BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 154

The woman had brown curls, her skin as white as milk. He was in his mid-thirties. Her dark black evening dress was covered in Scholomance's signature brown wool robe.

"My name is Jeane de Chantall" he said firmly in a clear voice. His eyes looked firmly at the three men who locked him up like iron pillars. "I'm a special guest of Baron Hastings, so you better not mess around."

Three men around him—who wore brown monk robes—just laughed softly. It was not a friendly laugh.

"De Chantall," said one of the most perlente men standing right in front of Lady Chantall's face, his robe only he wore his neck and his hood he did not even put on, made her face thin and her eyes clear. "Scottish Nobles?"

Lady Chantall nodded, pleased that someone knew her name and origin. His green bead stared around vigilantly.

"But here is Scholomance" said another man. "There's no class here. The title means nothing. You, me, we're the same. We're just ordinary men and women."

The way the man licked his lips was enough to make Lady Chantall know what they wanted. The alarm sign in his head screamed loudly, telling him to run. He took two steps back, hit his back against the wall, stopped him.

When he turned to look around, someone grabbed his wrist, pulled him down. Lady Chantall's knee hit the floor so hard that it almost squealed. He tried to get up, but the hands touched his shoulder, pushing him down. Stubborn Lady Chantall lifts her face, putting all her weight on her toes. His shoes had gone out of nowhere, but at least they would not be able to make his knees touch the floor again.

"You can't make me kneel!" his wrath in the language of the Scots, his mother tongue, while staring sternly at the faces twisted like the expression of vultures.

"What's he talking about?" ask the person who holds his shoulder.

The others shook their heads. One of them pulled off Lady Chantall's white robe and slipped a cold blade between her cleavage. In one powerful pull, the knife tore through Lady Chantall's expensive underwear and evening gown, freeing her milky-white skin from the corset.

"As I thought, Scholomance is just a rotten perverted community!" Lady Chantall gritted her teeth in anger. Her cheeks were hot to her ears. His strength was drained to refrain from falling to his knees, making him unable to revolt. Her hair had broken until part of her hair had covered her face. "If I don't come back, everyone will know there's a problem in Bjork, you'll all be burned!"

"This woman is chirping in a strange language" said the clad perlente. He grabbed a golden cup on the offering table filled with a sweet-scented red liquid, thrusting it forcefully into the tightly clenched red lips of Lady Chantall. "Drink this, sweetie. You'll feel better afterwards, and your chirping will probably sound even sweeter."

Someone stepped into their midst and snatched the cup.

Both Lady Chantall and the three men in the room only watched with their mouths open how the contents of the cup were swallowed without rest, not even a single drop spilled on the white shell.

Taking advantage of their shock, Lady Chantall stepped on the floor to get up, then with an angry cry slammed her forehead hard into the nose of the man on the right. It hurts. Lady Chantall complained, rubbing her forehead which was exposed to the blood of the opponent's nosebleed. He turned his head to smash his forehead at the other man, but the man had already choked on his own blood, with the short sword piercing through the heart.

The honorable woman did not scream. The coldness spread throughout Lady Chantall's body, making her freeze. But he could not help but screech when the sword that struck the man's body was lifted. Blood spurting. All Lady Chantall could see was a blood-soaked metallic flash reflecting the light of the flames. Then the weapon stabbed through it. He could hear the sound of blood and smell the smell.

The body behind her fell with a light thump, blowing the wind into Lady Chantall's bare heel, leaving her unmoved. His legs were squeezing until he was a little dazed.

However the man in front of her, who was still holding the golden cup, immediately restrained Lady Chantall's arm and straightened it. "You say nothing can bring you to your knees, right? Keep your back up."

Lady Chantall's eyes narrowed. He pulled his torn clothes on his chest until he docked. "So you're here, Argent?"

"Not willingly," the man spoke in fluent Scotty language. "But you obviously know what's going on here."

"I'm looking for you!" sahut Lady Chantall was anxious, knowing Marco deliberately spoke in the language of Scots to mocking him who had just been let loose screaming in his native language. "Do you know what's going on out there? Just two days you're gone, but everyone made the alliance secretly! Everyone wants to be the leader to shift you, many are ready to switch positions immediately while you play here!"

"I look like I'm playing around?"

Before Lady Chantall could respond, the sound of someone's screams cut through. The screams were heard from the front door.

The two turned their heads together, only to find a blackish creature with peyot cheeks blocking the door. Human hands were sticking out of his back, reaching out and gripping the air.

Marco swears. He pulled the handle of the sword from the corpse on the floor, but Lady Chantall was faster. She pulled a small glass bottle from behind her dress on her thigh, then splashed the contents on the creature.

Sunt mala quae libas! Ipse venena bibas!"

Marco knew enough Latin to know that the woman was praying in that language. Vade retro satana, which means get rid of you demons.

The strange creature in the doorway screamed again, twisted strangely and twisted, then dragged its body backwards while shrieking. The pecunya echo sounded more distant.

"Oh," said Marco in amazement. That's all he can say.

Lady Chantall was still clutching the front of her dress torn to shreds in the chest, her breathing gasping with loose tension. His head was dizzy facing the successive events he had just experienced.

Marco picked up the woman's wool robe, which lay on the floor near the corpse, then put it on Lady Chantall respectfully. "I just found out you're an exorcist."

Lady Chantall shakes. "Of course not. I got that holy water from a Jesuit. I thought the effect would be more bum or blar like dynamite, but it could only be like that. Damn, Argent! It's all because of you!" grumbling with a trembling voice, he tightened the robe, desperately turning his eyes away from the body that had just been lying on the floor.

The smell of rotten urine and feces mixed with blood scattered throughout the room. Chantall's family has been helping out in the publications, managing the media. He realized he should not go down directly and act like this.

He turned his head, looking at Marco who was looking out of the room to ascertain the situation. "Thank you" he said. "I let my guard down and followed these guys because they said they knew where you were or who you were. After I thought again, they were clearly lying. The wine you drank earlier .. There's something in it, right? I smell a sickening sweet smell, it's not pure wine."

Marco nodded. "There's the dope. It doesn't affect me, I'm immune." He walked into the room, ransacking corpses in search of weapons, but in the end had to settle for the short sword he had used before. "You still have that magic water?"

"Holy water," corrects Lady Chantall. "still. There are two more bottles."

"good. You're missing the exit, aren't you? You're very calm looking at the creature, which means you know a lot of things. As we walk, tell me everything you know."

Lady Chantall nodded. "I got a lot of info these two days, I desperately spent a lot of money on your behalf. That thing was called a golem!"

They had only come out a few steps when they came across six young monk-robed youths who ran over with curious faces.

One of them sees Marco and yells to stop the other. "That's the victim!"

Marco clucked, then ran. Lady Chantall plausibly plopped to the floor and cried, feigning fear and seeking refuge from the monks.

Marco did not mind. The woman knew that she would only interfere if they joined.

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ps: if anyone is wondering why your likes and comments are missing in Notes 3: Trivia, there is a system error in MangaToon. The chapter was lost from view. Time raised again the same MangaToon Team, likes and comments you do not get to the chapter again 🥺🥺 I am sad. But your comments are still there if you look at the menu all comments. Just don't stick in that chapter.