inhabitants survive?
No sage, not even me, could answer that.
The Sun? Pointless to discuss. Even Grimudo wouldn’t attempt it.
And if successful? Everyone could predict: extinction. Humanity and all terrestrial races would perish, the world freezing solid.
This “curse” was merely the universe’s laws partially rewritten.
Thus, begging to lift it was futile. Conveying words to the Ancient God was impossible, and even if done, refusal was likely.
Whether it had regained sentience to even consider was debatable.
“Can you do it...?”
I shook my head at Viscount Leighton’s desperate expression.
“I don’t know.”
Impossible to cure outright. But carving out a loophole, like draping a veil over one forge from the Sun’s Curse, might be feasible.
For that, I’d need to craft a new authority. Exactly which one would require thought.
“But I don’t think it’s entirely impossible.”
Because the Ancient God that imposed the Sun’s Curse had already entered eternal slumber.
Thus, it was a dead law. Dead laws were for exploration, not obedience.
Times had changed; those who enraged the Ancient Gods were long dead.
Only their innocent descendants remained, generation after generation, sacrificial lambs to a purposeless curse.
If a dead law tormented the living, it ought to be resolved.
But how? What authority to craft?
Could I assemble such with my meager skills?
“I have a son.”
Casual, tossed out as if nothing.
But everyone flinched. Me too.
“Born with only one leg. Even grown, his right leg stops at the thigh. His eyes aren’t red like mine but milky white. Priest, my child fears the light.”
“Do you think my child unusual? Not at all. We’re increasingly feeling our race’s lifespan ending. I just ignored the changes until my own son was born deformed. Even my Lord-rank bloodline is like this. Commoners say of two children, one is deformed.”
Like reciting words long held in his heart, fluently like flowing water,
He simply confessed to me. Confessed his sins (?), as it were.
“When we heard such stories, we ordered them to abandon the children in the mountains.”
“What?!”
“It’s the universe’s law at work. Medicine or surgery can’t fix it. At first we pitied them, but gradually grew to loathe them. Eventually calling them mongrels.”
I was silent, the princess furious, Roca wide-eyed in undisguised shock.
A sin regretted late was still a sin, unerasable, unforgivable. If he’d truly done such, no redemption existed. I kept my mouth shut, merely listening to his voice.
“It was Duke Schumira’s will. But my sin is participating. Agreeing to eliminate defectives to preserve pure vampire bloodlines—that was me. If I’d resisted and been forced to obey, I’d have someone to blame, but no. Who to fault?”
“Duke Schumira must be out of his mind. Even if the progenitor promised the Vlad family immunity, to commit such horrors based on that? Against powerless infants?”
Viscount Leighton merely bowed his head silently. Only after a moment did he speak again.
“When my own child was born deformed, I finally understood something.”
“Of course you did! Because your son...”
Not the time for anger, I soothed the princess and gestured for him to continue.
He opened his mouth again, looking more exhausted than before.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? Ruthlessly ordering others’ children killed, yet hiding and raising my own. Her Majesty doesn’t even know I have a child.”
“For a saint to confess his crimes without excuse or evasion is admirable in itself. It doesn’t absolve the sins, but one who recognizes and repents differs from one who doesn’t.”
The chains of sin couldn’t be broken; one could only drag them along.
But strength to walk could be gained—by helping others.
All on earth bore sins, some heavier than others.
Unless one was a heavenly angel, all accumulated sins in living.
“Priest. I’m a sinner deserving death. But my son... and my kin, damned only for being born vampires—please save them.”
He pleaded earnestly, over and over.
“Must we just sit here, never even struggling against the Sun, only fleeing? Is there truly no escape from this horrific curse?”
“No, it’s not that. But I need time. Time!”
I replied. Just a few days.
Not a year, not a month—a handful of days would suffice.
What I couldn’t do originally remained impossible no matter the time,
But the Lord said this was within my power, so it wouldn’t take long.
“I’ll craft an authority to save you all and return. And with it, I’ll buy your soul, Viscount.”
I placed my hand on his bowed head, merely comforting him.
“The price is simply to help others as long as your strength and life allow. Not repaying a favor—for your own sake, do so.”
He looked up at me in surprise. I didn’t avert my gaze from those blood-red eyes.
Instead, with my left hand, I grasped the air and drew forth something. An authority: the Baptizer’s Water Flask.
A crude imitation of the Lord’s miracle, the reviving spring, fashioned by me.
Compared to a spring granting a whole village holy water’s blessings, it was paltry—enough for one person’s sip before depleting.
Yet even this paltry power could save someone.
“I’ll take separate payment for aiding your son.”
The flask held water, an authority, the Lord’s mercy,
Enough holy power to free one from disability.
“Not before the Lord or me, but repent to those you harmed. Offer sincere apologies, forgiven or not. That’s all I seek for this flask.”
He took the trembling flask in shaking hands. I said no more.
He didn’t speak to me either. He merely bowed his head in silence, unable to open his mouth. When he glanced up at me, the moment our eyes might meet, he’d look down. Still, I saw his eyes trembling.
“Viscount. Come find me again tomorrow.”
As the carriage reached its destination, I spoke once more.
“Then we’ll discuss the rest.”
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