Chapter 363
Suck my blood, Lily
Although the entire Eagle Cape Village was now covered by “Amber,” as if the stars in the sky had been petrified and frozen…
In fact, time was still flowing normally. It was like a wheel that was originally smooth, jolting intermittently due to resistance. Because of this, Eivass and the others could not sleep in normal places, and could only quietly wait for time to return to dawn and reset everything.
After Merlin left, the only uninvited guest remaining was Yeats.
Eivass could finally chat with Yeats about the past.
They sat by the swamp, with Lily sitting beside them. Sherlock, on the other hand, seemed to have something to instruct Haina about. To prevent Haina from forgetting by accident, he pulled Haina along to get a notebook.
The swamp, which had already drained the “Yellow Springs Water,” was now like a bottomless pit shaped like a funnel.
If one fell from here, they would probably go straight to the Fey Realm. However, neither Eivass nor Yeats seemed to fear this.
Eivass did not turn back to look at the werewolf, but calmly said, “You’ve come to find me, Mr. Yeats.”
This was not a question, but a statement.
“If I’m not mistaken, Miss Viviane Mathers should be that Lady of the Lake Viviane.”
Eivass had already been suspicious of the unusually mature girl.
The half-elf girl adopted by Bishop Mathers’ sister was found in a too hasty manner. Eivass had thought at the time that she might be the reincarnation of Lady of the Lake Viviane, but there was no evidence yet.
But with Yeats as the lubricant for his logic, it all made sense.
Yeats, as a werewolf, deeply loved Viviane. According to the nature of the Path of Love, Viviane should be the witch who gave Yeats the Wolf Transformation Curse. Viviane needed to collect different kinds of love, and Yeats should be the collection element of “Master-Servant Love.”
Yeats knew Mathers and Jacob, and had even joined a mysterious society called the “Golden Dawn”—although Eivass had never heard of this society, knowing that there was some connection between them was enough.
Bishop Mathers had taken Eivass’s father, Giulio Alexander, as his disciple back then, clearly because he was good friends with Giulio’s father, Jacob. And most likely, Mathers’ obtaining exact information about the “Divine Entity” was also related to the Golden Dawn. Because this matter was directly related to Jacob.
And Jacob and Viviane had a long-standing cooperative relationship. In this way, Yeats’s connection to Viviane was explained.
Viviane’s choice of Bishop Mathers’ sister as her adoptive mother after reincarnation was also clearly not a coincidence.
—All this was connected.
He had already been in the game from the very beginning.
Facing the werewolf, who did not respond to him and merely looked up at the dim yellow moon, Eivass softly said, “But I think you must have some ideas of your own.”
“…Not as Viviane’s tool and pet, but hoping to gain a more proactive position. Even to reverse the master-servant relationship between us.”
Hearing Eivass’s words, Yeats finally turned back.
He stared at Eivass for a long time before finally speaking in a deep voice, “Did I reveal any flaws?”
“If I had to say,” Eivass got the answer he wanted, a slight smile on his lips, “it’s that I’m too much of a genius.”
“Whether you’re a genius or not is hard to say… but you are indeed sharp enough.”
Yeats slowly turned back, looking down at the center of the bottomless pit.
His body’s center of gravity tilted slightly forward, like a dangerous movement of leaning out from a high place in a building, gazing at the Fey hole.
The werewolf let out a low voice, “Sharpness like his.”
“Whose?”
“Your grandfather, Jacob.”
Yeats replied, “As a ‘Scammer,’ I’ve never successfully tricked him.”
“This is my first time seeing a Scammer with intact limbs and a complete face,” Eivass said sincerely, “It’s a very rare profession.”
“You know quite a lot,” Yeats finally laughed.
“Manipulating illusions and phantoms, inducing others, bewitching minds. Usually caught in casinos,” Eivass said softly, “After being caught, their limbs would be broken and treated incorrectly, causing bones to grow distorted. They would also be branded on the face with indelible marks to tell people that this was a Scammer.”
“But that method is useless.”
Yeats said calmly, “For a Scammer, creating human skin masks and impersonating others are the simplest things.”
Eivass nodded, “I know. Those fools think it’s useful because those Scammers act like they care. The more pain and fear they show, the more they seem to care, and the more enthusiastic people become. But they never think that the person in front of them is a Scammer who is good at manipulating lies.”
At this point, he squinted at Yeats, “Just like… your adoration for Viviane.
“—As a Scammer, can you lie to your own heart?”
Hearing this, Yeats remained silent for a long time.
“…Maybe I can, maybe I can’t,” he responded vaguely, looking at Eivass, “I thought you would ask me about Mathers.”
“I can go and ask Bishop Mathers about such things. I think he’ll be willing to tell me whatever he can.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want your ‘lies’.”
Eivass replied, “The Son of the Feast must get drunk at the feast, whether the cup holds blood or wine. Deception is the law of Adaptation Path, but even the youngest Heavenly Envoy of the Path of Love masters the principles of honey and illusion.”
Hearing this, Yeats looked deeply at Eivass.
“I can’t do it,” he answered bluntly, openly revealing the essence of his profession, “You might be good at lying, but you don’t understand the core of a Scammer. Extraordinary beings on the Path of Love only have themselves in their eyes, even deception is for deceiving themselves.”
“I really can’t.”
Eivass looked at Lily, “Then what about her?”
“Her?”
Yeats looked at Lily, a slight smile on his lips, “My young kinswoman… are you also a Scammer?”
“I am a Witch,” Lily replied, looking up.
Hearing this, Yeats was astonished, “Witch?”
He then burst into laughter. First, it was a low, sighing chuckle, which gradually turned into unrestrained laughter. Tears even streamed down his face.
“Alright, Witch… the dog trainer eventually becomes the hunting dog. How ironic.”
Yeats wiped his eyes and said sarcastically, “But a Witch can’t learn the skills of a Scammer.”
“That’s true,” Eivass nodded, “But she is also the successor of the Grey Heavenly Envoy.”
“The ‘Grey’ of Adaptation… neither black nor white, neither evil nor good words,” Yeats murmured, “It’s her.”
He turned back and looked at Lily, “Then perhaps you can learn my skills.
“As for you, Eivass, I’m somewhat of an elder to you. I have to remind you a couple of things… are you really so at ease, keeping a woman who is good at hiding herself, has the potential for madness, and is skilled at lying, right by your side?”
The werewolf stood up, hunched his back, and looked down at the two of them, letting out a light warning, “The Path of Love is a cursed path. The deeper you go, the crazier you become… Look at me, boy. I was once a youth like you.”
“Of course, I’m at ease,” Eivass said without hesitation, “I trust her—and she can’t leave me.”
“Hmph. A domesticated dog already.”
Yeats knew he could only get this answer when Eivass made this request. Therefore, he merely sneered, “I hope so.”
He reached out his hand towards Lily’s forehead.
At some unknown time.
It was as if it were an illusion, or as if a long time had passed.
When Yeats’s hand touched Lily’s forehead, it had already transformed into a ferocious wolf’s claw. And Yeats had turned into an incredibly terrifying and ferocious werewolf—not in the form of a gray wolf, but a giant wolf standing on its hind legs.
His transformation had no special effects or sounds. It was as if he had been standing there like this from the beginning.
And in his scarlet pupils, a well-restrained madness emanated.
“Come, girl,” the werewolf let out a hoarse, deep voice, “Let me see your most bloodthirsty and mad form.
“To learn lies, you must first understand your heart. Only by knowing what is true can you deceive your heart.”
Lily’s body trembled, as if fearing something.
But soon, she opened her eyes, revealing bloodthirsty vertical pupils.
She panted increasingly uncontrollably and looked back at Eivass’s silhouette. She gently placed her hand on Eivass’s shoulder from behind.
Eivass turned his head slightly, revealing his slender neck.
The corners of his lips curved upward.
“Aren’t you going to bite down, Lily?” Eivass’s gentle voice rang out.
His voice was clear and soft, “I permit it, child. Suck my blood.”
