When the vampiress laid bare the entirety of her plot, even Malin listening on the side felt they all had to die.
The essence of blood from a hundred younglings, this represented a hundred innocent children who perished wrongfully, just for a so-called summoning ritual?
Not just this lady, not only her children, but also those who wished to perform the ritual, those who wanted to summon that damned being of Chaos, they all had to die.
"You promised me, Your Excellency, to let my children leave alive," the vampiress reached out and grabbed the hem of Constance’s pants, pleading.
In response to this plea, the elderly Bishop kicked her hand away.
"No! No! You cannot go back on your word! You swore an oath!" the vampiress screamed.
Constance then bent down, unraveled the scarf around his neck, revealing a blood-red tattoo: "Two hundred years ago, the Kingdom of Trafania fell to your vampire legions, with the then King kneeling before your Queen, begging for a chance for the younglings to survive..."
He gazed at the lady, laughed at her screaming and covering her head, her foolish attempt to escape: "Your Queen agreed, so the Trafanians gathered all their children to hand over to you, and then, before all the adults, you devoured them. Do you remember, the blood feast in the Kingdom of Trafania two centuries ago? You probably haven’t forgotten, and neither have I."
He stood up, extended his hand, and took the Revolver that Malin passed to him.
"No, forgive us! Your Excellency! That was two hundred years ago!" The vampiress finally raised her head again, looking at the death enemy in her eyes: "Our eldest son was born fifty years ago! The second son, twenty years ago! They should not receive such treatment!"
"You are mistaken, madam, I am a child who my mother held tightly in her arms and finally left in a well to live." The old Bishop walked over to her eldest son, grabbed his long hair and yanked him up: "Here stands a surviving seed of Trafania, greeting your kind, vampiress, and now it’s your turn to watch your children die before your eyes."
The old man pointed the gun at her eldest son’s head, then pulled the trigger.
Releasing his hand, the old man took a long sigh and then, holding the Revolver upside down, handed it back to Malin: "Have you heard the story of Trafania?"
"I have, Trafania eventually became a land of death at the hands of vampires, and it was only a hundred years later that it was liberated by neighboring human realms, but the Trafanians had by then essentially been wiped out." Malin looked at the old man in front of him.
"Yes, I may be the last Trafanian in this world. The rest probably have already forgotten the Trafanian blood flowing in their veins." At this point, the old man turned to look at the lady: "Hand her over to the Church of Justice, tell them there’s no need to return her alive. If possible, keep the skull for me, my private trophy room lacks a vampire Viscount’s skull."
"As you wish." A Punisher dragged the vampiress toward the prison cart.
As the old man watched the vampiress being stuffed into the prison cart, he turned to Malin: "In my life, I have killed over four hundred vampires, they all call me the Vampire Butcher, but I think I have killed too few because the Thainan people say, killing one is a murderer, killing ten thousand is a general, and only killing a million makes one a King... I have always been seeking justice against all vampires in this world for my bloodline... but to no avail, those vampires scattered, and after their realm was destroyed by our human coalition, I could only kill a mere one or two vampires each year... I probably won’t be able to fulfill my wish, Malin, child, can you do this old man a favor?"
Malin nodded: "Please tell me."
"I don’t ask you to remember a hatred that doesn’t belong to you; I just hope that if one day vampires foolishly dream of making a comeback, turning humans, elves, and other humanoid beings in this world into livestock... make sure you exterminate all of them for me." After speaking, the old man patted Malin’s shoulder.
"It’s not just for you, Your Excellency, it’s for ourselves," Malin said while nodding: "Your request, I will keep in my heart. If the vampires ever go mad, I will purify every vampire I encounter. The world is vast, but we cannot share the land with lunatics and madmen."
"That’s right, normal beings, Chaos, and cultists can never share the same dream." The old man chuckled and nodded: "I’m starting to envy Hoffman a bit."
Camilla took the Shotgun passed over by her subordinate, cracked open the breach and checked the type of bullet.
A hand patted her left shoulder: "We are ready, Your Excellency."
"Good." Camilla looked at the subordinates across the door; one nodded, reached out, and grabbed the doorknob.
Camilla drew a Silver Powder Grenade from her waist provided by the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, pulled the pin, her subordinate pushed open the door, and Camilla threw it inside smoothly.
Two seconds after the explosion, Camilla burst through the door, looking at the Blood Slave screaming from the silver contamination, she drove the spike on the butt of her gun into the slave’s eye socket, twisted with force and pulled, bringing him down while her subordinate had raised the Shotgun and pulled the trigger at the rising Blood Slave, the silver-imbued Hollow Point Bullet sent him flying directly into the wall.