The First Pope - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Pretending to be vampires sounded like a simple proposal, but it was quite complicated to execute.

Not only did their eye color need to be changed, but their scent also had to be disguised. This disguise wasn't as simple as just masking Cynthia's scent with the fragrance of some leaves like before.

Each vampire clan had a distinct scent. Although the clan scent was fainter on seventh or eighth-generation vampires, it was the only way they could identify their own kind.

Without a proper disguise in this regard, they would easily be exposed by other vampires.

Chelsea crouched on the ground and took out a pile of things from her Space Gem: colorful leaves, bones from some unknown animal, and some strange clumps of dirt. She lowered her head and carefully sorted them, occasionally lifting one to sniff its scent.

Cynthia stood to the side, watching with great interest as Chelsea handled these items. Her curiosity about witchcraft grew. "Are there any requirements for practicing witchcraft?"

"Can the God Race practice it?"

Having witnessed the cruelty of this continent, Cynthia was now eager to learn some skills that could save her life.

"No," Chelsea said, taking out two cloth bags and carefully placing the sorted materials inside. "You are not from a witch family. You don't have witch power in your blood."

"Witch family?"

"There are three witch families. I'm from the Morgan Family. Besides us, there are the Garcia and Anderson families. We live on the Capri Plains. Because our blood contains witch power, we are also targets for the vampires."

Cynthia blinked. "Do vampires gain strength from drinking your blood?"

Chelsea shook her head. "No. They just think it tastes good."

After the gods left the Sitatul Continent, the vampires, free from any threat, became even more rampant. They hunted all the other races, and in just a thousand years, the continent had completely become their hunting ground.

It wasn't that no race had ever fought back. The Elf Race, favored by the Goddess of the Forest, and the Wolf Race, pets of the God of War, both remained on the Sitatul Continent after the gods departed. They were born with great strength, but unfortunately, due to problems with reproduction, the combined population of both races was far smaller than that of a single vampire clan.

Only the humans far outnumbered the vampires, but humans were too weak and lacked a firm will. They were simply no match.

As for the witches... Chelsea's hands, which were arranging the materials, paused for a moment, and her brow furrowed slightly. For the past few hundred years, they too had been searching for a way to fight back against the vampires.

After placing the mixed ingredients into a cloth bag, Chelsea lowered her head and sniffed it. Seeing no issue, she handed it to Cynthia and said, "Alright, let's go."

With the most troublesome step completed, changing their eye color only required a small spell. Cynthia checked herself in an ice mirror Chelsea produced. Seeing that her eyes had turned red, she nodded. She opened her mouth slightly, pointed to her teeth, and asked curiously, "Don't vampires have fangs?"

Chelsea thought for a moment and cast another small spell on both of them, making their canine teeth sharper.

Cynthia gently patted her shoulder and praised her with a smile, "You're so reliable, Chelsea."

Chelsea took the initiative to apologize. "I'm sorry, I forgot." She paused, then honestly voiced her concern. "I think I might give us away."

She had never done anything like this before.

Cynthia was adjusting her cloak when she heard Chelsea's words. She chuckled and shook her head. "Then you should just talk less."

Although they hadn't even reached Stone Town yet, Cynthia had a feeling they had already failed.

But even if the situation was dire, Cynthia maintained a calm and composed demeanor. This gave Chelsea some confidence. She pulled down the hood of her cloak and said in a low voice, "I will cooperate with you."

Cynthia glanced at her and gave a noncommittal smile.

The Silver Knights' method for distinguishing between vampires and humans was, first, to observe their dress and demeanor. Humans wore tattered clothes and were mostly timid and terrified when they encountered them. Vampires, on the other hand, were different. They were dressed magnificently, had a powerful aura, and always treated the knights with disdain and arrogance.

Second, vampires possessed a strength the knights envied. They could easily snap their longswords, and their imposing presence often made it hard for the knights to breathe.

In their eyes, vampires and humans were easy to tell apart. So, when the Silver Knights guarding Stone Town saw a tall, stunningly beautiful, silver-haired vampire, accompanied by another vampire completely shrouded in a black cloak who looked very mysterious, wanting to enter the town, they didn't doubt their identities in the slightest and respectfully welcomed them in.

"That vampire lord must have a very high status," one Silver Knight said to his companion, looking at Cynthia's back. "Her eyes are red."

And she was incredibly beautiful.

"We have to inform Viscount Bert." The higher a vampire's status, the more eccentric their personality. If they got angry because they weren't properly entertained, all of them would suffer.

Of course, they might suffer even if they were entertained well, because vampires were just that eccentric.

Getting into the town so easily surprised Chelsea. She looked around and whispered to Cynthia, "There are far more vampires here than I imagined."

If she had rushed in to rescue people, she might never have gotten out.

It seemed Cynthia's method was indeed much more reliable than hers.

Cynthia discreetly observed her surroundings. The town's roads were wide, lined with small manors. At the entrance of each manor was an iron cage containing sparsely clad humans, mostly young men and women, for hungry vampires to choose from.

The clattering of iron chains reached her ears. Cynthia turned her head and saw a vampire who wanted to feed opening a cage. He casually picked a young girl, threw her over his shoulder, and leaped into the manor.

The scene disgusted Cynthia. She looked away, her expression turning cold.

Although she already knew the humans' situation was terrible, seeing it with her own eyes made Cynthia realize the reality was a hundred times worse than she had imagined.

Because being secretive might arouse suspicion, while Chelsea was wrapping herself up tightly, Cynthia did the opposite, undoing her cloak and putting it away. The moon-white robe she wore was made of some unknown material, magnificent and luxurious, and it shimmered with a faint white light under the sun.

She undid a few of the buttons that went up to her collar, revealing her delicate collarbones. It was a look that was both elegant and casual. Just by standing there quietly, she attracted many appraising glances.

However, no matter how much they stared, no vampire approached. Chelsea's witchcraft had not only fooled the Silver Knights but also these vampires. The red eyes, a symbol of noble status, made them hesitant to get close.

But this would be exposed sooner or later. Cynthia didn't think it would be long before a vampire noticed something was off about them. She raised a hand to her chin, not wanting to waste any more time. Her gaze swept the area, trying to find a Silver Knight to target.

Suddenly, the sound of orderly footsteps came from behind them. Chelsea turned and saw Silver Knights running toward them. Her heart sank, thinking they had been exposed, and the hand at her side rose slightly.

Cynthia was also startled to see the squad of Silver Knights, but she quickly recovered. She reached out and pressed down on Chelsea's wrist, giving her a slight shake of her head.

The Silver Knights stopped in front of Cynthia and Chelsea. One spoke respectfully, "My lords, Viscount Bert has prepared a banquet at the Rose Manor to welcome you."

A banquet? Chelsea subconsciously looked at Cynthia.

Cynthia squeezed Chelsea's wrist, then let go. After a moment's thought, she beckoned to the Silver Knight with her finger.

The Silver Knight approached, trembling. When Cynthia's hand rested on his shoulder, he felt not joy, but terror.

Chelsea received Cynthia's signal. Her lips moved silently. The Silver Knight's legs suddenly felt heavy, and he involuntarily dropped to his knees. To an outsider, it looked as if he had collapsed under the pressure of Cynthia's aura.

"Viscount Bert? Which great lord is that? Why haven't I heard of him?" The silver-haired vampire's gentle tone sounded like the whisper of death to the Silver Knight.

He was drenched in a cold sweat, terrified that the silver-haired vampire would snap his neck at the slightest displeasure.

The vampires watching from the sides let out jeers. Such scenes excited them, though they would have been even more excited if there was blood.

A viscount's status was only slightly higher than these Silver Knights. After hearing that the knights had been rebuffed, Viscount Bert couldn't sit still. He abandoned his carriage and came running over.

Seeing Viscount Bert, Cynthia realized that not all humans were living poorly. The one before her was living quite comfortably, as evidenced by his physique, which was nearly the width of two people.

Viscount Bert was so fat that the short run had him breaking out in a nervous sweat, but he didn't dare wipe it. He approached with a fawning expression and apologized profusely, "Your esteemed lordships, please forgive me. As soon as I heard of your arrival, I was busy selecting delicious food and forgot to come and invite you personally."

"Please don't be angry, my lords." Viscount Bert gave a look to the Silver Knight captain behind him. The captain drew his longsword, looking as if he was about to run through the knight who was kneeling and trembling on the ground.

Cynthia frowned for a moment, then relaxed. She took a handkerchief from her Space Gem, casually wiped her hands, then tossed it aside. Glancing at Viscount Bert, her red lips curved slightly. "I hear you have some... special food here?"

Viscount Bert raised a hand to wipe his sweat. "Yes, yes, yes. Whatever food my lord desires, I will find it for you."

Cynthia gestured for Viscount Bert to lead the way and said lightly, "Any food will do, as long as it's not human."

"I've grown tired of human blood."

Viscount Bert nodded repeatedly. He whispered a few instructions to the knight captain, then led Cynthia and Chelsea away with a broad smile plastered on his face.

A plan full of holes, conceived out of desperation, had somehow successfully completed its first half, thanks to the vampires' transcendent status and this foolish viscount.

Cynthia sat at the side of a long dining table, finding the situation somewhat amusing.

In the vast banquet hall, the dining table took up a third of the space. To please the vampires, Viscount Bert had put in a lot of effort. Fresh red roses were paired with golden candelabras, and the warm candlelight made the evening banquet a feast for the eyes.

Viscount Bert didn't dare sit at the table with Cynthia and Chelsea. He beckoned to the darkness, and two maids entered with trays, carefully placing the glass cups from them onto the table.

The glasses were filled with thick, bright red blood. The rich, metallic scent made Chelsea frown.

Viscount Bert also took a glass of blood from the tray. He lowered his head and sniffed it. The heavy smell of blood made him a bit dizzy, but he still managed to force a smile, looking as if he were enjoying it. He said proudly, "This blood comes from a beautiful young girl who ate only fruit to sate her hunger. It's something I developed. Your lordships can have a taste. The last time Lord Wilton was here, he couldn't stop praising it."

As he spoke, he took a sip. Although he was a human, his inner desire to become a vampire led him to constantly imitate their behavior.

The blood, which tasted metallic, salty, and not very good, left him with a look of enjoyment on his face after he drank it. He looked expectantly at Cynthia and Chelsea.

Chelsea sat motionless, but Cynthia naturally picked up her glass and took a sip. "It's average, I suppose," she commented with little interest.

She put the glass down and rested her chin on her hand, her flat tone tinged with impatience. "Where are the people I asked for?"

Seeing that his attempts to curry favor were not working, Viscount Bert began to wipe his sweat again. "A few witches were captured some time ago, but they were taken to the neighboring Orca Town two days ago to be locked up."

He saw Cynthia frown and quickly added, "But please rest assured, my lords. I have already sent people to bring them back."

"Tomorrow!" Fearing Cynthia's wrath, Viscount Bert quickly promised, "They will be delivered to you first thing tomorrow morning."

Cynthia turned to look at Chelsea, her eyes questioning. Chelsea thought for a moment and nodded.

Cynthia pushed the glass away, stood up, and smiled. "My patience only lasts until tomorrow morning, Viscount Bert."

Viscount Bert nodded hastily, patting his chest and promising Cynthia that he would absolutely have the people delivered tomorrow.

Vampires had always been eccentric, and as a human, Viscount Bert had always been afraid of them. So when he saw Cynthia and Chelsea were leaving, he didn't dare stop them and quickly had a maid show them to their rooms to rest.

Vampires were fond of luxury, so the rooms Viscount Bert arranged for Cynthia and Chelsea were very opulent. A soft, large bed took up a third of the space, and in an inner chamber, there was a hot spring pool fed from some unknown source.

"You play the part of a vampire very well," Chelsea said in a low voice, standing next to Cynthia.

If she didn't know Cynthia's true identity, she would have been fooled too.

The salty, metallic taste of blood still lingered in her mouth. Cynthia searched the room but couldn't find any water or anything similar. She sighed silently. "It only fools humans."

"And foolish humans like Viscount Bert at that."

"If they don't bring the people tomorrow, we'll have to leave anyway." Cynthia gazed into the night and mused, "The curiosity of those vampires outside won't last more than two days."

When they were confronting the Silver Knights earlier, some vampires had already wanted to approach.

Chelsea nodded. Just as she was about to speak, she sensed something and turned her head toward the door.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a maid's nervous voice from outside. "My lords, Viscount Bert has sent some food for your midnight snack."

Cynthia frowned and said in a low voice, "Bring it in."

The maid opened the door. A Silver Knight carried in a brown-haired girl, placed her on the floor, and then turned and left.

The brown-haired girl wore only a dress, her arms and thighs exposed. She sat on the floor, trembling.

Chelsea took a blanket from the bed and tossed it to the girl. "Be quiet," she said flatly. "You can sleep here tonight."

The blanket gave the girl a sense of security. She seemed not to have expected a vampire to be so gentle. She looked up at Chelsea, her eyes moist.

When she looked up, Cynthia noticed the girl was quite clean-looking. With tears in her eyes, she looked even more pitiable. Cynthia shook her head slightly, walked over, and stroked the girl's hair. "Poor little lamb," she said softly.

"What's your name?"

"I-I'm Gia." Gia flinched fearfully as Cynthia approached, but the hand on her head was gentle and soon soothed her anxiety. She asked timidly, "C-can I really sleep here tonight?"

She didn't want to go back to that cold cage.

"Of course, you can." Cynthia reached out and pulled Gia up. Just as she was about to withdraw her hand after Gia was steady on her feet, a voice suddenly flashed through her mind, making her pause.

Cynthia's gentleness made Gia a little bolder. She looked straight at Cynthia with her tear-filled eyes, hesitating to speak.

Cynthia calmly withdrew her hand. Though her lips were curved, the smile was faint. Her tone changed from gentle to somewhat cold as she asked, "You have something to say?"

Gia dropped to her knees with a thud, hugging Cynthia's leg and sobbing quietly. "C-can you turn me into a vampire?"

"I'll do anything. I'll be obedient, and I'll catch more food for you."

"...I don't want to go back to that cage again."

These two vampires were the gentlest Gia had ever met, and she didn't want to miss this opportunity.

Maybe... maybe this vampire would take pity on her. Gia looked at Cynthia with anticipation, tear stains still on her face, making her look like an innocent fawn.

But this fawn could no longer arouse any sympathy from Cynthia or Chelsea.

Hearing the girl's words, Chelsea's brow furrowed tightly, and her gaze turned cold. Humans were always like this. They had no thought of resisting the vampires; instead, they fantasized about joining them and capturing their own kind for them.

Did they ever stop to think if vampires would so easily embrace an outsider? Besides, seventh and eighth-generation vampires had low status; to the clans in the Blood Domain, they weren't even considered true vampires.

"The price of becoming a vampire is to hunt your own kind and feed on their blood. Do you not care about that?" Cynthia pinched the girl's chin, forcing her to look up. Seeing her dazed expression, she shook her head and sighed. "Even if you become a vampire, you'll still be a weak little lamb."

"A lamb shouldn't naively dream that those fang-baring monsters will treat you kindly. Only prey that fights back has a chance of intimidating the predator."

"Resisting might not change anything, but if you don't resist, you will always be prey."

Cynthia looked at the girl's blank and confused face and suddenly felt bored. She let go of her hand and stood up.

"Don't..." the girl pleaded, hugging Cynthia's leg. "Lord Vampire, please save me..."

A gray shadow appeared silently behind the girl and struck her hard on the back of the head. The girl felt a sharp pain, and her vision went black as she passed out.

Chelsea waved her hand to disperse the gray shadow and said expressionlessly, "Now it's quiet."

Cynthia raised a hand to rub her brow and replied jokingly, "You should have done that sooner."

Chelsea nodded seriously. "I will next time."

Cynthia smiled, then walked to the window and opened it slightly. The night wind blew in, clearing the stuffiness from the room. She crossed her arms in front of her, her left thumb gently rubbing the palm of her right hand as she lowered her gaze in thought.

She had just heard the girl's inner thoughts again, and the trigger had been her hand touching the girl's palm.

This trigger was the same as back in the cave when that woman had accidentally grabbed her hand.

But when she had tried to experiment with Chelsea later, it hadn't worked.

Cynthia looked down at her own palm, lost in thought. Perhaps this was a God Race ability?

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