To a human, even a single day’s adjournment could feel frustrating. While caution and thoroughness were necessary in a trial, for an impatient human, even a day could seem too long.
But to vampires, a day was nothing more than a short break—enough time to step out, drink some blood, and return. The vampires left the hall at a leisurely pace, promising to reconvene soon. Only a few Elders remained behind.
"Progenitor, I will be stepping away for a while. Please grant me permission to leave first."
"It seems you have urgent business. Go, and return with your report."
"My deepest gratitude."
With Vladimir leading the way, the remaining Elders withdrew, their expressions unreadable. Before long, only Tyr, Lir, and I remained in the now-empty hall.
Tyr surveyed the vacant chamber once before her composed expression softened.
"You maneuvered through that obstacle quite elegantly."
"Obstacle? I wouldn’t even call it that. What’s the worst that could have happened? It’s not like I would suffer if things went wrong. Lir would just end up dead."
The moment you shift the risk onto someone else, it stops being a gamble and becomes mere entertainment. If there’s no stake, there’s no tension.
Despite my blunt response, Tyr let out a small chuckle, as if amused.
"Huhu. You speak as if you are indifferent, but I know the real reason you tried to save her. You, the King of Humans, have always had a fondness for those who seek to save others."
"Nope. Not really."
"Oh, come now. You were always difficult, but didn’t you go out of your way to help Shei many times? And now, after barely knowing Lir, you readily stepped in to assist her. Do you think I wouldn’t notice after observing you for so long?"
...Did I? It wasn’t about liking people who saved others—I simply wanted to see their aspirations unfold a little longer. If she were a murderer instead of a healer, as long as she wasn’t trying to kill me, I still would have watched. The problem was that most people tried to kill me first.
Tyr seemed to be misunderstanding something. Should I bother correcting her?
"...Or is there another reason? Perhaps you harbor impure intentions?"
"Nope. On second thought, you’re absolutely right."
Yeah, better not correct her.
Tyr let go of the topic and turned her gaze toward Lir.
Lir was still lying motionless in the hall, unmoved. No one had ordered her to be taken away or instructed her to leave, so she simply remained there, untouched.
"Lir Nightingale."
"Yes, Progenitor."
"From here on, the proceedings will serve as a trial of your worthiness. The court will judge whether you are qualified to inherit my True Blood—whether you possess the strength to claim it."
However, Tyr trailed off slightly before glancing at me.
"If I could gain a better understanding of your abilities in advance, it would make the judgment process significantly easier."
She was speaking indirectly, but her meaning was clear—she was offering to tip the scales in Lir’s favor if we reached an agreement beforehand. Since I had backed Lir, Tyr was now willing to lend her support as well.
The difference between benevolence and political maneuvering? There was none. It was the same thing, depending on perspective.
Of course, I wasn’t the only reason for her offer. Tyr, who had once pursued a similar path, likely felt a sense of kinship with Lir, the vampire who used bloodcraft to heal humans. If Tyr still possessed her former dominion over blood, this trial might not have even taken place—because all vampires under her rule would have instinctively shared her sentiments toward Lir.
Huh. Now that I think about it, the future the Regressor saw must have had a reason for the survival of the Divine Healer.
At this point, I could safely assume the Divine Healer had made it through. But Lir herself showed no particular reaction.
"...I have no talent worth presenting."
"No talent? From what I hear, no Elder can match your ability to restore human life."
"That’s not ‘saving’ them. I have no interest in their lives. I merely intervene in their deaths. It’s no different from killing them."
"Killing them?"
"Yes."
Tyr gestured for her to elaborate. Lir responded.
"I have no interest in their lives. Humans live and die however they please. No matter how they live or how they die, I have resolved not to concern myself with it. I only concern myself with their deaths."
"Preventing death is saving them, is it not?"
"Progenitor, do you know the easiest way to save a person’s life?"
"What is it?"
"Kill the murderer. Or swear to kill the murderer."
She’s young, but she gets to the heart of the matter. Her perspective might seem unusual, but in truth, it’s an undeniable reality.
That’s precisely why murder is condemned in every nation and society.
Killing the murderer—that unshakable promise is what creates order. And within that solid order, humans are able to live.
"But I do not care even if they are murderers."
Lir declared, devoid of emotion.
"Even if the person I saved becomes my father’s plaything, suffering endlessly, begging for death. Even if they become mere materials to fatten him, or entertainment to amuse him. I will still heal my mother."
Her father saw humans as subjects to be corrected. He made a living draining their blood, tearing their flesh, and carving their bones.
Elder Ruskinia didn’t stop at modifying his own Ain—he experimented on humans as well. Even his own concubine and daughter.
Lir, who carried his blood and had witnessed his work firsthand, had inherited extraordinary medical skills—though not by choice. And those remarkable skills had been used primarily for one thing: healing her mother.
Only a vampire devoid of warmth and mercy could endure such horrors.
In that ruthless pursuit, Ruskinia had broken the shackles and conducted his forbidden experiments. And in the end, he had been slain.
So that’s how it all happened...
But.
The true culprit was Vladimir.
Everyone was pinning the blame on Lir—even she herself believed it. But there was something missing in the gap between perception and reality.
"This person... is strange."
Perhaps...
Perhaps I could uncover what lies in that gap.
"How does that count as killing people? You’re just someone who’s too soft-hearted to accept death. Why dress it up with such grand reasoning? Are you going through a rebellious phase?"
Tyr seemed to share my sentiment, nodding in agreement. It would’ve been easier to simply say it was basic human compassion, but by piling on all these justifications, the whole thing ended up sounding strange.
But the Divine Healer was far colder than I had assumed.
"I did become a vampire around that time. I suppose some influence remains."
"See? Now that you’re admitting it outright, it sounds even more ridiculous!"
"It’s simply the truth. And I had every reason to question such things. The humans I saved always ended up back in the same miserable state before long."
Right. If an ordinary child growing up in the military state had entertained such thoughts, they’d have been scolded and told to wake up to reality. But Lir had been raised as an Elder’s daughter, and reality for her had always been soaked in blood.
"Wouldn’t Ruskinia have listened if you had spoken to him about it?"
"When I protested to my father, he ‘resolved my worries’ by turning me into a vampire."
"...I’m sorry. That’s even worse than I imagined."
The more she spoke, the worse it sounded.
So that’s the kind of twisted hell one must endure to become a Divine Healer.
"Perhaps the old me would have thought differently, but I no longer feel sympathy. That is why I need a principle to follow. If I do not attach a reason to my actions, I will eventually forget why I move at all."
Like how Tyr harbored an unwavering hatred for the Holy Crown Church, Lir had turned her convictions into a guiding principle. That way, no matter who she faced, she could treat them with the same detached neutrality.
That must be why she survived in the future the Regressor had seen—because she continued saving people with that same unyielding resolve.
Which only made me more suspicious.
I probed her memories again and asked,
"Are you absolutely sure that you killed Ruskinia?"
"Yes."
Surprisingly, she meant it.
Then, it must be true.
She had broken free from the shackles of blood after years of effort under Ruskinia’s guidance, and she had attempted to do the same for him.
Yet Ruskinia was killed by Vladimir.
There was only one reason for the discrepancy in perception.
Lir failed to kill him.
"You had the ability to kill Ruskinia?"
"Yes. Without a doubt."
...It wasn’t impossible.
She had warped and twisted the blood shackles, ultimately being expelled from them. If Ruskinia had resisted, she never could have done it—but if he allowed it, then it was feasible. Even the strongest man can die if he chooses not to fight back.
But.
"One last question."
If she had the ability and yet failed, there was only one explanation.
"Did you truly hate your father? Someone like you?"
Even Lir couldn’t answer that easily.
No matter how coldly one analyzed oneself, there are aspects of the self that even the self cannot fully comprehend.
Vampires prioritize reason over emotion. They do not waver. Their undying and unyielding nature renders them closer to phenomena than living beings.
Lir and Tyr were the same. Having broken free from their shackles and no longer bound by a master’s command, they needed a distinct reason to act.
And yet, they were still human.
"Humans are more consistent than we think. It’s hard to be kind to all humans but harbor hatred solely for one’s father. It’s just as strange to vow to save every dying person while wishing death upon only one."
I can read human thoughts.
It sounds impressive, but my ability is limited to humans.
I cannot experience what they saw, smelled, tasted, or touched firsthand. Those details don’t remain in their memories. What I read is already filtered—only fragments of what they remember remain accessible.
Because human thoughts are imperfect, my ability to read them is also imperfect.
If I were truly perfect, I would already know what Ruskinia thought, how he moved, and how he died.
But what I did know was the heart of the person in front of me.
"Did you truly want to kill Ruskinia?"
Where did her stubborn, twisted kindness come from?
"...I don’t know."
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freёwebnovel.com.
Lir stared at her own heart with the same cold clarity ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) that all vampires possessed.
"Even if I longed for affection, he made me a vampire. I can no longer feel anything for him."
She carelessly gathered up her belongings—a bag filled with sharp scalpels, forceps, and scissors. Tools meant for stitching humans back together.
When wielded by Ruskinia, those instruments had created suffering.
When wielded by Lir, they alleviated it.
"Even if I had tried to save him, he wanted to die. I had no choice but to kill him."
Pain is something only the living can feel.
Ruskinia, despite everything, had been adept at preserving human life. The Divine Healer’s profound understanding of human anatomy and function had all come from him.
What is a parent to a child?
They can be despised. They can be resented.
But, whether wanted or not, they shape a significant portion of one’s life.
"Even if I had loved him, he commanded me to hate him. So I hate him."
And Ruskinia—the father, the master—had been everything to Lir.
She had walked unwanted paths because of him.
The life of a vampire. The life of an Elder-slayer. And now, the life of an Elder.
"He never gave me anything I wanted. So, of course, I had to hate him."
Lir finished packing her things and bowed slightly toward Tyr.
"Thank you for your assistance, Progenitor’s Consort."
"Oh, don’t mention it. Let’s just say I saved a life."
"No. I’m grateful that you laid bare the truth about my father. Now, everyone knows that he was a man who deserved to die. That’s enough for me."
Back then, it might have been different.
But now, her hatred was real.
She truly meant those words as she took her leave, leaving only Tyr and me behind.
"...So, in the end, we still haven’t seen what her ability actually is."
"True. Healing humans isn’t exactly useful to vampires."
"Should we bring someone in and wound them to see for ourselves?"
"In front of the vampires? What is this, a slaughterhouse?"
"She would be restoring them, so technically, it’s closer to veterinary care."
"Calling it ‘veterinary care’ makes it sound even less impressive, doesn’t it?"
Would the Divine Healer be able to prove herself among the Elders, a gathering of monsters with bloodstained hands and terrifying names?
It wouldn’t be easy.
Sensing my concern, Tyr reassured me.
"What does she have to fear? My consort is human. Keeping a capable doctor close by would only be beneficial."
...Lir ought to be grateful to me.
Without me, she wouldn’t have survived this so easily.