Under the emotional agitation of the Poet of Great Love, Viscount Augustine found himself feeling more fury than fear.
Clearly, that long period of being sealed had caused him to amass an unimaginable amount of rage.
"Speaking of witches... I recall reading in the magic tome she left behind that you are an exceptionally cruel vampire. Your favorite pastime was tearing infants from the arms of young mothers and draining every drop of their blood right in front of them, feasting upon their fury, despair, and blood."
Lanqi spoke in a detached tone, as though he had only just finished delegating tasks to the clergymen and could now finally spare Viscount Augustine his undivided attention.
Not a trace of joy or anger could be detected in his voice; there was hardly any emotional fluctuation at all.
"So you wish to judge me?! Human!!"
As if grasping Lanqi's implication, Viscount Augustine struggled with the last dregs of his strength and roared,
"You wretched, hypocritical creatures! You have justice constantly spilling from your lips, yet you do the exact same things as the villains you condemn! Can you truly say where I went wrong, and that you are entirely in the right?!"
Hearing Viscount Augustine's words, Hyperion froze slightly.
She had no idea how to refute him.
In this chaotic and dark era, rules were merely a game to be trampled upon at will. The strong truly possessed the power to enforce their own justice and determine right from wrong purely by their own will.
If one wished to deny the righteousness of the strong ruling the weak, smash the rule of the Blood Clan, and establish rules and order to protect the weak, one could not avoid repeating the cycle of the jungle law—using violence to suppress violence, carving out a blood-soaked path. In essence, that process was no different from what the Blood Clan did; it merely created an even stronger entity to rule over the Blood Clan in turn!
In an age like this, one could only be a tyrant; there was no path that led to becoming a benevolent emperor.
Across the room, the three clergymen were similarly at a loss for an answer.
If they were thorough scoundrels like the Resurrection Church cultists, they might have firmly believed that humans slaying the Blood Clan was justified as natural law.
Yet after hearing Viscount Augustine's interrogation, they too felt bewildered. Under the banner of benevolence and righteousness, were their actions truly going against those very virtues?
"..."
However.
A faint smile curled Lanqi's lips.
"I never once said I was upholding justice, nor did I declare that you are evil. I simply believe that love can create miracles. What I am doing now is reforming you through love, hoping that you will become kind and amicable."
His voice brimmed with compassion, as if offering Viscount Augustine true salvation.
"...?!"
Viscount Augustine, who had still retained some defiance under the assumption that Lanqi was a righteous crusader, instantly shuddered.
As long as an enemy was still provoked enough to argue over right and wrong, he could at least use words to disrupt their mind.
However.
The person he was facing this time...
Seemed to be an utter lunatic.
There was no reasoning with such a thing, nor would that mind ever waver for any enemy!
"Poet of Great Love, help train Viscount Augustine, will you?"
Lanqi spoke to his spiritual companion, the Poet of Great Love.
"Coming to me for something like this means you've found the right demon! I guarantee he'll be thoroughly trained!"
With a finger pressed against her dimple, the Poet of Great Love wore a sweet, blissful smile.
Meanwhile, Frey had more or less finished drawing Viscount Augustine's blood.
Lanqi also dismissed the summon of [Radiant Virtue]. Instantly, the bedroom seemed to regain its forgotten colors. The candlelight flickered softly, casting a faint halo over the bed hangings and illuminating the carved woodwork on the headboard.
The portraits and tapestries along the walls appeared somewhat hazy in the dim play of light and shadow, their painted figures seeming to watch over everything in the room in silence. On the desk, the manuscripts and quill quietly awaited their master's return.
"By the way, Viscount Augustine, did you say earlier that the member of the Blood Clan lying on the bed was weak?"
Lanqi walked over to the bedside, turned his head, and asked Viscount Augustine, who was straining to open his eyes on the floor.
"...Is he not?"
Even though Viscount Augustine's heart was already flooded with an overwhelmingly ominous foreboding, this was the last shred of his bravado; he absolutely could not let himself be intimidated by a few mere humans.
Lanqi patted the mummy and asked, as though conducting an interview:
"Count Palocas, as a senior, do you have any words regarding Viscount Augustine's assessment?"
"Hello... Augustine..."
The mummy's throat trembled, producing a raspy voice, though he nearly choked on his final breath halfway through speaking.
"...C-Count?"
Viscount Augustine's eyes filled with terror and disbelief, his eyeballs bulging almost out of their sockets.
In that fleeting instant, the resurgence of magical fluctuations that briefly emanated from the mummy without question belonged to a count-tier member of the Blood Clan!
Viscount Augustine recalled the ring of Count Palocas that Lanqi had shown him at the very beginning, and everything gradually clicked into place.
Next came absolute, total despair.
Just seeing Count Palocas—someone far stronger than himself—in this state of living death caused Viscount Augustine's face to turn ghastly pale from both physiological shock and sheer terror.
At this moment, he fully grasped the peril he faced. The horror of drawing close to hell nearly drove him to the brink of collapse.
Yet it was already far too late; there was no turning back.
All his confidence, all his arrogance, and all his pride shattered completely in that single instant. The psychological blow was more than he could bear.
Like a balloon blown until it burst, he broke entirely, the light in his crimson eyes beginning to scatter.
"Look at how gentle and friendly Count Palocas has become. This is the power of love."
From beginning to end, Lanqi remained full of goodwill toward Viscount Augustine, devoid of the slightest hostility.
"A single word from Mr. Lanqi is worth ten years of studying church doctrine."
Watching this unfold from the side, the Executioner, Paladin, and Priest appeared to have gained profound enlightenment once again.
After a series of practical improvements to their skills, their faith had attained a seamless, harmonious transcendence at this very moment.
"So there is no right or wrong, no good or evil—only love is eternal, only love is a miracle... Having grasped the true essence, our minds will never again be shaken by creatures of the evil alignment!"
"Viscount Augustine, come join the glorious evolution."
The three clergymen held tweezers, pliers, and a scalpel in their hands. Even behind their masks, their eyes crinkled into crescent-shaped smiles.
Their demeanor had achieved complete, seamless harmony.
"No, nooo!!"
Augustine's bloodcurdling shriek was like the most wretched curse echoing from the abyss, piercing through the castle's thick stone walls to resound across the night sky atop the mountain.
Outside the castle, the vast, deep mountain forest and sea of clouds stretched on endlessly, with moonlight weaving between them.
The night was soft and gentle. The full moon cast a faint luster over Lichtenstein Castle, lending the ancient fortress a hazy, mysterious beauty.
The sun would rise as usual the following day.
Everything would be warm and lovely once more.
The towering spires and intricately carved window lattices appeared even more serene at this hour. When the wind blew, the leaves rustled through the woods, as if preparing a dreamy fairy tale of the castle for the world.
Only the dim silhouettes on the curtains depicted an unspeakable ritual.
With this epilogue, the curtains fell on the scenes of this Shadow World.
...
Ikerite Academy.
Two in the morning. A few lonely stars blinked in the distant sky. The deep silhouette of the School of Sages' main building was almost swallowed by the night, with only the windows of the top-floor conference room still glowing with light.
The shifting lights and shadows of the magical projection screen faintly reflected off the conference room glass. Whenever the screen flickered, the reflection on the window danced against the night sky, until it finally faded into the vast darkness like a closing act.
Most of the instructors had already departed by this time; only a handful remained seated around their respective round tables, watching.
Loren had stayed until now without leaving.
Resting his chin on his interlaced fingers, he watched the screen like bloopers or bonus footage as the three clergymen set about preparing Viscount Augustine with practiced, second-nature familiarity.
"...I'm not watching anymore. I'm never watching Lanqi's Shadow Worlds again. No matter how he stirs up trouble, I don't care. Whoever asks, I don't know any Lanqi."
At last, Loren braced his hands on the table and stood up. His voice sounded extraordinarily exhausted as he walked toward the conference room door.
Yet the others knew.
Dean Loren probably wasn't just tired—he was completely numb.
And hearing even the most honest and earnest Dean Loren begin to shirk responsibility, they couldn't help but feel that even the dean was showing signs of losing his humanity!
Chapter 165