Chereads / My half-blood lady. / Chapter 33 - It's a shame you can't be cruel. It's a shame you're not heartless.

Chapter 33 - It's a shame you can't be cruel. It's a shame you're not heartless.

The Grand Scripture Reciter, Elena Perkins, was born weak and sickly and couldn't complete the ride on her own. Several carriages were arranged in the procession heading north from the Holy Mary Religious Territory.

However, all these carriages were completely damaged by the attacks of the Beastmen and couldn't be used again.

Grevya ordered her attendants to rush back to Cole Town to prepare carriages. It wasn't until noon when the carriages arrived at Oliver Village smoothly that they finally set off on their return journey.

"What did you see in the afterlife?"

In the slightly bumpy carriage, Grevya and Daphne sat facing each other. She held her staff horizontally between her legs with both hands, her gaze fixed straight as she glanced at Daphne.

"Just... darkness? There was nothing..." Daphne trembled slightly all over, hugging her own arms and curling up. "And it was so cold, a bone-chilling cold... colder than the winters here."

"Were there any special signs before you woke up?" Grevya's tone was flat, without the slightest touch of human warmth, sounding more like an interrogation.

"A beam of light. I saw a beam of light." Daphne was very expressive, and even managed to squeeze out a tear from the corner of her eye. "That beam of light dispelled the darkness and the cold. It was warm and blazing. I saw the figure of a lady standing in the light. That must be the kind and great Lady Vanitaya."

Of course, the stone-hearted Saintess couldn't have much of a reaction to Daphne's emotional performance. She just commented blandly, "This time when Lady Vanitaya showed up, it seemed that she was even more attentive than when I was a child. The Sun Goddess must have had a reason for bringing you back to the mortal world."

The word "attentive" somehow sounded strange. Could it be that when a deity showed its power, there was also such a thing as being "perfunctory"?

However, according to the original plotline, after giving her blessing to Grevya, Vanitaya went back to sleep again. She didn't even bother to open her eyes to do anything when her chosen one was killed by the Blood Clan.

In a way, that could also be considered a kind of "perfunctory".

But there was nothing that could be done about it. The Sun Goddess Vanitaya now only existed as an incomplete concept. The souls of many Order deities, like her, had already dissipated and couldn't be reunited.

"After returning to Cole Town, please take a good rest for a while." Grevya's eyes, like ice crystals, showed no emotion. When her gaze fell on someone, it made people tremble slightly. "The Knight Order has encountered a lot of troubles recently and probably won't have much energy to take care of you. Please bear with us."

"I just need a quiet room. I won't cause you too much trouble." Daphne smiled awkwardly.

"It's best that you can understand."

After giving a brief response, Grevya closed her eyes and took a rest on her own, without saying another word.

She's really not cute.

As the carriage swayed slightly, Daphne thought to herself as she looked at Grevya, who was resting with her eyes closed across from her. Compared to Edith, the Saintess was much colder and duller, and seemed really not cute.

There were differences in raising daughters.

Although Daphne had always regarded them as the backbone forces to resist the Twilight of the End in the future and shouldn't have invested too much emotion, she wasn't really heartless after all.

But with Grevya's personality like this, it was difficult for Daphne to regard her as a daughter.

She had no emotions, no desires, no pursuits.

It seemed that nothing mattered to her. She would do whatever she was asked to do, more like an obedient puppet or machine rather than a lively young girl.

She was indifferent to human feelings and had a mess of interpersonal relationships.

She used her icy heart to guess other people's thoughts and emotions every day, living such a tiring and unnecessary life.

A strand of platinum hair fell from her forehead and hung down by the Saintess's delicate eyebrow. She didn't notice it, and her breathing was steady and even, as if she had already fallen asleep.

She probably hadn't slept all night.

Yesterday, the Pope disappeared, and today there was such a commotion early in the morning.

With Bertram gone and Alvis absent, Grevya was the only leader of these Templar Knights. She had to shoulder the burden.

Daphne couldn't help but want to reach out to help Grevya tuck that strand of hair behind her ear, but her fingertips stopped an inch in front of her brow.

She suddenly realized that she was no longer Pope Bertram. The Grand Scripture Reciter Elena and the Saintess Grevya should have just met each other for the first time today, and such an intimate gesture that only relatives would do shouldn't happen anymore.

Obviously, even though she had come back here, many things couldn't go back to the way they were before.

She silently withdrew her hand, and there was a bit more loneliness in Daphne's eyes.

The skirt unavoidably revealed her white silk thighs through the high slit as she sat sideways. The cold wind from the North Territory blew through the gaps in the curtain and into the narrow carriage compartment. Grevya shivered during her short nap during the journey.

"Stupid Saintess, what will you do without me and Edith?" Daphne sighed.

She took off the cloak behind her and gently covered Grevya's thighs with it.

...

The two Templar Knights who had accompanied Grevya stayed in Oliver Village to prevent the increasingly rampant Beastmen from attacking the village, while Grevya and Daphne arrived back at Cole Town smoothly in the carriage in the afternoon.

The local church in Cole Town was right in the center of the town. The houses were lined up on both sides of the middle road. Behind a wide square, a rather solemn black-and-white large building stood out conspicuously.

A gilded cross was erected on the pointed roof, and the emblem of the Sun Goddess, composed of a sundial and a long sword, was engraved under the eaves.

The tables and chairs in the church hall had been removed and replaced by some temporary linen beds. The smell of blood, rot, and herbs mixed together, making it seem less like a church and more like a hospital.

In fact, that was exactly the case. There was no hospital in the small town, and only a building as large as the church could accommodate so many wounded people.

The local priest in the small town heard the news that the Grand Scripture Reciter Elena had come back to life and was on her way to Cole Town. As soon as Grevya led Daphne into the church, this small-town priest came forward to greet them.

The priest, Amos, was nearly fifty years old. A few strands of hair showing from under the edge of his white priest's hat were an aging silver-gray. His rigid and serious face was cut by several tough wrinkles, and he looked like a man with a rather bad temper.

"Miss Elena, the emerald of the Holy Mary Religious Territory, I've heard so much about you." The priest forced an unnatural smile on his aging face. "After this incident, it's almost a certainty that you will become the Archbishop of the Holy Mary Religious Territory. Lady Vanitaya's favor and kindness have almost put you on a par with the Saintess."

It didn't sound too friendly.

Coupled with the fact that Amos was glancing at Grevya beside Daphne intentionally or unintentionally, it was hard not to suspect that there was something implied in the old man's words.

"Only Miss Elena survived out of the sixty-four-person team. Surviving a narrow escape is no easy feat. She needs a quiet environment to rest now." Grevya had always been indifferent to the hidden intentions in people's words. She coldly interrupted the priest's unfriendly small talk. "Have you reserved a room for the Grand Scripture Reciter, Priest Amos?"

Amos cleared his throat awkwardly. He was just about to speak when he was interrupted by a series of short, brisk footsteps.

"Sister, you're back!"

A girl with long golden curly hair lifted the hem of her light blue long dress and came downstairs quickly with a pattering sound. Before her figure even appeared, her soft voice, as pleasant as a bell, echoed through the church hall.

Hearing that familiar voice, Daphne's mood immediately relaxed a lot, as if all the hardships she had experienced before no longer existed.

As long as Edith was still there, everything would be okay.

Because she was just like an angel.