Maric turned to Father Utravsky and said solemnly, "My apologies, Father. We'll fully compensate the church for the damage."
The priest sat off to the side, flipping through a thick book of doctrine. At Maric's words, he gave a calm nod, showing no hint of the ferocity he'd displayed as the raging Dawn Paladin just moments before.
"Did the two of you come looking for me for a particular reason?" Edward asked.
Maric glanced at Sharron and shook his head.
"Not really. We mistook the vampire for you, and once we discovered he was being held captive here, we mounted the rescue—consider it paying off the debt from that previous commission."
Emlyn shouted in protest at just the right moment, "It's Sanguine, a NOBLE Sanguine!!"
"I see. Thank you both, truly," Edward replied.
Though their objective tonight might have simply been to settle an old favor, a rescue was still a rescue. Edward sincerely felt grateful.
Maric turned to Sharron, "Since it's all a misunderstanding, let's head back, Sharron."
Sharron, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke, "I just heard you talking about a commission. Perhaps we can help as well."
The priest was silent for a few seconds, then said seriously, "Kill me."
Emlyn blurted out in shock, "Are you crazy?!"
Sharron, however, showed no trace of surprise. She nodded slightly, lost in thought.
"You mean to eliminate your alternate personality? I sensed his presence when I possessed you earlier—a completely deranged and violent creature."
"I call him my 'former self.' But yes, you're not wrong."
"And how do you plan to eliminate him?"
The priest retrieved the Mental Terror Candle once more and explained his previous plan.
"If I have another method, would you be willing to try it?" Sharron asked.
"I would," he replied, his voice without the slightest hesitation.
"I can use possession to erase him—but only if you don't resist, even a little."
"I understand," the priest said.
He stood, instantly becoming an intimidating giant.
"Come with me."
Watching the two of them leave, Edward scratched his head in confusion, "Uh…so…there's nothing for me to do anymore?"
———
Half an hour later.
Father Utravsky returned, his cloudy eyes glistening with tears, the wrinkles on his face etched with the traces of crying. But his gaze was filled with emotion, joy, and clarity. His whole being radiated serenity.
"Thank you all."
A gentle, kind smile appeared on his face.
He handed the Mental Terror Candle to Edward.
"This is yours now."
Edward quickly waved his hands.
"Father, it was Miss Sharron who helped you fulfil the commission."
"No. It was because of you that Lady Sharron arrived. Because of you, she chose to help. I believe all of this was the guidance of the Mother. I have been reborn—and you should receive what is rightfully yours."
Sharron's form faded into solidity. Her complexion was paler than before—it was clear that eradicating the priest's darker self had not been easy. After a moment's hesitation, she said, "Father, about the damage to the church…"
Father Utravsky smiled.
"No need."
Edward keenly noticed Sharron exhale in relief. It seemed her financial situation really wasn't great. No wonder she'd later take on bodyguard jobs for Klein.
Hmm? Come to think of it, there's this odd vibe between her and Klein.
Like…the couple that's perpetually broke?
After this series of misunderstandings, Father Utravsky gained a new life, Sharron and Maric found Edward, and Edward received the Mental Terror Candle.
A triple win!
As for Emlyn, he was left to unwillingly clean up the mess, grumbling as he worked, "Why is it always me? I'm the one who got impersonated, I'm the one who got kidnapped, and in the end, I'm the one who suffers? Why?!"
"Goodbye, Mr. Vampire."
"Bastard! It's Sanguine! Sanguine!"
———
Just as Edward stepped out of the Harvest Church, a sudden chill swept through the air. Bone-white skeletal fragments pierced through the atmosphere and landed around him, quickly assembling into a massive skeletal creature.
It was Mr. Azik's messenger.
The creature tilted its head, the flames in its eye sockets flickering softly as it handed a letter to Edward.
"Thank you."
It made no reply, standing silently, as if waiting for Edward's response.
The letter was simple and concise:
"Your request is a small matter, but please wait a few more days. I have yet to finish my business. It involves the future of that child, Priscilla."
You could've just said, "I'm not done yet," but no—you even explained the reason. Honestly, without his memories, Mr. Azik really was the gentlest and kindest senior.
Edward looked up at the messenger.
"I don't have a reply. Thank you for your trouble."
The next second, the bones collapsed into a heap and vanished.
"Haa…time for bed!"
———
The next morning.
After washing up, Edward grabbed a special toothbrush and began brushing Lilith's teeth.
At first, she insisted on doing it herself, but no matter how hard her little paws spread, she just couldn't grip the toothbrush.
Once the ordeal of brushing was finally over, she declared she'd wash her face by herself. After several failed attempts to grab the towel, she opted instead for a traditional feline method—licking her paw and wiping her face.
With utter seriousness, she declared, "Cats wash their faces this way!"
It gave Edward the distinct illusion that his precious daughter was entering a rebellious phase.
After breakfast, Edward picked up a copy of the Backlund Morning Post. As usual, he flipped straight to page five to check for any announcements about Beyonder gatherings. Then he turned back to the front page. The headline read in bold:
"Emperor Roselle Commemorative Exhibition to Open at the Royal Museum in Two Weeks—Tickets Selling Fast!"
Uh…is this supposed to be news, or an advertisement?
Come to think of it, wasn't one of the Cards of Blasphemy—the Black Emperor Card—hidden in some book at that very exhibition?
And my Bookworm ability…still hasn't been settled.
Should I…?
Hmm, forget it. Better leave it to Klein. If the time comes and I really need it, I'll just borrow it from The Great Fool himself. I've already built up a pile of 'merit' over there anyway.
At 9:30, just as Edward was about to head out to find Audrey and use the Mental Terror Candle to 'disinfect' her, someone knocked on the door.
It was Klein and Dunn, whom he'd contacted yesterday via messenger. The two stood side by side, and it was immediately obvious—no matter how Klein tried to disguise it, he couldn't hide his youthful inexperience. He looked every bit like Detective Dunn's apprentice.
The three of them moved to the second-floor lounge.
"Looks like you two have settled nicely into your new lives. That calls for a celebration! Klein, come here, give me a hug!" Edward opened his arms, inviting Klein to join in a celebratory embrace.
But Klein clearly wasn't into this strange burst of enthusiasm. Seeing Edward stand there, arms open and refusing to take no for an answer, Klein reluctantly shuffled forward for the briefest of contact before retreating as if burned.
Dunn watched from the side with a broad smile. Once Klein had awkwardly recovered, Dunn's expression turned solemn.
"Edward, everything happened so quickly last time that I never got the chance to properly thank you."
He took a step back and bowed deeply.
"Thank you for saving Tingen."
Klein quickly followed suit.
"Thank you for saving us."
"Uh—" Edward hurried to help them up.
"Come on, Captain, what's all this? I'm a member of the Nighthawks too, you know! And really, when it came to dealing with Lanevus, it was you, Klein, and Leonard who fought to the bitter end. I…I honestly didn't do that much."
Of course, Dunn and Klein didn't agree. The three of them had been pushed to the brink back then—if Edward hadn't shown up in time, their best outcome would've been taking Lanevus down with them.
Klein suddenly remembered something and asked, "By the way, Edward…when can the Captain and I 'come back to life'?"
Edward hesitated for a moment before answering, "That…I'm not really sure. Maybe you could try asking the Goddess directly?"
You trying to get me killed?
Klein looked disappointed. These past few days, he kept thinking about the moment he secretly watched his brother and sister attend his own funeral. He truly hoped he could be 'revived' soon—then walk up to the door with some fresh lamb and peas, and say with feigned calm under their shocked gazes: "I'm home. Tonight, we're having lamb stew with peas."
Dunn took a long drag from his pipe, then spoke in a low voice, "Edward…what if I just stayed dead?"
"???"
Edward and Klein turned to him in surprise.
"I mean…I don't want to be 'revived' again."
He walked to the window, gazing out at the bustling street.
"I'm a bit tired. And honestly, I think I've come to like the past few days."
Klein instantly understood how the Captain felt. After joining the Nighthawks, he hadn't seen Dunn rest a single day—and it had nothing to do with the reduced sleep of Sleepless. It was mental and physical exhaustion from constant overwork.
In the original timeline, Dunn had fulfilled the role of 'protector' right up until his final breath. He was, without question, a good man—a great one. Selfless, tirelessly dedicating himself to the safety of ordinary people. But…
But should good men always be the ones to bleed and suffer?
Why should good people be the ones with guns pointed at them?"
Edward never doubted Dunn's loyalty to the Church, nor his commitment to protecting others. But he could still understand this shift in his thinking.
"You've really thought this through?"
Dunn turned around and laughed.
"Heh, now that you ask, I'm not so sure anymore."
"Well, in that case, my suggestion is…"
Edward blinked.
"Ask Miss Daly what she thinks."
Dunn: "…"
"Why would Captain ask Miss Daly?" Klein asked, confused.
"You'll understand when you grow up."
Klein snapped, "??? Hey! I'm like seven or eight years older than you!"
"Wow, I really envy you. To be your age and still have such a pure, innocent heart—so clean and untainted."
"…Are you passive-aggressively calling me childish?"
"Mhm. Also very sharp!"
"Go to hell!"
Klein kicked at him, only for Edward to dodge with ease.
"Alright! That's enough joking around. Time for something a little more serious."
"Although Ince Zangwill lost the quill, that doesn't mean he's dead—or that he's no longer a threat. In theory, he should hate me the most…but the two of you are absolutely still on his shit list."
Klein's expression turned cold.
"Even if he doesn't come after me, I'll never let him go!"
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.