The Enemy Always Wants to Pull Me into a Coffin

again?” Alessio tsked twice, “Humans and Vampires are not the same.
I can stay up as long as I want without it showing physically, so you should stay up less.”

    The Saint was silent for the first time, without any intention to retaliate against him.
Alessio frowned in confusion and approached the Saint.

    “God …… Ruzius, what’s wrong with you?”

    Hearing his name come out of the Vampire’s mouth, the Saint’s body shook slightly, and then lowered his eyelashes to hide the change in his expression.

    “Nothing.” He replied as calmly as he could, “I remembered something from the past last night, something about you …… destroying the Silver Cross.”

    It was one of Alessio’s achievements that he remembered.
He nodded rather happily at his words.

    “I remember that too.”

    Ruzius’ hand clenched.
He told himself not to ask not to ask, that it would only deepen his sin again, but despite what reason advised, he asked, pretending not to care.

    “I’m a little curious as to why you didn’t kill that hunter.”

    Immediately after asking, he kept his eyes on the Vampire’s expression.
He had anticipated the other person’s expressions as nervous, or a dawning realization, or a slight smile, but he found that he had expected all of those to be wrong ……

    Because the Vampire looked bewildered.

    He had to add some more, nominally hints, but in fact stakes that he himself was extremely concerned about.

    “You asked his name and let him ho.”

    Alessio thought hard for a moment before laughing, “Is there such a thing? I honestly don’t even remember this person.
What did I say then? I’m ninety percent sure, even if I had asked for the name, it would have been just to put in a harsh word.”

    [It’s a good name …… suitable for carving on a tombstone.]

    Ruzius felt his tightly wrinkled heart stretch out like never before.
He looked sideways at the Vampire next to him, his pointed fangs showing because he was wearing a bit of a smile, the pupils of his deep rose-coloured eyes looking up at him, the tattoo of a sword embracing a rose giving his whole face a kind of eminence that was unique to the dark creature.

    The Vampire didn’t remember the hunter or even that incident.

    “So, what’s the guy’s name?” Alessio was also a little curious at being asked that.

    “…… No need to tell you.”

    The Saint quickened his pace, leaving a slightly dazed Alessio behind.
Alessio buffered in place for a moment and was instantly furious.

    “Psycho! Then what are you asking me to remember the past for?!”

    He took back what he had said earlier about thinking the psycho was well-behaved! This is a psychopath! Is it fun to hang him?!

    Ruzius listened to the movement of the Vampire behind him as he quickly followed him, and took a deep breath in order to suppress the little smile that almost floated to his lips.
His left eye still warned him with sharp pain, but this time, he chose to ignore it.

    He remembered the aftermath of that memory from last night – 

    The Silver Cross of thorns crashed heavily to the ground, and the devotees wept aloud around the skeleton of the cross.
His teacher was among them, tears flowing slowly down his old cheeks.
When he raised his face again, it was full of bitter hatred.

    From the black mist behind the Lich, slowly emerged a monstrous beast, with a lion’s body and scorpion tail.
It also shed tears of hatred and, with its front paws in front, bowed deeply to the Vampire.

    This was the king of Manticores, the tower that Queen Delvi had built, forged from the tails of its people, and the Vampire had completed its revenge for its clan.

    Because he was looking at the memories, he could see the expressions on each face, the hatred, the awe, the fear and the ulterior motives.
He remembered what the vampire had asked him to think about.
He himself had committed a crime.
The chances of his teachers and friends, even if they possessed a stronger faith than his, breeding malice could not be said to equal zero.

    He still had a lot of time to think and verify it in his own memories.

    The world was no longer pure white in his eyes.

    He himself was the source of the stain.

    In order to welcome Alessio’s arrival, the Army Headquarters raised a grey curtain to ensure that the sun would not harm the vampire.
Alessio finally ended the conversation about psycho’s insomnia before setting off.
Had he not gone to the hospital before he left, he would still be in the dark about psycho.
Zhu Heng listened to his suggestion, and they plan to press the psycho back into the coffin to see the situation.

    The old marshal had some matters to attend to and could not meet them until noon, but he specially arranged for an adjutant to show them around briefly.
Alessio looked at the emblem of the *Griffin’s head at the Military Headquarters and asked.

(T/N: The Griffin is a mythical creature with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion; the head and wings of an eagle; and sometimes an eagle’s talons as its front feet.
Refer to the picture below)

    “There are still Griffins here?”

    A Griffin is very different from a scorpion lion.
The comparison is probably like that of a police dog and a husky.
Griffins were naturally good at following orders.
They have crystal wall magic and fire.
Their huge wings made them kings of the skies; in Alessio’s time, the Temple’s Griffin Knights were so formidable that powerful hunters would also usually sign a contract with a Griffin, sharing *weal and woe.

(T/N: Sharing honour and disgrace)

    Alessio remembered that Psycho once had one too.
He was lucky enough to live out its three-hundred-year life.

    After all, the Temple would freeze the psychopaths but would not go to the trouble of freezing a Griffin.

    “Yes.
Although the Headquarters does not have a large-scale Griffin training ground, it does have small grounds for Griffins to live in.” The adjutant said, “If you are interested, I will report to the Marshal and you can take a look this afternoon.”

    Alessio caught a glimpse of the psycho’s eyes lighting up and nodded dryly.

    Go if you like.
Although he was visually tired of seeing them, but at this stage, the psycho should not have seen much of a Griffin.

Griffin: