5.3

“Once upon a time, a very long time ago, there was a village that worshipped the Goddess with fanatical devotion. In that village, a girl was born. Unlike the villagers, the girl did not believe fervently in the Goddess, who was nothing more than an illusion. That’s not to say she was without faith, but the villagers thought her strange. As she grew into a beauty like a flower, they began calling her the child of the devil, and even her parents were subjected to ridicule. And then… coinciding with the atmosphere of a great massacre, she was falsely accused of being a vampire and was killed at the hands of the fanatics.”  

She had to die for such a ridiculous reason. Unable to suppress her anger, Helena gripped the chair in front of her tightly, the wood creaking and splintering under her grasp. Isaac, startled, tried to approach her, but Helena stopped him by showing her unscathed hand.  

“See? Perfectly fine. Back then, she also miraculously became fine. Even after being beaten severely by the fanatics—her skin torn, bruised, and coughing up blood—she prayed desperately to the Goddess as she lay dying. She promised to believe and follow the Goddess more faithfully if only she would stop those who believed in her and save her. But the one who saved her wasn’t the ‘Goddess.’ It was a ‘vampire.’”  

One phrase weighed heavily on Isaac’s heart: ‘A vampire was her salvation.’ The ones who had killed her were the believers of the Goddess. The tragedy brought on by their blind faith was utterly devastating.  

“The moment he turned her into a vampire, the pain disappeared. On the contrary, she felt as though strength was surging through her. The vampire told her that if she wanted revenge, she should take it on the fanatics who were fleeing far away. But she didn’t want to. Doing so would make her no different from them.”  

Isaac felt something indescribable as he listened to her speak of how she had refused revenge, even though she had been unjustly killed by the believers. If the vampire hadn’t intervened, she would have surely died. Yet, despite everything, she chose not to retaliate. To Isaac, she seemed far more sacred than the devout believers of the Goddess.  

“But Isaac, she never wanted to become a vampire. The thought of living off the lives of others to sustain her own was horrifying. There were times when she refused to drink blood. But if she didn’t, she would die—and she didn’t want to die. To have her soul extinguished, unable to go to the Goddess’s side or even to the gods’ prison, meant there would be no next life. It meant complete annihilation.”  

Helena paused and lowered her gaze.  

“That truth terrified her. So, what she chose was to drink only the bare minimum of blood. There was a way for vampires to survive on very little blood. That’s how she—how I—have lived.”  

Finishing her story, Helena forced a smile. That method was to drink the blood of someone who loved her. The power of love—it sounded like something out of a fairy tale, didn’t it?  

‘No, perhaps there’s nothing more fitting for a vampire than that.’  

To survive, she had to drink the blood of someone who harbored feelings of love for her. Outwardly, it seemed like a romantic and fairy tale-like notion, but in truth, it was no different from exploiting and betraying those pure feelings. Perhaps it was an act befitting the vile vampires the Holy Order spoke of.  

At one point, Helena found herself so repulsed and disgusted by the way she clung to life in such a manner that she could barely stand herself. However, as time passed, and as the fleeting lives of humans began to feel meaningless, she grew numb to those brief emotions. She had truly become a monster.  

Helena let out a weak, self-deprecating laugh as she turned her gaze away from the Goddess Statue to look at Isaac.  

‘…Yes. That’s how it was.’  

She had long since stopped being swayed by the fleeting emotions of humans. Yet, she couldn’t pinpoint when it had all changed. What had started as a story born out of her arrogance—that he loved her—had somehow turned into a tale she herself had become engrossed in.  

“…Helena.”  

Isaac called her name sorrowfully as he rose from his seat. Kneeling before her, he took her cold hand in his and pressed his forehead to the back of it, as if he were a priest receiving ordination from a bishop.  

It was just an old story, and yet the unwavering faith he had held until now was beginning to falter. Why had the Goddess not cared for her? Someone so noble, so pure. She hadn’t even resented or sought revenge against those who had falsely accused her and killed her. And yet, those who had killed her had likely cried out the Goddess’s name, claiming righteousness.  

“Isaac. Do you believe in old stories?”  

“When I said I would listen to anything, to any words you spoke… it meant I would believe them all. My Helena.”  

For the first time, the possessive tone she had grown so weary of hearing from Dennis felt sweet to her ears.  

Feeling as though the storm surging within her heart had finally calmed, Helena lowered her head and kissed the crown of Isaac’s head. It was an action reminiscent of a bishop’s blessing during an ordination ceremony. She wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, given how long ago it had been, but she trusted that he would understand her intent.  

“I, Isaac, who dedicate myself to you, vow to serve and follow you from this day forward. Your words will be my scripture, and to keep your blessings for myself alone.”  

The prayer of ordination, altered to replace ‘the Goddess’ with ‘you’ and to change ‘to spread your blessings to all’ to ‘to keep your blessings for myself alone,’ revealed Isaac’s selfishness. Helena couldn’t help but let out a sorrowful laugh.  

“May the blessing of Helena be with me, Priest Isaac.”  

As he raised his head to look at her, he pulled her closer by the back of her head and kissed her. The faith he had thought was as fortified as a castle wall had crumbled like a sandcastle, collapsing completely once it began to waver. Forgetting entirely that they were in a prayer room, Isaac fervently sought her lips.  

Their shadows flickered on the Goddess Statue, illuminated by the candlelight. As Isaac’s hands pulled her closer, Helena’s balance shifted downward.  

Thud—  

In the end, unable to hold herself up, she collapsed onto Isaac. Fortunately, he had been holding her, so despite the sound of the fall, neither of them was hurt. Instead, their closeness allowed their tongues to intertwine even more deeply.

Isaac pushed his tongue further into Helena’s mouth, brushing against her teeth and tasting the tender flesh within. Her sweet mouth was reminiscent of the scent of roses that had seeped deep into his lungs. While he swept his tongue across the roof of her mouth, her smooth tongue slipped into his, invading his space. Welcoming it, he nibbled lightly and sucked on it firmly.

“Ahh.”

A moan, tinged with reproach, escaped from Helena’s lips under Isaac’s persistent kiss. Only then did Isaac release her tongue and pull back. A thin strand of saliva precariously connected their lips before breaking.

“Isaac, do you desire me?”

“Yes. I love you more than anything.”

No other words were necessary between them. Helena, who had been lying atop Isaac, straightened her upper body and began unbuttoning his priestly robes one by one. Meanwhile, Isaac untied the string fastening her bodice. Their eyes, locked on each other as they undressed, were filled with desire.

Helena’s chest was the first to be revealed, bouncing into view. Isaac swallowed dryly. Seeing her, just as she had appeared in his dreams, right before his eyes made him hesitate momentarily. 

Was it right to consummate our love so soon after confessing it? Moreover, this was a place where the villagers came to pray. 

But Helena, as if unwilling to give him time to hesitate, took his hand and placed it on her chest.

“You said you wanted me. Focus on me.”

The scent of roses, so intoxicating it made him dizzy, overwhelmed Isaac’s entire being. Gradually, he began to realize that the intimacy he thought was a dream might not have been a dream at all. Perhaps he had already given his chastity to Helena. With that thought, his faith wavered further, and he vividly felt the softness and suppleness beneath his palm.

As his fingers moved across her chest, the tender sensation made him want to touch her more. Isaac brought up his other hand, which had been resting on the floor, to caress her other br*ast. His hands, kneading her br*asts and stirring her excitement, caused Helena to lift her hips. Unfortunately, her movements brushed against Isaac’s groin, eliciting a low groan from him.

“Ahh…”

The last remnants of Isaac’s faith urged him to stop here, but his lustful desires wanted to pin her beneath him and ravage her roughly, just as he had in his dreams. When his hands paused their caresses, Helena lowered herself, pressing her chest against his face.

“Suckle me.”

Isaac could not refuse such a seductive command. Lust trampled over his faith, compelling him to take her rosy peak into his mouth. Hardened by his attentions, the peak was mercilessly teased within his hot mouth.

“Ahh—ha. It feels… good.”

Her voice, wet with desire, spurred him to suck harder, alternating with light nibbles. His hands pinched and tugged at the other peak, which he was not suckling. As his teasing grew more intense, the cleft of her hips, brushing against his groin, grew damp and began soaking through his trousers. Helena, feeling the heat emanating from beneath her, felt her lower abdomen tighten with anticipation.

“Ha, ahh… Isaac…”

Her voice, calling his name, resonated in the prayer room like a hymn of praise. To Isaac, her moans sounded more beautiful than any hymn. Blood surged to his groin, making him feel as though he might burst. The situation, more dreamlike than any dream, made him feel as though he was losing himself.

‘What am I… doing in this sacred chapel?’

But as if sensing his inner turmoil, Helena began grinding her core against his groin. His swelling flesh, growing larger with each motion, seemed as though it might burst through his trousers.

“Isaac… ah, Isaac…”

Her desperate calls for him made Isaac exhale heavily as he embraced her. Her cold yet soft chest seemed to absorb his warmth. He could have laid her down and entered her immediately, but his lingering rationality found the hard floor bothersome. More than anything, the goddess statue looming over them made him uneasy. The faint remnants of his faith left him feeling uncomfortable.

Turning his back to the goddess statue, Isaac kissed Helena lightly on her lips, the sound of their kisses echoing softly. However, the light kisses, unable to satisfy his desire, only made her more impatient. Unable to bear it any longer, Helena reached down, slipping her hand into his waistband. Grasping his hot, firm member, her hand moved up and down, stoking his lust.