Chapter 23: Malachi’s Prophecy

Glad to meet me?

My mouth hung open, my expression a bit strange. Back at "Night Charm," the cold-faced Judge, Byron White, had nearly made it so I couldn't even remain a ghost, all because of a single sentence from this Queen: "I don't like her."

Stroking Snowy’s head, I closed my mouth in surprise and decided to remain silent. To be honest, calling such a little girl "Your Majesty" felt indescribably awkward.

"Alastor, the Grand Justice of the Sabbat has already led his followers into the Demon Realm. I fear the bloody battle of four hundred years ago is about to repeat itself. White has gone missing at such a time; you must remain vigilant." Her Majesty stopped looking at me and turned to instruct Alastor. Her voice, like a gurgling stream, was chilling to the soul—extremely shallow, extremely indifferent, and completely at odds with her pitiable appearance.

Rarely lacking the time for banter, Alastor took charge of the castle’s security. Seeing him look so uncharacteristically serious, I knew the opponent this time was no small matter.

Without Alastor’s noisy chatter in my ear, I wandered through the castle alone, only to find... I was lost.

Identical corridors, similar staircases—it was like a giant labyrinth. I looked left and right but couldn't find an exit.

"Snowy, do you know the way?" Looking down at the little snowball dozing in my arms, I asked for help.

The little snowball shook its head and continued its nap.

I grew angry and yanked its ear. "You’re supposed to share your master’s burdens! There is only one kind of animal that does nothing but eat and sleep. Do you want me to rename you Pig?!"

Snowy opened his eyes leisurely, shooting me a sideways glance that was as cold as ice. I shivered instinctively, feeling more and more that this gaze was familiar. Then, my embarrassment turned into rage... even a little fur ball could bully me...

Gripping its ears, I began to vent my frustration.

The little fur ball’s eyes widened, and it finally understood the principle of "bowing when under another's roof." It let me pull its ears until I was satisfied. As soon as I let go, it immediately made a "guji" sound and dove back into my arms, nuzzling me obediently.

Finally, I had vindicated myself...

I nodded with a great deal of "Ah Q" spirit, only to remember I was still lost. I took a discouraged step backward and unexpectedly leaned into an embrace as cold as my own.

Turning around, my eyes widened. It was Malachi!

"How are you here?"

"Long time no see." Malachi supported me with one hand while brushing back his slightly curly, wine-red hair with the other, smiling with immense charm. "Lost?"

I nodded in defeat. What a failure—failure as a human, failure as a ghost. I was actually a vampire who got lost. If word got out, people would laugh their teeth off.

Malachi smiled and took my hand, leading me through a series of left and right turns until we finally emerged from the maze-like area.

"Wow, there's actually a place like this in such an ancient castle?" I sat at the bar, watching Malachi mix drinks.

Malachi simply gave me a slight smile and lowered his head to continue his work.

"Aren't you waiting for someone at Night Charm? Why are you here?" I asked curiously.

"He... has gone mad." His slender hands paused for a moment, and Malachi spoke in a low voice.

"Mad? Who went mad?"

"Sol... he's gone mad. He wants to kill the Queen. It’s said that on the day Sol came to find me, Alastor set an ambush in the bar. Sol was ambushed, wounded, and disappeared. His coming to the Demon Realm this time is likely for a hateful revenge."

"It’s said?" I was surprised. Had Malachi not seen Sol?

"At that time... I was not at the bar."

Despite all his efforts, did Sol still fail to see Malachi?

Malachi is waiting for Sol, and Sol is searching for Malachi. No matter what kind of love and hate entangles them, how could they be denied even a single meeting?

Malachi elegantly took two transparent crystal glasses from a nearby shelf. He focused on slowly pouring a fragrant, blood-colored liquid from the shaker into the glasses—the color of blood, with a charming aroma.

It was "Flaming Fire."

Malachi slowly pushed one glass toward me, picked up the other with his other hand, and drained it in one gulp.

Under the lights, his neck was as beautiful as a piece of flawless porcelain.

"Sol... why can he appear in the daytime?" I asked a question that had puzzled me for a long time.

"Sol is a Daywalker among the Blood Kind, unbound by the sunlight." Stroking the wine glass, Malachi spoke. The way he looked at the glass was as if he were gazing at a lover; his eyes were deep and intoxicating, yet carried an unnamable loneliness.

A vampire unbound by sunlight? I see.

"I’ll teach you how to mix this 'Flaming Fire.' Do you want to learn?" Malachi suddenly looked up, smiling enchantingly.

I nodded eagerly. Living in this ancient castle felt like years; I was worried I would die of boredom.

Seeing my eagerness, Malachi laughed and turned to take several different glasses from the shelf. "This is a brandy glass, this is a cocktail glass, this is a shot glass..."

I jumped behind the bar and stood beside Malachi, looking left and right with curiosity.

"Pour 15ml of blue curaçao into the shot glass, 30ml of Sambuca into the brandy glass..." His long, pale hands demonstrated skillfully while he gave a detailed explanation.

I, however, stared up at Malachi in a daze. What a beautiful face, so lovely it didn't seem real.

"Don't daydream, pay attention." Malachi smiled and tapped my head.

"What's there to be afraid of? You’ll mix them for me to drink anyway. Besides, it's so boring in this castle, I'll learn slowly," I said with a smile.

"I'm afraid I won't have the chance to mix them for you in the future."

"What?" Startled, I frowned. "Didn't you say the gate to the human world is blocked by Sol? Where else can you go if not this castle?"

"I am going to die." Placing the glasses down gently, Malachi spoke casually.

I froze, then suddenly grabbed him. "What did you say?"

"I said, I am about to die," Malachi turned and said to me with a beaming smile.

I stared at him. With that smile on his face, he looked nothing like a person about to die.

Malachi sighed and gently stroked my head. "Rory, don't forget, I can perform divination."

My grip loosened slightly, and the little snowball rolled to the floor with a "gulu." I stared blankly at Malachi—this man who told me so lightheartedly that he was about to die.

"Georges Bataille said that feeling joy in the face of death belongs only to those who believe there is no afterworld," Malachi gently stroked my cheek. "Don't be sad for me. After hundreds of years of life and waiting, I have long been weary. For this endless life to have an end is a good thing."

"But... aren't you going to wait for Sol?" Thinking of the Sol who was so single-minded and stubborn about finding Malachi, I couldn't help but speak.

"No, I’m not waiting anymore." Malachi smiled faintly, his cool fingertips sliding across my cheek. "Silly child, you are the first member of the Blood Kind I’ve seen who can shed tears."

Seeing the moisture on his fingertips, I realized I was actually crying.

Such a hopeless search and wait...