If Alexander had to believe in any higher power, it would only be money and strength.
God?
What was that, really?
If such a being existed, why was the world filled with so much suffering?
He had little patience for faith that promised salvation through pain.
He stepped out of the secret room.
The young woman waiting outside peeked in and let out a sharp scream at the bloody scene.
Alexander quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
“The priest was possessed by a demon. I helped expel it. Go find a doctor to stop the bleeding.”
The woman’s panic eased as understanding dawned.
No wonder the priest had acted so strangely, he must have been possessed.
This stranger had saved her.
She looked at Alexander with grateful eyes.
“I’ll get the doctor right away!”
As she hurried off, Alexander turned to leave the church.
Whether the priest lived or not was no concern of his.
His next target was the village chief’s house.
The pieces pointed clearly in that direction, the werewolves were almost certainly connected to him.
Just as he was about to exit, his gaze fell on the large silver-plated cross standing behind the church.
“Can’t leave empty-handed,” he muttered.
He raised his hand and activated Sacrifice.
A flash of light consumed the massive cross.
In its place, a delicate silver cross necklace about ten centimeters long appeared in his palm, glowing with a faint sacred light before dimming.
The moment he touched it, a wave of discomfort rippled through his body, instinctive repulsion from the werewolf bloodline within him.
Silver had a powerful suppressing effect on such creatures.
While his version of the bloodline was different and more resilient, the necklace still caused mild irritation.
For a normal werewolf, it would likely be debilitating or fatal.
“It could be useful against darker things,” he noted, storing the necklace in his Personal Space.
As he left the church and headed toward the village chief’s residence, a figure suddenly rushed around the corner, head down, and collided straight into him.
Alexander barely felt the impact.
The woman, however, stumbled and fell onto the ground with a soft cry.
“Ouch!”
She rubbed her backside and slowly looked up.
Their eyes met, and Alexander’s gaze sharpened with interest.
She wore a striking red knee-length dress, a matching velvet hat, and a flowing red cloak.
At about 1.7 meters tall with snow-white skin and loose golden hair, her figure was breathtaking.
Her chest was full and prominent, easily 36D creating a deep, alluring cleavage accentuated by a black corset.
Her waist was slender and graceful, flaring into shapely hips, while her long, straight legs were clad in sheer black stockings that highlighted their perfect proportions.
Her face was exquisitely beautiful, with full red lips that blended innocence and seduction.
Here, in a rundown medieval-style village, she was stunning.
“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically as she got to her feet.
“I was in a hurry to visit my sick grandmother and didn’t see you.”
“Grandmother?” Alexander raised an eyebrow.
“She lives alone in the forest,” the woman explained quickly.
“I need to get there soon. It’s too dangerous to travel alone at night.”
Alexander’s expression turned thoughtful.
A sick grandmother in the woods, a beautiful young woman rushing off alone despite the werewolf threat, it was all a bit too convenient.
He had only just arrived, and now this classic setup presented itself.
He decided to play along.
If someone was laying a trap, the best way to uncover it was to step inside.
“It’s too dangerous for you to go alone,” he said.
“I’ll accompany you. By the way, what’s your name?”
“My name is Ruby,” she replied with a small smile.
“Everyone just calls me Little Red Riding Hood.”
Little Red Riding Hood?
Alexander looked at the curvaceous, long-legged beauty in black stockings before him and felt a moment of disbelief.
There was nothing “little” about her.