This noblewoman named Elizabeth was a vampire.
In the world of vampires, bloodline and strength represent status. Superiors hold absolute power over the lives and deaths of their inferiors, and the hierarchy is strictly defined.
However, with the exception of the blood thralls they personally transform, vampires generally exist in a state of complete distrust toward one another.
Lower-generation vampires can increase their bloodline density by devouring the souls of higher-generation ones, while higher-generation vampires can use the inherent constraints of the bloodline to directly demand the submission of lower-generation ones.
This was exactly the situation Sophie was facing.
Without a doubt, the other party was showing unmasked hostility.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have thrown a Bloodline Majesty at her the moment they met.
Sophie’s Heart of Yin couldn't reverse this immediate effect that had no duration.
Fortunately, Sophie was one step ahead. With her Pure Lust skill, she avoided the fate of becoming a mindless puppet.
Since the opponent had shown her hand, Sophie naturally had to respond accordingly.
She lowered her eyelids, her shoulders shrinking slightly in cooperation, and then quickly allowed the focus in her eyes to completely dissolve into a blank stare.
Playing dumb—she was a professional.
“Hehehehe...”
Elizabeth’s sharp, biting laughter rang out.
The jeweled folding fan in her hand snapped shut with a crack, and she casually tapped the ribs of the fan against the palm of her other hand.
“My, my, Bishop Modi. Is this the so-called miracle, the so-called Saintess you so arrogantly proclaimed earlier?”
“Well then, let this beggar ‘Saintess’ that the Bishop pulled from some gods-forsaken gutter show us her ‘aptitude’ for the role, shall we?”
Elizabeth placed a heavy emphasis on the word “aptitude.”
“If she can demonstrate the necessary aptitude today, then I might, with great reluctance, acknowledge her as Bennis's replacement and the new Bishop.”
At those words, Modi’s eyes instantly lit up.
He certainly didn't doubt the Saintess’s aptitude. If the noble faction within the sect could also acknowledge her status and everyone worked together for the Moon Goddess, that would be ideal.
The Hero's threat was imminent; the sect's members really shouldn't be squabbling over power and profit.
Just as Modi was about to pull a bottle of holy water from his pocket to have Sophie perform the trick of drinking it...
Sophie spoke without warning.
The silver-haired girl tilted her head slightly, staring at Elizabeth with those completely unfocused eyes, and said, “Then let me ask you, are you male or female?”
Modi: “?”
New Moon cultists: “?”
Modi’s hand, clutching the holy water bottle, froze inside his robes.
The cultists below the stage stopped whispering and looked at each other in confusion.
Except for Elizabeth and her maid, everyone else present stared with wide eyes.
What on earth was this woman, whom Modi had praised to the heavens, babbling about?
Was she blind? Could she not see Lady Elizabeth’s proud figure and magnificent noble gown? Could she not distinguish between a man and a woman?
Sophie didn't stop just because of the awkward silence; she continued in a wooden tone.
“Let me ask you?” Sophie continued. “If you’re a man, then let me ask you, are you bald? If you’re a woman, are you bald or do you have hair? Let me ask you?”
Modi: “...”
New Moon cultists: “...”
“I might be the Saintess, but the Saintess being me is a bit impossible.”
Sophie touched the ahoge on top of her head.
“Eh? Why is the top of my head pointy?”
Modi: “...”
New Moon cultists: “...”
“Ah, hahahahahaha!”
Elizabeth finally couldn't hide her arrogant laughter.
Perfect. This was simply too perfect.
Elizabeth was overjoyed.
The so-called Divine Chosen that Modi had brought back turned out to be nothing more than a pathetic vampire fledgling.
This old man thought he was being clever, but wasn't he just handing her a laughingstock on a silver platter and giving up the bishop position in the process?
Now, everyone present could see clearly what a disastrous and irreparable fool this old dotard Modi had made of himself at the sect’s most critical moment.
Elizabeth elegantly flicked open her folding fan, covering half of her face which was twisted with laughter. She gleefully scanned the cultists standing around, waiting to enjoy their betrayal and scorn toward Modi.
Then, a sudden shout erupted from the crowd.
“Wonderful! This is exactly how a Saintess should be!”
A cultist who had originally belonged to Bennis’s faction suddenly fell to his knees with a thud, hands raised high, his face full of fanaticism.
“This state of drooling even if cured, these words that transcend worldly logic—this is exactly how a Saintess should look! These are Divine Words! The Lady is using her mouth to test our enlightenment!”
“Well said! Those profound questions... hearing them makes my heart feel so at peace!”
“You are the vessel chosen by the Lady!”
Deafening cheers of praise echoed through the theater.
And Modi, with tears streaming down his face, clapped repeatedly. “I knew I wasn't wrong about you! You are the Moon Goddess's Divine Chosen! The true Saintess!”
Clatter.
The folding fan in Elizabeth’s hand dropped to the floor as she stood there, dumbfounded.
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