31 Holy Light and Corruption

Herbert’s sword was razor-sharp, capable of slicing through pig iron with ease—to say nothing of his fragile flesh. With a firm grip, he drove his palm against the blade, cutting deep. Blood immediately began to flow, trickling down the steel and into the coffin.

"Hiss!"

Herbert’s expression shifted slightly, his jaw tightening as he grit his teeth. These unruly commoners, not a single one of them was easy to deal with. First they wanted to take a bite out of him, then they tried to drown him, and now they wanted to drink his blood. Not a single good soul among them! It was truly too much; they had forced his hand! Since they showed him no mercy, he would show them none in return.

"The blood, I’m giving it to you!"

Herbert’s features contorted from the searing pain in his palm, but he didn't cry out. Instead, he forced a grin through gritted teeth. "Don't... you dare... be polite with me..."

Polite?

Eliza did not quite understand the boy’s intent. What on earth was he talking about? You are giving me your blood; why would I be polite?

"..."

Truth be told, she was uncertain of the situation. She couldn't tell if Herbert had broken free from her hypnosis or if he was only half-under, aware of the problem but still compelled to follow her commands.

The hesitation lasted only a few seconds before Eliza lost her reason.

Blood. Long-awaited blood! She had been starving for over a millennium, and now, finally, she could smell it once more.

*Slurp—ah!*

She no longer had the capacity to think. Only one thought remained in her mind: lick it up!

"Whatever, eat first!"

*Lap—*

"Ugh!!!"

The moment her tongue touched the blood, Eliza let out a sharp cry, wishing she could bite her own tongue off. Sweet, fragrant, rich—the blood seemed to contain a thousand flavors, all exploding in her mouth at once. Eliza had never tasted such blood, never in her life! She had never imagined that, after such a long, agonizing hunger, the first drop of blood she tasted would be of such extraordinary quality.

She couldn't help but tremble, letting out a long, moan-like sigh: "Ah..."

It was too wonderful. This taste was simply too... wait!!?

"Ugh!?"

Suddenly, Eliza felt a strange, piercing pain in her tongue, as if it were being scorched... No! It *was* being scorched!!?

*Sizzle—*

Eliza threw her head back and screamed.

"Ah! Damn it! What is wrong with your blood!!? My tongue!"

It wasn't just her tongue; her entire mouth, her throat, and her stomach were all feeling the intense, burning sensation. She felt as if she hadn't drunk blood at all, but highly concentrated holy water!

Wait... "This is holy water!?"

"Haha, you guessed it!"

Having heard her scream, Herbert could no longer contain his laughter. As he chuckled, he used a torn piece of his sleeve to roughly bandage his left hand.

Eliza writhed in agony, roaring, "But I didn't smell the scent of holy water... You—are you a Paladin!?"

"Congratulations, you’ve learned to jump to conclusions."

Herbert’s stigmata glowed on the back of his hand, confirming what he had just done: transmuting his blood into holy water. For the clergy, holy water was an essential tool in battles against creatures of darkness. Its source generally fell into two categories—mass-produced by the Church or crafted by individual clerics. The Church’s supply was high-yield, stable, and affordable, often sold to common adventurers. However, self-made holy water varied greatly depending on the quality of the materials used.

Herbert didn't carry holy water, nor did he have the materials to make it, but he possessed an advantage no one else could claim. He was a Paladin who had taken a Vow of Purity; his blood was synonymous with the highest grade of "Blood of Purity," a rare and precious magical material. Holy water crafted from "Blood of Purity" was always of the highest possible concentration and quality.

That was why Herbert had said, "Don't you dare be polite with me!"

You wanted my blood? I’ll give it to you! Poisoned!

Herbert curled his lips into a smile, leaned toward the coffin, and whispered with malicious intent, "Miss Eliza, please enjoy the baptism of the Holy Light."

Savor the corruption of the Holy Light to your heart's content!

"You damn—ah!!!"

Had Eliza been in her prime, this amount of holy water would have been nothing; she could have easily neutralized it. But unfortunately, Eliza was no longer the Blood-Fallen who could slay other vampire princes. She was weak. Very, very weak!

*Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle—*

The blood Herbert had fed her acted like a lethal toxin, rapidly polluting the remnants of her own essence. Realizing she couldn't let this continue, Eliza knew she had to take drastic measures.

"Damn it..."

In desperation, she was forced to cut her losses. She struck her own chest, spitting out a spray of blood against the wall of the coffin.

*Hiss—*

Even though the blood emitted a faint holy glow, it quickly dissolved, releasing an odor she found repulsive.

"..."

Though she had forcibly expelled the tainted blood, Eliza’s aura plummeted further, leaving her even weaker than before. This time, Eliza had suffered a total defeat. Not only had she gained nothing, but she had also burned through most of her remaining reserves. It was a complete and utter loss.

*Rustle—*

Hearing the sound, Eliza recoiled in alarm, trying to avoid any incoming attack. But she had thought too much. Having successfully ambushed her once, Herbert did not try to repeat the same trick.

He retrieved his sword with his right hand, and while doing so, he pried at the gap, successfully widening it to the width of two fingers.

Hm?

Eliza stared at the widened opening, hesitated, then pressed her eye against it to peer outside.

In the darkness, a white-haired boy, his body glowing with a faint, ethereal light, stood holding a blood-stained sword. He smiled, winked at her, and said in a cheery, bright tone, "Miss Eliza, we finally meet."

"Hmm?"

Eliza squinted, scrutinizing Herbert, bracing herself for his next move.

But Herbert did not attack. He stared at the crimson eye visible through the gap, smiled elegantly, sheathed his sword behind his back, and offered a slight bow toward the coffin.

"We’ve been chatting so happily for quite a while, but I haven't even introduced myself."

He wore a gentle expression, his eyes filled with warmth as if nothing had just happened. He chuckled softly at Eliza:

"Pleased to meet you. I am Herbert, a humble Paladin."

"I hope we can get a-long-very-well!"

.

.

Dusk.

In a secluded, desolate corner, a frail figure in a black robe hunched over, body trembling violently. His arm moved in rapid, jerky motions as he let out ragged, heavy gasps.

"Ha, ha... ha!"

Accompanied by a certain slick sound, his movements grew faster and more frantic. But just as his soul and body were about to reach their peak, an ill-timed voice rang out.

"...Hm? Is someone there?"