Becoming the Vampire Progenitor in Central Europe
According to the Covenant of the Holy Order:
“All things are born but do not die. Eden grew ever more bloated, so God created death and suspended it in the skies. God, being the Lord of Lords, holds dominion over the origin of life. Jonah is dusk incarnate, overseeing the decay of all living things. But Kuba, discontented, was exiled by God. To escape death, Kuba embraced immortality and hid from the sun.”
Norton picked up a pen, crossed out Kuba’s name from the Covenant, and wrote in his own.
Kuba was the progenitor of vampires?
Well, once I killed the vampire progenitor—
Then I, Norton, am the vampire progenitor now!
Chapter 1: The Church
The dim kerosene lamp couldn't disperse the surrounding darkness, only casting a faint glow over a small area that barely illuminated Norton's expressionless face as he wore his pristine priest's robes.
The sound of a wooden table shaking came from the small wooden hut behind him, accompanied by a voice trembling with fear and a hint of pain.
"Father Mia... can the blessing really be completed?"
"Of course, my son, this is the exclusive blessing of the priesthood, noble and sacred. Now, no more talking." Father Mia's voice sounded aged yet strangely excited.
In truth, he was indeed quite old—sixty-nine years, which in this era definitely qualified as elderly.
Norton found the noises from the wooden hut utterly unbearable, his face twisted in disgust to the extreme, feeling like every slight sound was pure torture.
Good heavens, even after transmigrating, I still get to witness this classic Central European performance right before my eyes.
The kerosene lamp's wick flickered continuously until finally, the table's creaking gradually subsided.
Before long, an elderly man dressed in black-and-white priest garments emerged from the wooden hut with a satisfied expression.
The priest's hawk-like nose twitched slightly, his wrinkled face finally showing traces of fatigue.
"Very good, son. Remember to return next week for your blessing. With my blessing, you'll receive a portion of black bread daily. For now, I believe you may take your leave."
"Y-yes!" The voice from inside the room trembled with fear and shock. Under Norton's watchful gaze, a small figure stumbled out unsteadily.
Beneath Father Mia's benevolent gaze, the boy trembled as he leaned against the wall, making his way toward the dim candle-lit path nearby. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵※𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮※𝓷𝓮𝓽
As the boy's figure disappeared around the corner of the wall, the kindness vanished from Father Mia's face.
His gaze turned to the young priest who had resumed his expressionless demeanor, finally nodding with satisfaction.
"Excellent, Norton. With you here, our blessing ceremonies proceed without interruption."
"This is my duty, Father!" Norton bowed slightly, responding respectfully, with no trace of his previous disgust and revulsion visible.
Looking at Norton's handsome features and his expression of deep respect, Father Mia sighed with regret.
Ah, if only he had arrived earlier—had he come a few years sooner, this child Norton wouldn't feel so distant from him.
Young Norton remained unaware of the tragic scenarios playing out in Father Mia's mind, simply keeping his head slightly bowed, his face filled with genuine reverence.
After giving Norton's handsome appearance one more lingering look, Father Mia reluctantly dismissed his thoughts.
"I believe you're twenty years old now, correct?"
Father Mia pondered for a moment before speaking: "You were raised by the church, baptized in doctrine since childhood. I believe your faith has become sufficiently steadfast! Therefore, you shall participate in next week's mass as well. Spend these next few days preparing thoroughly—tomorrow I'll have someone explain the mass procedures to you."
"Yes, Father!" Norton nodded respectfully, feeling a spark of excitement within.
Not excitement about the mass, but because he would finally be allowed outside.
He had transmigrated in the womb—as a newborn he couldn't see his surroundings, and by the time he could see clearly, he was already within this church.
Raised by the previous priest, he had only been assigned Father Mia as replacement after the old priest's death.
He couldn't determine exactly where he had transmigrated to, only that this era seemed similar to the Papal States period of medieval Central Europe. Yet judging by various church practices, this clearly wasn't Central Europe, or at least not the Central Europe he remembered from Earth.
For instance, the church didn't recruit missionaries externally—all missionaries were orphans adopted by the church. Upon reaching twenty years of age, they would begin conducting masses, transitioning from acolytes to full missionaries.
Before beginning mass duties, these acolytes weren't permitted to step outside the church, stand in high places, gaze into the distance, converse with outsiders, and could only wear hooded priest garments while walking with bowed heads.
The church perimeter was guarded by soldiers in white armor who completely encircled the area, making escape impossible. Any acolyte caught breaking rules faced immediate execution by decapitation.
Over these twenty years, Norton had witnessed no fewer than ten acolytes beheaded—and since they all lived within the church, he had known every single one personally. This made him too terrified to even approach the church doors, forced to wait until turning twenty and becoming a missionary to gain freedom of movement.
Thus in twenty years since transmigrating, he had never once stepped outside, never even reached the church doors, leaving him completely unable to determine what kind of world he had entered.
"Very well, you may return." After giving Norton one final glance, Father Mia waved his hand dismissively.
"Yes, Father!" Norton bowed again before turning and disappearing into the dim corridor.
The church interior was vast—from priests to the lowest resident believers, the total population reached over a thousand people. While he couldn't identify what world this was, the church's scale suggested this was likely indeed a Papal States-like era.
Norton returned to his room.
Adopted orphans under ten were merely congregants, not yet acolytes—ten congregants shared one room, similar to the communal sleeping quarters from his previous life's school days. After turning ten and receiving the priest's baptism, they became acolytes and earned their own small rooms.
Acolyte rooms were small and standardized—less than six square meters, containing only a bed with maybe a small table and storage cabinet.
Norton's room was particularly sparse, lacking even a cabinet—just a small bed stuffed with straw and padded with ragged clothing, plus a tiny table holding a kerosene lamp and two religious texts.
Beyond these, the room only contained scattered leaves stuck together on the floor.
They still carried the faint aromatic scent of hormones.