TBR CH74

Not everyone in the royal capital has sworn an oath to the God of Light.  

Of course, the Church of Light is the state religion, and its temples are everywhere. But there will always be those unwilling to pledge their entire being to any entity claiming superiority over them, even at the cost of forfeiting power and authority they might otherwise attain. Some among humanity strive relentlessly to hone themselves, while others strike fleeting bargains with non-humans, becoming mercenaries or assassins.  

They serve the nobility, motivated solely by wealth.  

“Azure Whisper” is far from just a simple tavern. In truth, it is the largest intelligence exchange hub in the entire royal capital, as well as the most convenient market where one can purchase a life with coin. At 9:34 PM that evening, the chime above the tavern door jingled softly. Without even looking up, the owner knew who had entered. Wiping a glass idly, he asked,  

“Haven’t seen you in a while. How’ve you been Has that injury of yours healed?”  

The newcomer tipped his hat. His muscles were taut and powerful, a vicious scar running across his face, making even his smile somewhat menacing. He sighed and took a seat at a nearby table.  

Most people learned to shut their mouths the moment they saw him.  

“Same as always,” grumbled the leader of the largest mercenary group, “Silver Wolf.” His mood seemed sour. Without needing to be asked, a large mug of ice-cold beer was placed before him. He took a slow sip. “Sometimes I envy those old fossils in the Church,” he mused.  

No priest would ever visit a rowdy tavern in private, so he spoke freely. “Power beyond humanity—how do they put it? ‘The grace of the God of Light can heal your wounds.’ Hah. Sounds nice. People like us have to scrounge for nameless foreign healers in the black market and pay exorbitant sums for the privilege.”  

“Speaking of elves,” the tavern owner interjected, “did you hear about the old doctor who lived on Gold Coin Street He was killed.”  

The mercenary leader stared blankly at the swirling liquid in his mug before sighing, as if that alone answered the question.  

“Such times we live in. He was the only one who charged fair prices. I’ve half a mind to join the Church of Light myself, but they’d never take me. Too notorious, too… irreverent. And they’d be right about that.”  

They shared a dry chuckle, then fell into a brief silence, as though laughter had snuffed out their words.  

“I mean…” The tavern owner suddenly lowered his voice. His clouded, world-weary eyes now gleamed with an odd brightness, as if hiding a youthful sun within. He leaned in conspiratorially, winking at the mercenary captain. “Have you heard The news. Not many know yet, but if you’re interested…”  

The mug emptied, landing on the table with a faint, crisp clink.  

The mercenary stared intently at the tavern owner before exhaling heavily. “So it’s true,” he said. “I had a feeling if anyone had reliable intel, it’d be you. But you know… I can’t help feeling like we’re on the cusp of something.”  

“A good omen?”  

“Can’t say for sure until you tell me more,” the man mused, lost in thought for a moment. “But I think it’s good. And it’ll change everything. The current order, the established hierarchy—at the very least, ‘Silver Wolf’ will have to adapt.”  

They talked well into the night, until the tavern had no choice but to lower its curtains and usher out the drunken patrons. Under the silver-white moonlight, those still awake harbored their own thoughts. Whispers, for now confined to the shadows, flitted through their minds.  

But no one doubted that these fragments of conversation would brew into an unprecedented storm.  

A storm that would herald—and only herald—one truth:  

The advent of a new god.  

—  

Edwin raised his blade under the silver moonlight. The gleaming tip pressed against the throat of a fanged creature as he demanded,  

“Where is your king?”  

He had grown accustomed to this motion. These days, Adelaide had served as his instructor, drilling him endlessly on the angles and pressures needed to slice through flesh. The blade now felt like an extension of his will. He spent his days honing his skills and his nights attending to other matters—sometimes killing, sometimes roses.  

For now, he remained the Pope of the Church of Light, and hunting the fugitive Saint was his duty. Of course, his motives were now far more personal. He had already learned everything about Noah from the God of Darkness.  

Beyond what Tal had told him, the black dragon had spent the past two days tearfully reminiscing about his lovesick past.  

Edwin withdrew the blade. The vampire gasped for air, tears of fear streaming down its face. A fraction more, and the razor-sharp edge would have claimed its life. The bishop’s indifferent gaze flickered as he commanded,  

“Take me to him.”  

—  

Normally, Edward would spend a full moon night leisurely sipping a goblet of blood like fine wine, enjoying the company of a beautiful companion. But tonight was different. Restless, he knocked over his glass, the blood spilling across the floor. Servants scurried in silently to clean, not daring to make a sound.  

The terrace was adorned with blooming roses, but there were no beauties—only a hooded, faceless figure in black robes.  

The figure seemed unable to speak directly, relying on a device to emit a hoarse, grating voice. Yet Edward heard every word clearly. These former lovers now stood at daggers drawn, closer to enemies than anything else.  

Noah knew Edward no longer held any love for him without his halo. With nowhere else to turn, he had come to his former lover to demand aid before his betrayal was fully exposed.  

“…So,” his voice carried a tinge of bitterness, “now that I’ve lost my looks, you no longer love me? You won’t even offer me shelter?”  

“Of course, I—”  

Edward nearly blurted out that openly defying the God of Light was a terrible idea for anyone in the world—unless you were the God of Darkness himself. But he wasn’t. Agitated, he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of this liability. Yet Noah’s accusations pricked at his conscience, stirring a strange dissonance.  

He had loved this boy so obsessively, so madly. Where had that passion gone?  

According to Noah, he had done nothing wrong. It was only after their affair was discovered by the God of Light that he suffered such cruel retribution. As a ruler, admitting powerlessness and handing over a former lover was hardly dignified.  

But dignity was the least of his concerns now.  

“I know all your secrets, Edward,” Noah threatened. “You held nothing back from me before. If my contacts don’t receive word of my safety, every conspiracy and scheme of the vampires will be exposed. I doubt you can afford the consequences.”  

“What do you want?”  

The figure before him had become utterly repulsive, yet Edward had to admit the threat held weight—assuming Noah wasn’t bluffing.  

The boy spoke in a tone Edward had never heard before—greedy and vile.  

“Get me out of the royal capital. And give me a substantial sum.”  

“Impossible,” Edward frowned. “The Church of Light has locked down the city. The new Pope allows no suspicious entries or exits. He—”  

“He’s just a man, no matter how powerful.”  

Noah refused to yield. “I have tools at my disposal. Once I’m beyond the city, I can disappear. You’re the Vampire King—surely this isn’t beyond you?”  

Easier said than done. Edward swallowed the words, “How did you become like this?” Disappointment and disgust flashed in his eyes, but Noah was right. If he could spirit the boy away without alerting the God of Light, it might be the lesser evil.  

“Fine. As you say—”  

Before Edward could finish, Noah’s eyes lit up with hope.  

The past two days had been hell for the boy who had lost everything. He had scurried through the city like a startled rat, finding no rest. Every heartbeat synced with approaching footsteps, each moment more desperate than the last. Noah had tried hiding in every conceivable place, yet nothing worked.  

The moment he paused to catch his breath, his pursuers closed in.  

He had no choice but to rely on the tools Adelaide had left him, teleporting from one location to another. The dragon’s artifacts were his most precious assets in this flight, but no treasure could guarantee safety. With each use, Noah felt the magic within them wane.  

He had to find a way out—or be worn down to death within these walls.

Wasted to death.

This word It made him involuntarily shiver. He felt as if he had been targeted by a venomous snake, to the point that his spine turned cold. Sometimes, he suspected those perfectly timed chances to escape—were they intentional? Could it be that his opponent simply wanted to watch him flee in panic, smug over temporary safety?

In any case— even though he was extremely unwilling to take the risk of seeking help from his ex-lover, that still seemed like the only option. Just don’t trust love again, because that was absolutely the most useless way to solve a problem right now.

As long as he could leave the royal city.

He held on to that hope: if he could just leave the royal city, hiding wouldn’t be that difficult. He might be able to vanish completely, like a tree hidden in a forest. Even if that hope was baseless, both emotionally and logically, it was the only lifeline Noah could grab hold of.

What Edward said next was practically life-saving.

Noah couldn’t help but light up with joy, staring hard at the vampire king’s mouth, trying to capture the words before they melted into the air.

Right at that moment, Edward fell silent.

The atmosphere instantly turned solemn and terrifying. It was as if some ominous venom were flowing through the air, and the roses on the terrace gleamed with a demonic glow under the moonlight. This place was heavily guarded by vampire sentries, and extremely well hidden—it was supposed to be. However, just beneath the terrace, a human stood there, raising his eyes to them, and his eyes were gray like mist.

Too late, Noah thought. Just like always, he activated the device immediately.

But the device flickered weakly, as if it were on the verge of running out of power.

Noah bit his lip, his teeth leaving deep marks. But by then, no one could see—his ruined face was hidden tightly under layers of black fabric. Just a brief flutter from the wind was enough to completely replace the last trace of tenderness in Edward’s eyes with fear and disgust.

He pressed hard on the device, trying desperately to push it all the way down.

This time, it worked.

This might also be its last time working.

Edward was still in a state of stunned shock. He instinctively wanted to call for the guards but suddenly realized that if this human had reached here and no alarm had gone off, then something must have already happened. He turned his gaze—only to find that the youth, tightly wrapped in black cloth beside him, had already vanished without a trace.

“Nice to meet you.”

The human below stood quietly. His gray pupils fully captured the moment Noah disappeared, but there was no ripple in those calm eyes. Edward suddenly felt a terrifying throb in his chest. The vampire king, dressed in ornate robes and covered in powerful defensive artifacts, stood high on the platform—yet, why did he feel a strong illusion—

“I failed to protect him.”

With things as they were, Edward spoke as kindly as he could, “You see, Noah’s already gone. If you truly represent the will of the God of Light, then there’s no need for you to linger here. I don’t even know where he went.”

“I came here for you.”

But the ominous feeling became reality.

The human said so, stepping forward slightly, seeming to smile just a little.

“Don’t worry. He believes I should now hunt bigger prey. That’s all.”

—

Tal took a walk around the vampire royal city’s residence.

This place wasn’t as secure as his own house, but it was still quite good. From the outside, it was just a nondescript brick wall at the end of a small alley. But inside, it was a different world. Edward, according to his own tastes, had arranged a courtyard that was lavish to the point of tackiness, and even built a Gothic-style castle.

Finding this place was no easy feat.

However, Noah’s space-shifting device had become the most powerful tracking clue. The moment the youth entered the castle, the secret of this place was completely exposed to Edwin.

The demon’s eyes were clear and beautiful, glancing at the surrounding rose bushes, then shifting away with slight disdain. He walked alone through the heavily guarded vampire residence without any clear direction. Even when he passed by statues inlaid with precious jewels, he didn’t pause at all. That way, at least, he didn’t look like a thief.

An intruder was worse than a thief.

Edwin had only dealt with the guards from the entrance to a certain point inside. But Tal was wandering aimlessly, making no effort to hide, and caught the attention of the guards on the other side. The vampire guards immediately pulled back their bowstrings, sharp arrowheads aimed directly at the intruder, sternly commanding him to halt and assessing the threat level.

The demon didn’t look powerful.

Soft, straight black hair like raven feathers lay obediently over his shoulders. He lifted his eyes to the guards—those eyes didn’t have the feral vertical pupils of a high-ranking demon, but were a vivid red like bright rubies.

A low-ranking demon.

Though suspicious, he was just a low-ranking demon. The guards’ breathing relaxed slightly. They still glared sternly at the outsider, their bows drawn, voices harsh:

“Who are you? How did you get in?”

“I got lost.”

The demon spoke slowly, seeming unconcerned by the arrows pointed at him. Those tips were made of mithril, able to harm all creatures equally—and right now, they were aimed directly at his heart.

That answer was clearly a lie. No outsider could accidentally wander into the vampires’ heavily fortified domain. The guards suddenly had a bad feeling. They listened carefully for sounds from the front gate—but heard nothing. What they did catch was the scent of fresh blood.

Their expressions changed, and they were about to head over to check.

—But before that, there was no point in leaving the demon alive. Intruders were to be killed on sight. That was their assigned duty. So the guards narrowed their eyes, locking onto the demon’s movements. Prey always tried to flee before death—they had to predict the direction, then eliminate him.

Tal smiled.

Arrows rained down. Silver-bright tips slammed into the ground, landing all around the demon.

But it wasn’t because the guards lost focus and missed their shots. Tal lifted his gaze toward them—by now, they were collapsed in all directions, sprawled across the ground. And behind them, Edwin was walking toward him.

“No need to be in such a rush,”

Tal said, “It wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t step in. Not much time had passed. I thought you were still handling things on that side.”

“It’s already done,”

Edwin said quietly. He held a staff that now glowed with a bloody light, as if to underscore the implication behind those words. Yet when he stopped beside Tal, all that sharpness faded. The rose-scented aura from the demon enveloped him, and the bishop’s gray eyes softened.

“I just missed you.”

“I missed you too…”

Tal leaned in and hugged him briefly, then asked softly,

“You didn’t kill him, right? Though even if you did, it wouldn’t really matter.”

Of course Edwin hadn’t killed Edward.

He had neither the reason nor the need—especially when Edward, in a moment of panic and under threat of death, proposed many unequal treaties that could be signed. Tal had thought it would take more time, but in reality, once Edward heard the bishop’s request, he agreed with almost no hesitation.

“I just didn’t expect that behind you was… that Lord.”

The vampire king had chosen his words carefully. If one ignored his slight disarray—like the blade at his throat or his usually neat hair now a mess—the scene could almost be considered a diplomatic encounter.

Tal listened to the account, his eyes shining with laughter.

“Let’s go.”

He took Edwin’s hand. “The vampires have made their choice. Edwin, the power in your hands has grown again. That’s a difficult race to control, a bit eccentric, and with questionable taste…”

What started as a serious conversation soon turned into Tal sharing personal stories—like one time, a thousand years ago, when he encountered a particularly troublesome vampire traveler. They had to spend two full days and nights together. As a prank, Tal had put minced garlic in dinner, and the other party almost fought him to the death.

Edwin couldn’t help but smile, the sea mist in his eyes gentle and moist.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Not what?” Tal asked. The mood was good, and they were almost home.

“The power in my hands.” Edwin replied. “That’s not entirely it. Edward didn’t yield just because I won. It was because of you. I don’t mean to draw a line between us… but my power belongs to you too. At least half of it is completely shared with you. Just see me as a believer offering everything to his god—I do it willingly. I really want to give it all to you.”

Tal turned the doorknob. The door slid open lightly, and moonlight poured into the courtyard.

“Want to be my bishop?”

Because that sounded like something a devout follower would say. Tal had long since noticed the preparations Edwin had made in the royal city. He had once been swept up by rumors—and now, he was the one skillfully manipulating them, an ambitious schemer. Tal had once asked the bishop if he’d like a change of workplace. The bishop’s reply was that he would make a thorough plan—for their future.

Edwin, a little helpless and indulgent, reminded him, “The highest rank is pope—that’s my current position. Unless…”

“Unless the Dark Church has no crown higher than bishop.”

Tal replied, repeating the words to himself and then chuckling. “Though I must say, the ‘Dark Church’ sounds a little weird.”

“Does it?” Edwin asked in return.

Edwin countered with a question.

“No,” the god slightly tilted his head? Looking at the human beside him, there was undoubtedly indulgence in his eyes, “Us? The bishop here is the biggest.”

What made this still-embryonic Dark Church unique was not just the arrangement of positions.

Strictly speaking, what Edwin intended to establish was not a church in the traditional sense. Tarchsus hated believers, would rather decide to have none at all, giving up the method by which gods increased their power through faith. In ancient times, different gods had their own worship, but now, the Church only represented the Church of the God of Light.

The bishop was very clear that the Church of the God of Light was a thoroughly twisted existence for Tarch.

In the judgment system of the Church, faith was the standard by which everything was measured. Believers were required to offer everything to their god, even if only verbally, repeating such words again and again would imperceptibly affect people. If humans wanted to obtain power, they first had to become servants, and their actions would be strictly restricted.

This path was twisted.

Edwin had to walk this path because it was the only one. He had to pretend to be humble, pretend to believe, pretend to be devout—only then could he approach the center of power step by step, treading on bones, and covering the bones with flowers.

He wasn’t the only one walking on the blade’s edge. People in the Church were not entirely devout, but they had to fulfill tedious rules, tirelessly proving their loyalty in order to gain power; those outside the Church could not obtain power—no matter what being they prayed to, it was easy to fall into a vortex, and in the end, they could only live out their lives as mere humans. Even wanting to join the Church wasn’t necessarily easy.

The bishop knew that if he replicated an identical church, Tarch would not reject it. There was no doubt that Tarch was just that nice. Precisely because of this, he tried to think of another path.

What if a church didn’t require a display of faith?

What if the Church didn’t blur the lines between divine reward and the offerings of believers, but instead clearly accounted for every transaction?

Like a trade—gain power, and at the same time return compensation. Compared to the God of Light’s vague methods, this return would be far more intuitive. Edwin had done the math: according to his plan, people would borrow the Dark God’s source of power, increase their abilities through killing and training, and clearly pay rent with listed prices.

When the number of people grew, when the size of the congregation increased, the power Tarchsus could gain would far surpass that of the God of Light.

“Have I ever told you, you’re really a genius.”

After hearing Edwin’s plan, the god couldn’t help but sigh with admiration.

The thing was, Edwin hadn’t merely come up with a concept. He had thoroughly set up the Church’s power structure and top-down management system, and even designed the contracts and guarantees for the exchange and payment, establishing a personnel review mechanism.

He had even calculated short-term and long-term development expectations and discreetly released a bit of vague information. The message spread within limited circles; when people mentioned it, they were serious and solemn. Those who initially needed to know had already been given ample space for consideration.

The bishop didn’t mind going a little overboard. Even if he used himself for publicity, it didn’t matter.

His apostasy was only a matter of time.

So, during this period, even some unexpected visitors appeared?.

“Are you sure?”

An unexpected time, an unexpected person, an unexpected request.

Edwin confirmed once again. The person in front of him took a deep breath, but still trembled and firmly nodded. So the bishop reached out and pressed the contract on the table,

“Then, as you wish.”