In the Lichtenstein Castle's foundation-level chapel, Lanqi delivered a vivid and illustrative handicraft lesson on "Mummy Making: A Process Even a Three-Year-Old Can Understand."

After having the cleric carefully seal away the extracted Earl's blood,

Lanqi began to instruct everyone on their work assignments.

First, the three members of the merchant guild were responsible for crafting the mummy's coffin, which could be done in the iron foundry on the fourth floor of the castle.

The clergy were responsible for the Earl's optimization.

Lanqi and the others would prepare the arrangements for tomorrow's activities and meals.

Tonight, everyone would need to work overtime, and after finishing the work, they could happily enjoy this wonderful holiday together.

Although everyone felt a little tired after this very fulfilling day, the thought of having four more days to enjoy made them feel full of energy.

"Blood... give me back my blood..."

Earl Palokas's voice was hoarse and weak, like a skin-and-bones man suffering from withdrawal.

"So, you see, staying up late is really harmful, causing him such pain. Earl Palokas likes to stay up late. To correct his bad habit, we have to keep him company tonight. As the saying goes, 'Harming others also harms oneself.'"

Lanqi looked at the trembling, dried-up corpse of Earl Palokas on the ground and couldn't help but sigh.

Hyperion hesitated, wanting to say something.

She felt that Earl Palokas's pain wasn't entirely caused by staying up late.

"Mr. Lanqi, since the blood race has immortality, they won't die even if they stay up all night indefinitely. So, in the future, when we encounter blood races who refuse to adjust their schedules, can we first let them try staying up for ten days or half a month without sleep, to help them realize the importance of a good routine?"

The young master of the merchant guild immediately began to extrapolate, asking Lanqi from the side.

"Very correct."

Lanqi nodded with satisfaction.

As the saying goes, "Virtue has no constant teacher; goodness is the teacher." The young master of the merchant guild had probably grasped the true meaning of convincing people with virtue.

"..."

Hyperion looked at the two of them, one daring to teach and the other daring to learn.

She felt that there was one less normal person again.

Originally, the young master of the merchant guild had been slacking off all afternoon, not saying a few words. Hyperion thought he was the least influenced by Lanqi, but when he opened his mouth, he was severely infected.

...

The world outside the window was still shrouded in deep darkness. The castle's courtyard and the distant mountains and forests were hidden in the night, with only the moonlight illuminating their outlines.

Lichtenstein Castle, second floor, Room 202, where the Resurgence Cultists were imprisoned.

It was exceptionally silent.

The air was filled with a heavy, rusty, and bloody smell. The magnificent decorations, floors, and walls were all covered in splattered blood, red, brown, and black, each color representing pain from different times.

In the center of the room, a petite girl was unconscious in a chair, with iron locks, chains, and shackles tightly binding her body, preventing her from escaping.

Her clothes looked like they had been torn by beasts. Her shoulders were tattered, and the original white cleric's robe had been almost dyed into patches of dark red.

The source of those bloodstains was none other than the numerous wounds on her body, each one deeply embedded in her skin, recording unforgettable memories, like being eroded by wind and snow in the harsh winter, extremely pale. The wound on her thigh had not healed, like a morbid red line that could bleed at any time.

In the middle of the night, a patch of dark clouds seemed to have drifted across the sky, allowing faint moonlight to shine into the bedroom, illuminating the girl's face.

The captured Resurgence Church goddess cleric's eyes were tightly closed, as if she was enduring indescribable pain and torture even in her dreams.

Suddenly, a faint noise came from downstairs, the soft clinking of chains, the creaking of the wooden staircase handrail, and the vague sound of conversation.

These tiny sounds were like a key, slowly opening the door to her consciousness.

"..."

Her eyelids began to twitch slightly, slowly lifting the fog of unconsciousness, and her consciousness slowly emerged from the darkness, gradually becoming clear.

She remembered that she seemed to have come to a shadow world called "The Saint's Hall of Villainy Banquet." She was a blood race dependent carrying the mission of betraying and killing the challengers, to inflict the most cruel psychological and mental torture on other challengers…

Then…

And then…

She didn't want to think about it anymore.

As if awakened from a nightmare, she suddenly opened her heavy eyelids. The faint moonlight shining into her pupils made her feel particularly dazzling.

"..."

When her consciousness fully recovered, every detail in the room seemed so clear. She could feel the cold chains on her body and the freedom that had been taken away, the faint sound of the wind in her ears, and the piercing pain all over her body.

Those once bright blue eyes were now dull and lifeless, with only deep fatigue.

The Ygdrassil Academy was a group of unimaginable beasts, capable of anything.

The goddess cleric wanted to speak, but her lungs felt as if they had been cut by a sharp sword. The heavy and intermittent breathing was like wind blowing through gravel, making a rustling sound. The traces of pain had already floated out of her body, turning into the bloody smell scattered in the air.

"Damn... things..."

Although the sound coming from her blocked mouth was weak and garbled, it was filled with endless resentment, permeating the dim room.

The girl's face was like a stone statue in the pale moonlight, stiff and lifeless.

Suddenly, footsteps that were getting closer and clearer from outside the door broke the silence of the room, like wind chimes coming from afar.

It was the unhurried pace of the victor, as if preparing to enjoy the last prey, extremely leisurely.

Without a doubt, the blood race Earl had finally arrived.

Listening to the sound outside the door, the goddess cleric actually raised the corners of her mouth and looked up, laughing like a blooming flower of madness, her laughter shrill and hollow.

She understood that her death was approaching, but these pains and humiliations would also come to an end.

Even though she was still extremely afraid of those three clerics in her heart, she now knew that they, who had tortured her for so long, were dead.

Including that Lanqi Wilford, who deserved to die the most.

She only felt relieved!

She slowly raised her drooping head, aligning her gaze with the door, the door that the blood race Earl was about to step through.

For some reason, she couldn't feel how terrifying the blood race Earl was at all now.

Click.

In the last moment when the sound of metal turning sounded in the lock, she felt no fear, but a sense of relief. Accompanied by laughter, her eyes began to moisten, bitter and relieved tears.

However, the next second.

Lanqi, holding a record of interrogation in his hand, looked at her with confusion as he opened the door.

"Girl, is there anything happy you can share with me?"

(End of chapter)