Chapter 38: Herbert in the Eyes of the Monks (Please Follow!)

Under Father Kaplan’s supervision, the farce began swiftly and ended just as quickly.

In just over ten minutes, the two monks who had falsely accused Herbert were taken away by attendants to the Confession Pool.

There, they would be monitored for twelve straight hours until they confessed every sin.

Merely this alone was enough to break them, let alone the interrogation that followed—that was the true punishment.

Not only physical torment, but spiritual destruction… oh, the Chengjie nuns of the Tribunal preferred to call this act “baptism.”

When the farce ended, Herbert remained in the great hall.

He held his back straight, calmly meeting the varied gazes of the surrounding monks.

Herbert’s inner mind was far from as calm as his face.

This time, he had successfully cleared his name and left a deep impression on others.

But next time?

Could he still luck out by talking his way out?

Herbert sighed silently in his heart:

“Strength… still just strength…”

If he had sufficient strength, they would never dare confront him so easily—there’d be no need for further thought.

If he had sufficient strength, he wouldn’t have come to the Tribunal seeking protection in the first place.

“I must find a way to increase my strength—at least enough to protect myself.”

Strengthening his power was urgent; Herbert had to find a way to conquer the third zone, the Dark Prison, and seize an opportunity to speak with the Dark Elf Archmage.

Friend, if you want to isolate yourself, fine—don’t want to see me? Don’t.

But don’t block me from entering the next zone!

Let. Me. Through!

Herbert was so eager to enter the fourth zone of the Alien Prison because it contained the exact terrain environment he needed most right now.

Fourth Zone—Lava Hell.

In that fiery, scorching region, he could rapidly enhance his physical strength through the Dragon King’s legacy.

“How can I drag her out of her cave? Food baiting probably won’t work—who knows what Dark Elves even like to eat…”

As Herbert pondered, he instinctively reached to rub his chin, but lifting his left hand tugged at the palm muscles, reopening the wound that hadn’t fully scabbed over.

Hss.

He slightly raised his brow, forcibly suppressing the urge to hiss.

At that moment, a single drop of blood, shimmering with crystalline luster, slipped from his hanging palm and fell to the ground.

Hss—

The moment the blood touched the floor, the Yuanben black surface of the great hall changed.

Centered on that drop of blood, a one-meter-wide circle of light appeared, revealing intricate, vivid, and ornate patterns etched into the ground.

!!!

“Huh? Did he use holy water?”

“What?”

The Tribunal’s monks were not unfamiliar with this phenomenon—they had seen it every month during rituals when holy water was used to cleanse the floor.

Only under the radiance of Holy Light did the hall reveal its true form.

“That’s… holy blood?”

Kaplan also noticed this. She knew more than the others; her brow twitched slightly as she asked Herbert: “Herbert, did you deliberately create holy blood today?”

“Yes.”

Herbert nodded calmly, picking up scraps of cloth to re-bandage his palm: “I was attacked by prisoners in the Alien Prison and was forced to use holy blood for self-defense.”

He spoke with utter calmness, describing his harrowing experience in the most mundane tone—as if it hadn’t been particularly difficult or dangerous.

Just a starving, nearly desiccated waste of a vampire.

Not worth mentioning!

Herbert didn’t care, but the others didn’t know the truth.

Instantly, everyone cast Jingwei glances toward Herbert.

In the eyes of other monks, prisoners confined in the Alien Prison were all terrifyingly powerful and extremely dangerous beings.

Yet Herbert, despite suffering injuries, had escaped from them!

This was truly unbelievable.

Kaplan knew more about the inner workings—she knew that as long as the warden didn’t act recklessly, prisoners rarely suffered physical harm beyond spiritual damage.

She frowned slightly, puzzled: “Why didn’t you take holy water from the Holy Chapel?”

Outside, holy water was a source of income for the Church, sold to adventurers—but within the monastery, it was the cheapest thing imaginable.

Everyone could take it freely; it was even used in rituals for cleansing. It was no more precious than plain water.

“I could have used it before?”

Herbert smiled, shrugged, and said casually, as if it didn’t matter: “No one ever told me that. I didn’t know if I had the right to take it.”

“… ”

The monks fell silent again. This time, their gazes toward Herbert held new sympathy and admiration.

No one was foolish—they all understood the implication behind Herbert’s words: he had been targeted.

If he couldn’t even use holy water, what else could he access?

Combined with the earlier scene, Herbert’s image among the monks gradually sharpened.

He was like a proud swan.

Even when suspected, he refused to explain himself—only striking back when forced.

Excluded by others, he refused to bow, preferring to hurt himself, break his wings, and make holy blood from his own blood rather than “steal” it.

“… ”

Kaplan’s previously calm expression finally changed—faint anger flickered in her eyes. She turned to a nun who had lowered her head, and understood the reason.

Among the monks, some held malice toward Herbert due to their past identities.

Though no one openly acted against him, a portion of them had quietly ostracized Herbert.

Kaplan stared at the nun until her shoulders began to tremble, then turned away.

She didn’t confront her on the spot. Instead, she descended from the dais and walked to Herbert’s side, gently taking his hand in hers.

Warm light glowed—Herbert felt unbearable itching in his palm, as if his flesh rapidly regenerated.

After a few breaths, when Kaplan unwound the blood-soaked cloth, the wound was completely healed.

The Chengjie nun released Herbert’s hand and lightly patted his shoulder, murmuring: “… From now on, you may take any resources you need from the Holy Chapel.”

“Thank you, Father Kaplan.”

Moments later, Herbert left the Tribunal alongside the other monks.

Earlier, he had quietly told Kaplan about the Grass Carp incident—but she gave no reaction.

Kaplan only said the Tribunal Head already knew, told him not to worry, and warned him not to spread it to others.

Kaplan’s unnaturally calm response left Herbert unsettled.

He didn’t know if the higher-ups were fishing or doing something else—and he didn’t care to find out.

Herbert only feared for his delicate flesh—he didn’t want a future “retained hook” scandal.

After much thought, Herbert decided to save himself.

That night, for his own safety, Herbert did not return obediently to his room.

Instead… he went somewhere else.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh? Can’t you tell?”

Herbert, dressed in a nightgown, turned and smiled at Valentina, whose expression was odd: “I came to sleep with you!”

“… Huh?”

Valentina: ???

Thank you to PoorSen for the 10,000 reward!

Thank you to Phantom Pu and Ztyzyy for the donations!

…

I wrote a few hundred extra words, but didn’t force a break—let it be.

Please follow—yesterday I made it onto the new book chart, but fell off again this afternoon, ugh.

I’m having such a hard time—





(End of Chapter)