Finlad’s Church
Ever since the residents here had been relocated, the church had been repurposed as a makeshift infirmary for the wounded. A group of those afflicted with blood poison had been separately restrained in isolated chambers.
The priest had not abandoned these people, instead notifying their relatives in hopes that one or two might yet be saved.
Today, the stench of blood in the church was several times thicker than usual.
Wounded soldiers were being brought in continuously, a great many of them severely injured.
“Urgh… ahhhhh! Let me go!”
Having gone so long without the suppression of holy light, the blood poison patients were growing increasingly agitated.
Apprentice priest Marvin pressed down forcefully on a struggling patient while his companion cooperated by securing the ropes tightly.
“This won’t work—we still need holy light techniques to suppress them. Where is Priest Grannen?”
His companion glanced at the howling patients around them and shook his head:
“He’s still outside treating the wounded. Two more critically injured just arrived—the priest may not have the strength left to help them.”
“I’ll go ask.”
Marvin went outside and indeed saw the priest with one hand stuffing a soldier’s intestines back into place while casting healing spells with the other to keep him alive.
Only after the soldier’s condition finally stabilized did Marvin approach the priest:
“Priest Grannen, the blood poison patients must be suppressed with holy light techniques, or I’m afraid we won’t be able to hold out much longer.”
Grannen turned around, and only then did Marvin notice that his eyes lacked their usual vitality—he looked utterly exhausted.
These were the signs of magical power depletion.
Marvin figured there probably weren’t any holy light techniques left.
Sure enough, Grannen said with a pained expression:
“Marvin, take a sword and go in. Help those who cannot be saved… find release. I cannot abandon these people who can clearly be saved for blood poison patients whose hope is so slim. Whatever consequences arise, I’ll bear them.”
“Yes…”
Taking a soldier’s sword from against the wall, Marvin returned to the isolation chambers.
Several more had gone mad.
Seeing him return with a sword, his companion understood the meaning and walked out, unable to bear watching.
Walking up to a man who was struggling most violently, Marvin took a deep breath.
He knew this person—a patrol squad captain who had mistakenly drunk from a stream that had been tampered with during a mission, ending up like this.
“I’m sorry. May Iksion, Lord of Light, save your soul.”
The long sword pierced through the neck, ending the squad captain’s suffering.
Marvin sighed deeply and walked toward the next person.
This was a young female adventurer who, according to reports, had been attacked by bats while on a commission.
Half of her eyes had already turned red—a precursor to complete transformation and the most painful stage.
Yet she bit down hard, not crying out, only releasing muffled groans.
The sight filled Marvin with admiration.
What a pity.
The female adventurer caught the scent of blood on Marvin’s sword. She didn’t resist, only closed her eyes and trembled slightly, preparing to meet her tragic end.
“May Iksion, Lord of Light, save your soul.”
*Bang—*
The door burst open. This sudden turn of events left Marvin’s sword frozen in midair.
The newcomer wore a tattered cloak and, upon seeing the female adventurer, charged over like a madman, knocking Marvin down in one strike.
“What’s gotten into you? I’m helping them find rel—”
Marvin thought the newcomer had misunderstood something and got up while clutching his waist, wanting to drive him away.
But when he saw what was in the newcomer’s hand, he froze.
“Anti-life potion!”
The cloaked figure was naturally Dylan. He paid no attention to what Marvin had said, only looked with heartache at his daughter’s agonized state.
Using his good right hand, he carefully took out the potion and gently helped her drink it.
“Dad?”
“Don’t be afraid, Bella. Dad’s here. This is a potion that can save you—you’ll be fine.”
Bella seemed unable to believe that her father would appear at such a time, but she still obediently drank it down.
As the potion entered her body, Bella felt a sharp pain spread throughout her being.
“Ah!”
The suddenly intensified agony made Bella cry out, and then she simply fainted.
“What—what’s happening? Is there something wrong with the potion? What do we do?”
Dylan was completely panicked. If this only hope was fake… then he would definitely go back and kill that goateed man’s entire family!
Seeing this, Marvin, who understood what was happening, hastily explained:
“Don’t panic! This is a normal reaction to the anti-life potion. To transform the changed parts back naturally requires experiencing that pain all over again. It’s actually good that she’s unconscious—when she wakes up, everything will be fine.”
“Really? Really?”
Dylan grabbed Marvin’s hand with such force that he made the apprentice priest wince in pain.
“Really, really! Let go of me!”
Realizing his impropriety, Dylan quickly released his grip and awkwardly apologized.
“Never mind… I understand.”
With that, Marvin picked up the sword from the ground and walked toward another patient on the verge of transformation, continuing to complete his task—not everyone had such fortune to turn disaster into blessing.
Bella’s brow was tightly furrowed at this moment, as if she could feel pain even in unconsciousness.
Dylan gently caressed her face, tears glistening in his eyes.
He had finally saved his daughter.
The sounds of battle outside could barely be heard anymore. The attacking blood-suckers weren’t numerous compared to the soldiers—they had simply taken advantage of a surprise attack.
The administrator here seemed to have some ability. Before Dylan entered, he had seen the man organizing soldiers outside the church, forming them into squads and beginning a counterattack.
Dylan himself had only been allowed in after smearing fresh blood on his face to hide the mycelium.
Order would soon be restored here…
“Lucky girl. You two must have a deep bond—to rush into the village under these circumstances.”
After killing all the agitated patients, Marvin made small talk. He needed to chat with someone now to relieve his psychological pressure.
Upon hearing this, Dylan seemed to remember something and stood up with slight panic, running outside.
“Hey, hey?”
This left Marvin completely confused. If you don’t want to chat, you don’t need to run away, right?
Dylan rushed out of the church and surveyed the surroundings. After confirming that there were no more traces of blood-suckers and that the church would face no more danger, he slipped out of the village while the soldiers hadn’t fully restored order.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to watch his daughter wake up—he was simply afraid.
Flexing his left hand, which had regained sensation, the mycelium that had fused with flesh and blood at the wound reminded him of his already altered state.
He wasn’t afraid that his daughter wouldn’t accept him—quite the opposite.
Just as that apprentice priest had said, their father-daughter bond ran deep.
So deep that even if Bella knew her father had become like this, she would unhesitatingly stand by his side.
And this was precisely what he feared.
His abnormality being discovered was only a matter of time. When that happened, facing judgment, whether he lived or died remained unknown.
But Bella had exceptional talent and would have a bright future. Dylan could not accept her ruining that future for his sake.
He had to stay away from Bella.
But where could he go now?
Dylan even felt that perhaps he should find a place to end his own life—that would be most appropriate.
But humans ultimately yearn for life. He could disregard his life for his daughter’s sake, but now that she was safe, he couldn’t quite bear to give up his own life either.
If possible, he still wanted to hide somewhere, occasionally inquiring about Bella’s situation, knowing whether she was doing well or not.
After much consideration, Dylan decided to go to a certain place first. In the depths of his heart, he felt he might find a way to survive there.
So, bishop dylan soon?