When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

As he read on, his hands gradually, uncontrollably began to tremble: "To my fellow human beings of Windmill Land, when you see this letter, regardless of whether what I’m going to do works or not, I will already be dead!"

After being searched by the guards, a stone-faced Lymington stepped into the banquet hall, nodding politely to the vampires present.

"This is my final article, and a call to all people of Windmill Land."

"I want all Windmill Land people to see what kind of massacre happened in Gewu City..."

"...that despicable, dreadful, hateful, and pitiful governor Arcadera actually ordered the massacre of the city..."

"...I won’t say what happened, I will only speak of what I saw, which is enough to make one’s heart tremble..."

"Blood, only blood..."

"...This is what I saw, this is what I heard, all laid bare before you."

"I know the Royal Court will never allow the news of the Gewu City massacre to spread far and wide."

"But I’m even more afraid that you will remain indifferent after seeing it."

"Have the people of Windmill Land lost their courage?"

In the center of the crimson hall, amidst countless applause, Serafe in a red gown descended from high above to the ground.

"I’ve always wondered why the people of Windmill Land are so cowardly?"

"Everyone hides, everyone evades, always avoiding harm, even ignoring the injustice and brutality happening right in front of them."

"I vowed to change all this, to see the people of Windmill Land no longer opportunistic, no longer cowardly, no longer divided..."

"But I accomplished nothing."

In the splendorous hall, amidst sly laughter, Lymington trudged along numbly, clinking glasses with everyone he met.

"I said I wanted the people of Windmill Land to stop bleeding, not to become vassals of the Holy Alliance, but I didn’t manage to achieve it."

"Windmill Land did not become a vassal of the Holy Alliance, but instead became a vassal of the Royal Court."

Bone china plates, crystal glass vases, spider silk tablecloths, holding pieces of bloody raw meat.

"I said I wanted the people of Windmill Land to have freedom, to have identity, to own their own kingdom."

"But now, Windmill Land has still fallen into the territory of others."

Candles and crystal lamps cast overlapping blurred circles of light, making everything and everyone seem so dim.

It’s as if one can’t distinguish between humans and vampires anymore.

"I said, I said I would protect the people of Windmill Land’s peace, yet I have not achieved it."

"Vampires celebrate on our land, slaughtering Windmill Land people like lambs, putting them on the table."

Amidst the jeers, Lymington downed his blood wine in silence, eating nothing.

Yet in the eyes of those elite who feasted on raw blood and flesh, he seemed like a building professional still clinging to claims of purity.

Mockery, sarcasm, reproach surrounded Lymington, but he remained stone-faced, drifting aimlessly among the crowd like a puppet.

"I always thought of achieving victory without bloodshed, but how can victory be achieved without it?"

"I always compared Windmill Land to Thousand River Valley, but I was wrong, we are not the same."

Lymington saw countless nobles kneeling to a middle-aged female vampire, licking the boots of that priest queen.

They seemed completely unaware that, right outside the window, was the deserted Gewu City. They were guests.

Invited by vampires to partake in the blood feast of their fellow humans.

"Thousand River Valley People dare to face the gory blood, but Windmill Land people always like to skirt around it."

"When will we dare to face the blood? Probably only when the blood spills over, forcing us to face it?"

"The blood of refugees dying outside the city isn’t enough, the blood from citizens when sea monsters attack isn’t enough, even the blood of 20,000 citizens in Gewu City is not enough..."

Leaning against a pillar, Lymington felt like laughing a bit.

Because his compatriots were drinking the blood of his compatriots to curry favor with outsiders and enemies.

"When will the people of Windmill Land awaken? When will someone like Juanuo, Horn emerge?"

"I think there must be a first, then a second, a third..."

"Who will be the first? Why don’t I?"

Lymington lifted his head, hearing someone calling him.

He stepped towards the source of the voice, the voice of the priestess queen.

"I truly envy Juanuo."

"He achieved a lot in his life, and before he died, he had no regrets."

"All my life I’ve been talking, writing, yet I haven’t accomplished a single thing."

The clinking of golden goblets, golden light coursing, dazzling like a golden river laid at his feet.

At the end of the river, a woman in red and a man in black beckoned to him.

Holding a golden goblet, filled with purple-red wine.

He slowly walked forward, stepping over the golden pathway, past his fellow countrymen, and stood before the two vampires.

Arcadera’s face became clear, the Royal Court’s governor extended his right hand, as if to clink glasses with him.

What was the governor saying? Seemed like "Don’t sulk, have a drink."

Yes, don’t sulk anymore.

"At least, at the end of life, I can still accomplish one thing, I must accomplish one thing, the final thing."

"Vengeance."

Under the eyes of all, with a tight-lipped expression from start to finish, Lymington showed his rare smile at the peak of the feast.

He showed yellowed teeth, pink gums, between which he bit...

An electric-blue, crystalline Moon Mercury Crystal with a lightning glow.

In less than half a second, the governor’s expression shifted from composed to joyful, to panic, to fear.

"Oh no, I..."

Ha ha, so vampires can get scared too.

Lymington opened his arms, embracing the governor, placing his mouth by his neck as if to suck his blood.

"If the blood of Gewu City is not enough, not enough for Windmill Land to awaken, then add me too."

"Best regards."

As he embraced Arcadera, Lymington bit down on the Moon Mercury Crystal in his mouth.

"Bang—Zzzzz—"

The dancing electric serpent illuminated the eyes of all humans and vampires, the violent explosion ruffling the hems of garments and skirts.

When their vision returned from pure white, they saw a black shadow flicker with a clang.

A startled head descended from mid-air, connected to half a neck, landing right in Serafe’s dinner plate.

It was Arcadera, the culprit who ordered the massacre.

His head, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, stared at the blood-colored sky outside the window.

"Your Majesty, be careful!"

"Lord Arcadera—"

"Get out of the way!"

Serafe forcefully pushed aside the guards who tried to block her, staring intently at Lymington.

For the first time, Serafe lost her composure in public, her face gloomy as she gazed at the human corpse.

During the entire banquet, muddled and numb, the sorrowful clown from Dam City, Lord Lymington.

His body lay on the ground, resting on a clean carpet, blood flowing from the half of his head.

He had only half a head, the upper part with the upper jaw exploded into a bloody mess with Arcadera’s head.

But everyone could see, his lower lip curved upwards, and the crimson blood illuminated his pale lips.

Everyone could see that arc—

He was smiling.

And Matiss was already crying uncontrollably.

"Remember, convey my words to Matiss and the editors and readers of the newspaper, just say, I’m sorry."

"I’m sorry I let down your expectations and trust, I’m not your savior, nor the Juanuo of Windmill Land."

"I’m just a proud coward, overestimating my capabilities, yet I finally accomplished one thing."

"I am finally without regrets."