Witch Monastery

Liberl Port, Mithral District—the nobles’ castle district, within a grand and magnificent castle.

This was the domain of the Cavendish family, a longstanding hereditary noble house of the Empire of Sein. Although their fiefdom within the empire’s heartland had shrunk to a mere county, the family had managed to hang onto their marquis title, and so they still held considerable status and influence.

The current head of the house, Ander Cavendish, was the former Minister of Health in Liberl Port. Under his leadership, medical advancements—especially in organ transplantation—made remarkable progress.

Now, this elderly man who had contributed so much to the city’s development was lying unconscious in his massive bed, cared for by a strong, middle-aged caretaker.

Outside the room, his sons and daughters—lavishly dressed, and now prominent nobles throughout Liberl Port—whispered in anxious tones:

"Any updates on the kidney Father was supposed to get?"

"Something came up. That kid unexpectedly got a big loan from Blue Dragon Bank, so now he’s not willing to sell his kidney anymore."

"Damn it, can’t you handle it like before? Take... necessary measures?"

"It’s not so easy anymore. The Xanathar’s Guild is gone, and we haven’t found a truly reliable new partner just yet..."

"Then hurry up and find one! If you don’t want our house reduced to a county, this has to get done!"

"Uh... Yes, yes!"

Their voices were low, but barely concealed their mounting desperation.

But none of them noticed that, inside the old man’s bedroom, a bat had quietly slipped in through the open window, coming to rest on the sill.

At the bedside, the caretaker suddenly felt a crushing wave of exhaustion; her body slumped, and she collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

On the bed, the once-powerful, now gaunt and withered lord suddenly heard a young man’s voice: "If I grant you eternal health and life, old man, what will you offer me in return?"

The old man’s eyes snapped open, suddenly sharp and penetrating.

"Everything I have..." he gasped through his raspy throat, "Everything I... possess... can be yours."

At that moment, his yearning for life pushed aside every other concern.

"Very well," the voice replied. "Then, get out of bed and drain that woman’s blood for me..."

The old man’s breath grew heavy. His canine teeth lengthened, his eyes turned blood-red.

He rolled out of bed, slipped on his shoes, and with unnatural strength for his frail frame, seized the unconscious maid—opened his mouth, and drove his fangs deep into her throat—

...

The ship docked slowly at South Harbor District. Charles and his party disembarked, one after another. After confirming with Anno how they’d report in at Blackstaff Tower, how to form a special task group, increase vigilance, and handle possible Vampire threats, he double-checked all their documents, kissed her goodbye with genuine reluctance, and saw her off to the Blackstaff Tower carriage.

Without further delay, he led the battle nuns back to the monastery, where he sorted the loot from the latest adventure: rusty chainmail, shields, and great cleavers were handed off to Ekta for melting down at the blacksmith’s—waste not, want not.

The valuable grave goods—like the jewelry from the Death Knight’s and Lich’s sarcophagi—went to Sephera, who’d find a reliable fence and turn those treasures into coin.

As for the magical gear peeled off the two bosses, Charles kept that himself for now—saving it until he could get it refitted, or pass it on to a suitable wearer later.

By the time all this was done, evening had quietly arrived. After a long, busy day, Charles didn’t go straight to bed. Instead, he slipped over to Malena’s house and gently knocked on her door.

He’d been away for more than a week, and found himself really missing his daughter.

Soft, hurried footsteps approached—the door swung open, revealing Lisa in pajamas and pink house slippers. She spotted him, her eyes lit up, and she cried out, "Priest!"

Her golden hair was still damp, scented faintly of soap, and her cheeks glistened with droplets she hadn’t quite finished toweling off. She’d just bathed, clearly getting ready for bed.

It was a little early for sleep, but with how easygoing the little girl’s schedule was, turning in early seemed for the best.

No matter whether Sophia or Andny was tutoring her, their educational philosophy was patterned after Charles’s: make sure she understands everything in class, but never assign her after-class homework.

Even though Light magic could light up the whole house as bright as day, reading and writing in the evening was bad for the eyes.

So Charles insisted—no evening assignments, plenty of free time, and an early bedtime for his little girl.

"Priest, hug!"

Seeing him, Lisa’s eyes sparkled, her face lighting up with delight. She spread her arms and asked for a hug.

Charles bent down and scooped her up—immediately noticing how heavy she’d gotten.

With her bloodline awakened and proper nutrition, Lisa, just ten this year, seemed to have hit an early growth spurt. Not only was she taller, but her weight had shot up, and Charles nearly wondered if she’d grown too much for him to lift.

Granted, that might also be because he’d spent more time working on practical combat skills lately, rather than strictly boosting his attributes.

Still, no matter how she grew, at least for now he could lift her with ease.

He let her perch on his arm, her little hands around his neck. He closed the door behind them and carried her into Malena’s bedroom.

There, Malena sat at the bedside holding baby Guinevere, breastfeeding. The littlest girl, eyes shut, was nursing contentedly, not fussy at all.

Charles leaned in, wanting to squeeze Guinevere’s little nose in play, but stopped himself halfway, not wanting to interrupt feeding.

Lisa, spotting his extended hand, leaned back and stuck her own nose against his fingertip.

Charles chuckled, giving her nose a gentle pinch. The little girl beamed back, obviously pleased.

He held her close, gently patting her back, hoping to lull her toward sleep. Lisa draped herself over his shoulder, wiggled into a comfy spot, shut her eyes, and breathed in the familiar scent of his hair.

Meanwhile, Charles asked Malena in a hush, "How have things been these last few days? All smooth?"

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