"No offense, Miss."
The vampire's gaze lingered on her for a moment. Elven bloodlines weren't always obvious, but they often manifested in beauty and pointed ears—both of which Myma possessed. "Is that why you and your family moved to the Dusk Continent?"
"No, just me," Myma shook her head. "They've long since been laid to rest in the graveyard."
Kevin immediately apologized. Truthfully, he was merely curious. The Dusk Continent was no stranger to mixed-blood individuals, and this red-haired, blue-eyed girl was likely just one among many—perhaps slightly different, but nothing extraordinary.
"By vampire standards, I've only just reached adulthood, though the rite of passage no longer holds meaning," Kevin spoke of himself. "My family perished in the Battle of the Scarlet Plains, burned to ashes by sacred flames—summoned by a light elf, who happened to be a Half-Deity."
That battle had been the bloodiest conflict after The Deity of Darkness descended upon the continent, clashing with the armies of The Deity of Light, Helios. Countless Deities had fallen, not to mention the devastation wrought upon other races. The once-fertile plains were drenched in blood, earning their new name: the Scarlet Plains.
Sophia covered her mouth. "I thought vampires were immortal."
"We are," Kevin glanced at her. "But we can still be killed. Under normal circumstances, our lifespans are indeed long."
Sophia looked apologetic. "I'm sorry."
"It's nothing. Dying in battle is an honor," Kevin said softly. "I miss my family, but I'm prouder of them. They gave everything for our Master. Who wouldn't want to repay their Master like that? Even if a Half-Deity stood before me—no, even if Helios himself appeared—I wouldn't back down."
The creations of The Deity of Darkness all referred to Him as Master. Though few had ever stood in His presence, it did nothing to diminish their reverence. As for Helios, the Nightkin races saw no need for honorifics. Compared to the Church's relentless slander of the Dusk Continent, simply uttering the name without added slurs was already generous.
"I overheard your conversation earlier. You can speak those names freely here. There aren't as many taboos," Kevin snorted. "If I recall correctly, humans in the Dawn Continent aren't allowed to casually mention Helios' lackeys, are they?"
"You mean the followers of The Deity of Light?" Myma blinked. "Oh, yes. But not all nations under the Dawn Continent's banner have bowed to the Church."
Kevin smirked. "Yet none of those nations are strong. In truth, the Church abandoned them."
Sophia interjected curiously, "I've heard the Church shares taxes with royalty and nobility—though I'm not entirely sure why people in the Dawn Continent pay taxes, or what those taxes even are."
"You could think of it this way," Myma explained. "Many live near forests or mountains infested with magical beasts. If they're harassed or injured, their local lords are obligated to dispatch soldiers—assuming they've paid their taxes. If the beasts prove too formidable, the Church sends knights. In cities, it's more about maintaining order."
"And that's precisely the problem," Kevin added. "Take the Northern Wastes, for example. The climate is harsh, and the beasts are relentless. Winter hordes sometimes wipe out entire cities. The lords beg for tax relief every year, while citizens freeze or starve. The crown's coffers can't even cover military expenses…"
"Ah," Sophia nodded in understanding. "So if the Church takes a cut of those taxes, they'd have to send armies to cull the beasts, ultimately losing more than they gain?"
"More or less. The Church's benefits aren't limited to taxes, and their expenditures aren't just armies. In the end, they always abandon some places."
"Battling beasts is the duty of the paladins. Priests and clerics are responsible for blessings and healing strange ailments. The Northern Wastes' plight stems from commanders unwilling to sacrifice their men meaninglessly," Myma recalled discussions overheard during temple services. "Have you been to the Dawn Continent, Mr. Kevin?"
"No, Miss," the vampire admitted regretfully. "But many among my kind have. I've always been curious. Perhaps after I marry, I'll request leave from the fortress commander and visit with my spouse."
Myma noticed his gaze flicker toward Sophia when he mentioned marriage.
Sophia, coincidentally, was also looking at him. Their eyes met briefly before they both glanced away, suppressing smiles.
"May I ask you something?" Sophia cleared her throat. "Have you ever seen The Deity of Curses, Galdrius?"
Galdrius, The Deity of Curses, served under The Deity of Darkness. Rumors claimed their bond transcended that of master and follower. He ruled the southern Curse's City and bore many epithets from the Church: the Deceiver of Lies, the Filthy Dark Servant, the Evil Deity of Sorcery. These titles weren't solely born of the Church's hatred—though that played a part.
Many who had cursed Galdrius' name suffered gruesome fates: Half-Deities writhing in agony, archangels burning in black flames, clerics choking on swollen tongues. Yet they couldn't stop vilifying him, resorting to creative insults instead.
In this regard, Galdrius' infamy surpassed even The Deity of Darkness. Nyx, after all, rarely involved Herself in mortal affairs, remaining deep within the Dusk Continent, whether in slumber or other pursuits.
As for why the Church never dared blaspheme The Deity of Darkness directly? Simple: those lacking sufficient power couldn't even utter His true name—in any language.
"Actually," Kevin looked surprised. "I've glimpsed The Deity of Curses from afar. Are you hoping to become his follower, Miss Cana?"
"No!" Sophia gasped. "I'd never presume to be worthy… I was just wondering, what does he look like? They say his body is shrouded in black mist, his true form hidden beneath armor."
"That part's true," Kevin chuckled. "But no mortal can withstand the pressure of a Deity's true form. What we see is merely what they allow us to perceive."
Well, that's to be expected. They're Deities, after all. Myma thought wryly.
The vampire paused. "Miss, did you take the southern sea route to the Dusk Continent?"
"Yes," Myma nodded. "Before my father passed, he arranged for me to join a merchant caravan from the Boden Empire to the Taven Empire. From there, I boarded a ship last winter. The town mayor kindly helped me find lodging, so I became Miss Cana's neighbor."
The entire Dusk Continent lay under The Deity of Darkness' dominion, with no nations to speak of. Sparsely populated and simpler in lifestyle, it was an understandable choice for someone already wary of the Church.
Kevin sighed. "I wonder what route those Church troops took when they landed in the south. Not that it mattered—they all died. Rumor has it The Deity of Fire, Blazegorn, appeared personally. He tore Dulin apart, then burned his soul to ashes. They say Dulin's screams echoed across the plains. The death of a Quasi-Deity is cataclysmic in its own way, let alone one who died in agony."
Dulin, a Quasi-Deity under Helios, had previously slain one of The Deity of Darkness' followers. Myma remembered this. "If The Deity of Fire is so powerful, why has the war against the Church dragged on for so long?"
"Well…" Kevin's expression turned complicated. "There are many reasons. For one, The Deity Blazegorn has no interest in battles between mortal races. Unless a Quasi-Deity or higher is involved, He won't intervene."
The girls exchanged glances. Myma ventured, "He's arrogant? Thinks slaughtering human or elven soldiers is beneath Him?"
"I wouldn't know. Perhaps." Kevin shrugged. "Even Half-Deities… Once, an archangel met Blazegorn's gaze and was blinded permanently. Though he was torn apart shortly after for blocking the path, so I suppose blindness was the lesser loss."
"Let's change the subject." Sophia said nervously, "so, sir, what brings you here today?"
"Ah, I nearly forgot. I came to commission a weapon. Any suggestions? And please, just call me Kevin."
Sophia brightened. "My father is one of Eloven's finest blacksmiths. He's in the workshop now. If you have designs, I can help estimate materials and costs."
"I've brought sketches." Kevin produced a parchment from his coat, unfurling it eagerly.
As their discussion grew animated, Myma suddenly felt like a third wheel. Not wanting to intrude, she excused herself. "I'll head home for lunch. You two carry on."