The kerosene lamp's weak glow couldn't push back the surrounding darkness. It only managed to illuminate a small area, just enough to catch the expressionless face of Norton, who wore a spotless white priest's robe.

  From the wooden cabin behind him came the creaking of furniture, accompanied by a voice filled with fear and pain.

  "Father Mia... can you really complete the blessing?"

  "Of course, my son. This is a priest's special blessing—noble and holy. Now, don't speak." Father Mia's voice sounded old and strangely excited.

  He really wasn't young anymore—sixty-nine years old, which by this era's standards made him elderly.

  Norton found the sounds from the cabin almost unbearable. The disgust on his face twisted into something ugly, and even the slightest noise felt like torture.

  Christ, he'd traveled through time, and now this classic Central European spectacle was playing out right before his eyes.

  The kerosene lamp's flame kept flickering until finally, the table's creaking gradually stopped.

  A moment later, an old man in black-and-white priest's robes emerged from the cabin, looking satisfied.

  The priest's hooked nose twitched slightly. Fatigue finally showed on his wrinkled face.

  "Excellent, my son. Remember to come back next week for another blessing. With my blessing, you can claim your daily ration of black bread. And now, I think you can leave."

  "Y-yes!" The voice from inside trembled with fear. Norton watched as a small figure stumbled out, leaning crookedly against the wall.

  Under Father Mia's seemingly kind gaze, the boy trembled as he held onto the wall, making his way down the dim path lit by a few candles.

  Once the boy's figure disappeared around the corner, the kindness vanished from Father Mia's face.

  He looked at the young priest beside him, who had returned to his expressionless state, and finally nodded approvingly.

  "Good, Norton. With you here, no one interrupts our blessing ceremonies."

  "It's my duty, Father." Norton bowed slightly, responding respectfully, with no trace left of his earlier disgust.

  Father Mia watched Norton's handsome face and the respect written all over it, then sighed with some regret.

  Ah, if only he'd arrived a few years earlier. Then Norton wouldn't feel so distant from him.

  Young Norton had no idea what thoughts were running through Father Mia's head. He just kept his head slightly bowed, his face full of genuine reverence.

  Father Mia studied Norton's handsome features once more before reluctantly pushing aside his inappropriate thoughts.

  "You're twenty now, right?"

  "Yes, Father."

  Father Mia thought for a moment before speaking. "You were raised by the Church and have soaked in its teachings since childhood. I believe your faith is strong enough. You'll join the Mass next week. Prepare yourself these next few days. Tomorrow I'll have someone explain the Mass procedures to you."

  "Yes, Father." Norton nodded respectfully, feeling a flicker of surprise.

  Not surprise about the Mass itself, but because he could finally go outside.

  He'd been born into this world, but right after birth he couldn't see anything. By the time he could, he was already inside this church.

  The previous priest had raised him, and after that priest died of old age, Father Mia had been sent to take over.

  He'd never been able to figure out exactly where he'd ended up. All he knew was that the era resembled something like the Central European Papal States. But from various Church practices, this clearly wasn't Central Europe—at least not the Central Europe he remembered from Earth.

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  For instance, the Church didn't recruit missionaries from outside. All missionaries were orphans the Church had raised. When they turned twenty, they would start conducting Mass and officially become missionaries.

  Before that, these young priests weren't allowed to step outside the church, stand in high places, look into the distance, or talk to outsiders. They had to wear hooded robes and walk with their heads down.

  White-armored Church soldiers guarded the church's perimeter, encircling the entire area. Escape was impossible. Anyone caught breaking these rules would be beheaded.

  In twenty years, Norton had seen at least ten priests lose their heads that way. Since they all lived in the church, he knew every single one of them. That fear kept him from ever trying to leave. He just waited to turn twenty and become a missionary who could finally come and go freely.

  So for twenty years, he'd never once gone out. He couldn't even reach the church doors, let alone figure out where exactly he'd ended up.

  "You can go back now." Father Mia glanced at Norton again and waved him away.

  "Yes, Father." Norton bowed once more and disappeared into the dark corridor.

  The church was massive inside. From the priest down to the lowest-ranking congregants, there were probably over a thousand people. Though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what world this was, the church's condition suggested this was probably something like the Papal States era.

  Norton returned to his room.

  Orphans taken in by the Church were just believers until age ten, sharing rooms in groups—like the dormitories he remembered from his past life. After ten, the priest would baptize them, making them full priests. From that level on, they got their own small room.

  It wasn't big—a standard six square meters at most. Besides the bed, there was barely room for a table and a cabinet for belongings.

  Norton's room was even more bare. No cabinet—just a bed stuffed with straw and covered with old clothes, a small table holding a kerosene lamp and two religious texts, and that was it.

  Oh, and there were leaves stuck together on the floor, still giving off a faint hormonal musk.

  Norton lit the kerosene lamp. Its weak glow flickered slightly—not much light, but better than nothing.

  He'd barely settled on his bed when someone knocked at his door.

  "Knock, knock, knock."

  "Priest Norton. Father Mia sent me to bring you these." A muffled male voice came from outside.

  Norton opened the door. A missionary in a white robe stood there, holding a stack of worn books.

  Seeing Norton at the door, the missionary silently shoved the five books into Norton's arms, then turned and walked away without a word.

  That was normal enough. Most missionaries here had some screws loose—growing up isolated like that, having some mental problems was more surprising than not.

  Plus, the Church forbade priests and missionaries from interacting too much. They even did bed checks at night. In twenty years, Norton had exchanged maybe a handful of words with the other priests who grew up alongside him. This kind of isolated life was slowly driving him insane.

  Norton carefully carried the books back into his room and set them on the wooden table.

  Looking at them, two tears slid silently down his cheeks, though his face stayed completely blank.

  The way they'd been kept here was criminal. In twenty years, the only books they'd been allowed to read were three religious texts.

  The Bible. Baptism. Eden.

  These five books on the table were the only new information he'd had access to in two decades.

  Curiosity, long dormant, slowly stirred back to life. Though buried for ages, it still made his heart race, sending small but overwhelming ripples through his usually dead emotions.

  The tears kept coming, but his face remained still.

  Norton sat on the bed, feeling his heart pound, unable to suppress his hunger any longer. He picked up one of the books and stared at it intently.

  The books here weren't paper, fabric, or bamboo. They were made from some thin, almost translucent material he couldn't identify.

  Holding them too long made them feel slightly oily. Holding them over the kerosene lamp produced a faint smell, almost like cooking meat.

  He didn't want to admit it, but given this era's absurdity and darkness, he strongly suspected these were made from human skin.

  Norton picked up the first one.

  Mass.

  This explained the Mass procedures.

  According to the book, Mass meant Norton would take bread to the believer gatherings—the slums—hand it out, do some good deeds. Afterwards, he'd follow the group to a place called the "Sanctuary" to receive Father Mia's blessing, offer his most faithful worship to God "Caesar," undergo the Sanctuary's holy water baptism, and finally pofficially become a missionary.

  The process wasn't complicated. The main thing was finally getting out. Just reading the words made Norton excited.

  The second book was called The Covenant.

  And this one was... different.

  Norton frowned. The more he read, the more he questioned everything.

  The Covenant was a typical book depicting events involving God "Caesar," similar to the Bible.

  But while The Bible focused entirely on God's greatness and contributions, The Covenant showed his negative side.

  For example, The Bible said: Caesar opened his eyes, and chaos became clarity. God said: Let there be universe, and the universe appeared. God said: Let there be life, and all things were born. Life was born unable to reproduce, without death, without order, so God created Eden...

  But The Covenant was very thin, with little content, and it all painted a negative picture, especially with various monster stories.

  For instance: God created Eden. At first, order was in chaos. Serpents mated with elephants, producing "Yindan" (a monster). Horses mated with chickens, producing "Epoch" (a monster). This mating disturbed God's peace, so humanity was created. God mated with women, producing "Shenyin" (the highest God in The Bible). God mated with men, producing "Yona" (the original Death God ruling hell in The Bible). God mated with corpses, producing "Kuba" (the vampire progenitor in Eden)...

  See what this book said? This Caesar guy had urges and started producing little monsters.

  Norton had thought the priest and the boy thing was strange enough. But looking at it now, Father Mia truly was a man of God, faithfully following divine teachings.

  It all made sense, really. Like father, like son, as they say.

  Norton flipped the page. The next section got even stranger.

  [All things reproduced, none died. Eden grew too large, so God created death and hung it in the sky. He made Shenyin the Lord of Life, governing all beginnings. He made Yona the Lord of Death, managing all endings. Only Kuba displeased him, so God exiled him.

  To escape death, Kuba avoided sunlight forever.]

  With that, The Covenant ended. It was certainly... interesting.

  But mainly it highlighted two things: vampires, and death = sunlight.

  Norton set the book down. Twenty years had passed, but he still remembered his past life pretty well. Words like "vampire" immediately brought back Earth legends about them.

  He used to love dark stuff like that, so he'd researched vampires extensively and read plenty about them.

  First thing to clarify: vampires weren't in the Earth Bible. The whole "vampire progenitor Cain" thing came from a company doing fan-fiction based on Cain's Biblical fate, which then spread widely.

  So Earth vampires were ultimately just made up.

  But this place was completely different. Both the Church's official book Eden and this The Covenant had real vampire descriptions.

  The Covenant explained vampire origins—God mating with corpses. And Eden itself described vampire habits with detailed annotations.

  According to Eden, Kuba avoided sunlight entirely to escape death, so he was nocturnal. Since he couldn't farm without sun (another version said he wouldn't eat sun-absorbing life—plants—because he feared death), he had to hunt.

  But Shenyin, who ruled living things, wouldn't let him kill animals for food. And Yona, who ruled the dead, wouldn't let him eat corpses. So he could only sneak blood from sleeping animals at night, without killing them, to survive. That's why he was called the Blood Progenitor, or vampire.

  Eden clearly described vampires as a concept. Norton couldn't tell if this was just Church propaganda or if they really existed.

  He knew nothing about the outside world. He couldn't even rule out the possibility that gods and vampires actually existed here.

  He'd just have to stay alert and watch out, in case he went outside and discovered this place really did have gods, vampires, or monsters—and then got snatched up by something.