Divine envoys are mortals who have been granted a portion of a god's remaining power.
They walk the mortal world like representatives of the gods.
With unmatched power, they show the world the deity they believe in and spread its sacred teachings far and wide.
And the Bishop Michaela standing before him represented the generous Goddess of Abundance.
As for why Viktor knew this so clearly?
There was one divine envoy in his own ho.
Hearing Viktor reveal her crucial identity, Michaela did not show the slightest surprise.
Instead, a calm and gentle atmosphere still surrounded her, as if covered by an invisible halo, "It seems you know more than I expected."
She leaned slightly forward, giving Viktor an elegant bow, and a deeper respect flickered in her eyes.
Her voice was soft yet firm, "I'm certain I chose the right person."
Michaela's composed reaction seed to have already been within Viktor's expectations.
He leaned back leisurely against the seat, using those abyss-like eyes to quietly examine her.
The corners of Michaela's lips lifted slightly into a subtle smile.
"Priscilla has no connection whatsoever with the deceased Laurien."
Her lips parted lightly, "That statent was ant to weaken the nobles' fixed views on the matter."
Although this kind of almost blatant sophistry would be seen through even by the least perceptive person.
Priscilla was, after all, Count Laurien's daughter.
Yet the indescribable aura emanating from Michaela always made those nobles willing to believe her.
Even though they were not easily deceived, they could not help but be misled by such refined rhetoric.
Moreover, Michaela did not give them much ti to think, quickly putting forward the solution she had already carefully planned.
Choose soone to replace Count Laurien, raise Priscilla, and take over the territory of Shulben.
The sophistry held.
"Churches always understand how to sway people better than ordinary folk."
Viktor narrowed his eyes. It sounded like praise, but there was no emotion in his gaze.
This bishop of the Church of Abundance clearly knew how to use arguntation and her unique presence to manipulate people.
Michaela bowed to him again, the smile on her face growing brighter, "You flatter ."
When everyone's attention was no longer focused on the relationship between Count Laurien and Priscilla, but instead shifted to the issue of "whoever gains custody of Priscilla becos the lord of Shulben," Michaela had already won.
The next step was simply to legitimize what followed.
Using the golden wheat ear to choose the new lord as a manifestation of "divine will."
And selecting soone no one could reject, soone everyone would accept.
That person could only be Viktor.
Viktor not only legitimately obtained a piece of the kingdom's territory... Shulben...
but no one would pay much attention to Priscilla, even though she had indirectly preserved her father's land.
The Church of Abundance would also continue to exist in Shulben, and its status there would not decline in the slightest.
One move, three gains.
And of course, this could not have been done without the Grand Duke's support.
After all, Laurien had once been his most outstanding subordinate.
Grand Duke Barlow did not wish to see this subordinate, who had sacrificed everything for his daughter, suffer humiliation after death.
He did not want the beloved daughter left behind to face cold stares and hidden attacks from the nobles.
Therefore, the territory of Shulben, along with Viktor's protection, were valuable assets the Grand Duke left to Priscilla.
The Grand Duke could have directly handed control of the territory to Priscilla.
But doing so would only make the many uninford lords feel uneasy.
After all, Priscilla was still the child of a "criminal."
"The older one gets, the sharper they beco. That's not just talk."
The Grand Duke also achieved a threefold win.
He returned ownership of the territory to Priscilla.
He made the noble lords accept it without resistance.
And he ensured the stability of the Kant Kingdom, preventing chaos caused by the king.
Everything seed to be proceeding smoothly.
Viktor looked at Michaela calmly and asked, "So, what else do you want from ?"
After all, Viktor had done nothing and had obtained a highly valuable territory for free.
It seed he had even gained a daughter.
An absolute profit.
Of course, Michaela definitely had other intentions.
The bishop smiled at Viktor, her gentle voice flowing from her lips, "Count Laurien was an exceptionally capable lord. You and I both know that."
"That is why we entrusted him with the church's treasure."
"And now, it seems it has fallen into your hands."
Viktor knew that Michaela was referring to the golden wheat ear he had planted throughout the domain of the dead.
Before Viktor could respond, Michaela spoke again, "But rest assured, I am not here to take it back."
When she ntioned the wheat ear, her expression beca extrely devout.
Her hands crossed over her chest, her slender fingers slightly curled, as if praying to so sacred power, "That night, the power of the Goddess of Abundance descended upon Shulben."
"I know that aside from you, no one else could have accomplished such a thing."
As Michaela spoke, her eyes behind the veil seed to carry a hint of pleading, mixed with a trace of reverence, "Lord Viktor, you are soone acknowledged by the goddess."
"I hope you can take the golden wheat ear and visit the Church of Abundance."
"When you arrive there, you will understand everything."
Hearing Michaela's request, Viktor closed his eyes again.
Only his voice echoed faintly in the carriage, "Then let's make a deal."
"After it's done, I want you to agree to one condition."
———
The wheels on both sides of the magic carriage were driven by mana, the axles clattering against the stone road as it sped along the road toward Shulben.
The carriage arrived at the church, its wheels rolling across the wide plaza.
White doves scattered across the square, and the fountain in the center reflected sunlight with a bright shimr.
The church, built from pure white marble, stood clearly in an open space within the territory.
Two rows of three rose windows were set into the white structure, and golden wheat patterns were carved onto the two grand doors.
Solemn and sacred.
The magic carriage slowly ca to a stop in front of the church, and its door opened automatically.
Viktor and Michaela stepped out at the sa ti, standing before the church.
As if sensing their arrival, the church doors, which had witnessed countless baptisms, slowly opened to both sides.
A path covered in a red carpet extended inward, leading deep into the church.
Sunlight poured down, casting a vivid red glow.
Nuns stood in rows on both sides of the church. Upon seeing Viktor's arrival, they all bowed together, their respect solemn.
Looking straight down the carpet into the depths of the church, a familiar figure entered Viktor's sight.
It was Priscilla.
At that mont, she was fully focused, kneeling before the statue of the Goddess of Abundance, her pale face with eyes closed, hands clasped together.
Offering her most devout prayer in silence.
Brilliant golden light stread through the rose windows, like countless fragnts of multicolored patterns.
Priscilla was draped in this mysterious glow, like a deity being praised.
At this mont, the entire church was imrsed in silence, with only Priscilla's focus stirring the air.
Michaela looked at Viktor with a smile.
She extended her slender hand, gesturing for Viktor to enter the church.
Viktor kept his hands in his pockets, silent.
He walked forward along the carpet, his steady steps making no sound.
Only the soft carpet responded faintly.
Viktor walked up to Priscilla, standing together with the statue of the Goddess of Abundance.
He gazed at the statue's face, filled with kindness and gentleness, let out a light breath, and extended one arm.
As if spiritual power wrapped around his arm, a ghostly green fla ignited instantly.
Under the erosion of the fla, pale bones appeared within it.
In the eyes of others, his hand seed to reach into a silent, lifeless space, swallowing his original arm.
When Viktor withdrew his hand, the golden wheat ear appeared in his grasp.
He placed it steadily on the golden platform before the statue.
Almost at the sa ti, Vega's single eye flickered with a faint blue light.
The next mont, the wheat ear began to shine with golden light.
As the golden light danced, the goddess's statue seed to be given life.
Her eyes shone with the sa golden radiance, filling the surroundings with sacred light.
Within the church, a clear chanting sound rose.
A phantom of the goddess, wearing a floral crown, erged once more from the statue before everyone.
Holding the wheat ear, she gazed down at all beings with gentle compassion.
Witnessing this sacred scene, the nuns all held their breath, knelt down, and clasped their hands together.
They bowed their heads slightly, offering the highest reverence to the goddess's phantom.
Bishop Michaela stood at the entrance, looking at the sacred scene before her.
Even her eyes beneath the black veil seed to burn with intensity.
Her hands overlapped on her chest as her devout voice echoed slowly, "Lord Viktor, you truly are soone favored by the goddess."
Amid layers of reverence, the goddess's phantom slowly rose.
Like a mother's blessing, her loving hand brushed over Priscilla's head.
Feeling the warm touch above her, Priscilla suddenly awoke.
The mont she raised her head, her gaze t the goddess's.
As if feeling the goddess's warmth and kindness, her eyes beca moist.
Her trembling voice spoke with emotion, "Has the goddess… responded to ?"
"The goddess will not respond to you."
Viktor's indifferent voice suddenly sounded, causing Priscilla to freeze again.
She stiffly raised her head, only to see Viktor standing beside her.
When did the mage arrive?
Priscilla did not know, but at this mont, Viktor had already picked up the wheat ear again.
The mont the wheat ear was taken back, the sacred golden light and the chanting gradually faded.
And the goddess's phantom suspended in the air seed to have completed her final task.
With a gaze full of compassion, she returned to the statue.
"Unless I want her to respond."
Priscilla looked up, her crimson eyes filled with confusion.
"Mister… Mage?"
Viktor did not answer. He simply bent down and extended a hand toward Priscilla.
Instinctively, Priscilla reached out and grabbed Viktor's hand.
A warm sensation spread from Viktor's palm into hers.
Then, a force pulled her directly up from the ground.
Priscilla couldn't react in ti, nor could she stop her body.
Carried by inertia, she fell straight into Viktor's arms.
Feeling the warmth, Priscilla froze for a mont.
She quickly pulled away from Viktor's embrace, lowering her head, shy and embarrassed.
"S-sorry."
But even after letting go of Viktor's hand, the warmth in her palm remained.
Curious, Priscilla lowered her head and secretly opened her hand.
The golden wheat ear lay quietly in her palm.
Still radiating warmth.
This was… Mr. Viktor's…
At that mont, she couldn't help but feel flustered.
She wanted to lift her head and return this sacred object to him.
But Viktor's voice had already sounded above her head, "Praying will never accomplish anything, Priscilla."
"From now on, even without , you must learn to stand on your own like today."
In the end, after hearing Viktor's words, Priscilla still did not raise her head.
She lowered it dimly, her voice filled with helplessness and despair, "I'm sorry, Mister Mage…"
"I can't stand up anymore."
Burdened by the pain of her parents dying for her, and the suffering of being rejected by humans as a vampire.
All of this made Priscilla exactly as she said.
She could never stand up again.
She didn't want to be a vampire who hurt others. She only wanted a happy family.
But she had no choice in any of it, so Priscilla could only pray.
She would keep kneeling here, to atone for sins her father had never committed.
Even so, those people would never forgive her.
Because she was Laurien's descendant, a vampire who could hurt others.
So she would remain kneeling here.
Only a kneeling vampire would not harm others.
That was what everyone wished for.
Suddenly, a warm hand gently rested on her head.
Only Viktor's voice echoed again and again in her ears.
"From now on, you will never need to kneel again."
"From today onward, Clavenna will be your new surna."
Priscilla froze and opened her eyes.
The hand on her head was clearly light, yet it felt unbearably heavy, making her afraid to lift her head.
She didn't want to look up and find that everything before her was nothing but an illusion.
But when the next sentence sounded, she could no longer hold back the emotions on the verge of collapse.
"This is what I promised your father I would do."
The tears in her eyes could no longer be restrained, quietly sliding down her cheeks.
That was the final protection her father left behind for her after his death.
Golden sunlight fell from above the skylight.
The light shone on the falling tears, reflecting a soft glow.
It draped over the statue like a sacred garnt.
Only the quiet church echoed with the devout prayers of the nuns.
And Priscilla's final words, spoken to no one in particular.
"Fa…ther."
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