The old man's bow was truly exemplary. Not many servants from the Thorne mansion can compete with him.
It was perfectly angled, straight as it could be. Any arrogant noble would be truly impressed and forgive all wrongdoing.
There was only one problem: Cyril shouldn't have been the target of this bow.
He lowered his hands, finding the situation bizarre.
Still, the subtly growing pain in the middle of his chest made him grasp at this opportunity.
"Go. Don't let this happen again," Cyril said, as if mercifully letting them go.
Rhamn.
"Fine."
Lucrezia on the ground finally stopped twitching. She lay on her back, her eyes glazed over.
"Thank you!" the old man exclaimed, genuine relief on his face.
He crouched beside Lucrezia, and a dark cloud spread from him, covering them both. In a moment, the cloud retreated, disappearing out of his sight in a blur.
Now there was no one else in the building but him.
Cyril observed his surroundings for a second, just to see if anyone else wanted to show up. But no one did.
"Whatever. We can kill Lucrezia whenever we wish." Rhamn raised a fist in the air, her eyes still burning with excitement.
She turned to him, about to open her mouth. Clearly she was just dying to share her findings.
Wait.
Cyril motioned for her to stop.
…Let's deal with the mana first.
"Right!"
With some urgency, Cyril walked towards the door leading outside.
On the way Tigris ran out from his corner, climbing up to his shoulder where Atheris changed necks.
Morpho landed on his other shoulder, twitching her antennae in a cheering manner.
Finally, Cyril stepped outside, where the moon illuminated a peculiar scene.
In the center of the street was a crack in the ground, as if hit by something incredibly heavy.
Near the crack stood two figures, one of them familiar.
Ophelia?
His maid was standing with her back straight, staring down at a person in front of her.
He somewhat expected her to be close by. One of the servants had definitely notified her of his actions.
What he didn't expect was the person on the receiving end of her empty stare.
"…!"
It was a knight wearing plate armor. His hand was placed over the crystal sword at his waist as he warily glared at the maid.
"Interfering with the knight's duty is a serious offense. I could cut you down here and now," he said, a drop of sweat trickling down his head.
"You can try," Ophelia replied to the knight, her pitch-black eyes staring at him like at a corpse.
Before something bad could happen, Cyril hurriedly went between them.
"Enough. What's happening here?" he said, attracting their attention.
Ophelia immediately stepped away, politely bowing to him in greeting. But as she noticed his state, she quickly cast a healing spell, her face still expressionless.
The knight visibly relaxed as the maid's gaze left him. Gaining more confidence, he glared at Cyril twofold to compensate.
"Why is a noble in the slums, and why are you bloodied? But most importantly, why has your maid prevented me from pursuing a dangerous vampire?"
She did?
Cyril looked over the maid, though nothing could be gleaned from her face. She was fully focused on healing him, treating the knight as if he wasn't even there.
Demons and vampires...
"I have come here to visit a friend from the academy. Then, a vampire attacked me. That's all." Cyril casually said.
"Uh huh. And why did the maid prevent me from saving her master?"
The knight clearly didn't believe his words, making Cyril give an internal sigh of exhaustion.
"I wished to challenge one with my own strength. I told her not to let anyone interfere. Unfortunately, it escaped."
The knight looked at him like one would at a mentally deficient child, with confusion in his eyes.
"…I swear on my name as a Thorne, my words are true," Cyril helplessly added.
"Thorne?" the knight mumbled, his eyes shining with realization.
If it's a Thorne, then perhaps it's possible.
At this moment, the knight's expression changed, and he pulled out a pulsating crystal from his armor. Gleaning some message from it, he sent Cyril a warning look.
"I'll be reporting this to the Tower. We'll decide what the truth is ourselves. Don't try to hide."
With that, he jumped. In one leap he was gone from the place, though another crack was added to the ground.
Cyril observed his swift departure, giving one exhausted sigh.
He then glanced over at Ophelia, who was still trying to heal him with spells. She wasn't too proficient at them.
"There is a good healer in a local orphanage. Find me a mana potion first."
Ophelia immediately pulled out a vial from her sleeve, presenting it to him as if it were some treasure.
She had one? Good.
Cyril quickly grabbed it and drank it all till the last drop. Finally the suffocating feeling disappeared, allowing him to relax.
Without any tension, he looked around the dark street, his blue eyes half-narrowed.
That's when he discovered two bodies lying a short distance away.
"…"
It was Pete, the bearded priest, and Anna. They were lying behind a bench, somewhat obscured from sight.
Too focused on the knight, he completely missed them.
"What happened here?" Cyril said, slowly looking back at Ophelia.
The maid accepted his gaze without backing down.
"The priest attempted to use a miracle, so I knocked him out. The girl too, just to be safe," Ophelia said, her gaze sparkling as if expecting praise for a job well done.
"I see…"
He walked in front of Anna and briefly shook her body, though she was unresponsive. She was breathing, just not waking up.
"They might need a healer's attention," Ophelia casually said.
What did she do…?
He felt exhaustion wash over him.
…
After exchanging a short conversation with his maid, Cyril discovered she really meant it when she said they needed attention.
Pete's face was becoming increasingly pale. Ophelia stated flatly that the priest needed immediate assistance or he would die.
In a hurry, Cyril slung Anna over his shoulder and headed back to the orphanage.
Entering through its old wooden doors, Cyril was immediately greeted by the priestess of the Sky God, Catherine, and the local caretaker, Jessica. There was no sign of the children.
"What happened to Anna?" Jessica said, frowning.
She then looked over Cyril's bloodied state, more questions appearing in her eyes.
He told Rhamn to keep the injuries he got, just in case.
Catherine stood at a distance, observing with a sense of detachment. Though it didn't last long.
After Cyril came in Ophelia, a familiar priest hanging off her shoulder.
"Pete?!" Catherine exclaimed, panic on her face.
She ran in, grabbed Pete away from Ophelia, and cradled him in her arms, worriedly scanning him.
Her hand was enveloped in a warm golden radiance as it softly touched the priest's chest.
Staying like this for a few seconds, Catherine's eyes shook.
"Call Alvin! Now! Tell him if he doesn't come, I'll break his legs!"
Huh.
"First Luce, now this. People from the church are quite violent."
As Jessica hurriedly went into another room, presumably to call the healer, Catherine looked into Cyril's eyes, fury growing on her face.
"Who did this to him?" she growled.
Cyril struggled to not look at the maid nearby.
"…It was vampires, I think. When I saw him, he was like this already," he said instead.
"Vampires," Catherine slowly uttered.
There was a flame in her eyes. He could already imagine her picking up arms and storming whatever hole the vampires infested.
"How could Lucrezia do this? Hehe."