Priscilla was too slow to react and couldn't even stop her body.

With the force of the impact, she suddenly fell into Victor's arms.

Feeling the warmth in her arms, Priscilla was momentarily lost in thought.

She hurriedly escaped from Victor's embrace, her head bowed, shy and embarrassed.

"I'm...I'm sorry."

However, even though it had left Viktor's grasp, the warmth in his palm remained.

Priscilla was a little curious, so she lowered her head and secretly opened her palm.

Golden ears of wheat lie quietly in the palm of my hand.

It still exudes a warm glow.

This is Mr. Victor's...

At that moment, she couldn't help but feel flustered.

I wanted to raise my head, to return this sacred object to Mr. Victor.

But Victor's voice was already above her head:

“Prayers will never get anything done, Priscilla.”

"You must learn to stand up on your own, just like you did today, even without me."

Ultimately, Priscilla did not raise her head upon hearing Viktor's words.

She lowered her head dejectedly, her words filled with helplessness and despair:

"I'm sorry, Master..."

"I can't stand up."

She carries the pain of her parents' deaths and the suffering of being rejected by humans as a vampire.

These things are making Priscilla act just as she said.

She will never be able to stand up again.

She didn't want to be a vampire who hurts people; she only wanted a happy family.

But she had no choice in any of this, so Priscilla could only pray.

She would kneel here forever to forgive her father for sins he had never committed.

Even so, those people will not forgive her.

Because she is Laureen's offspring, she is a vampire who will harm others.

So she has to kneel here forever.

Only vampires who kneel will not harm others.

This is what everyone wants.

Suddenly, a warm hand gently rested on her head.

Only Victor's voice echoed in her ears.

"From now on, you will never have to kneel again."

"From this day forward, Clevner will be your new surname."

Priscilla was stunned and opened her eyes.

The hand above her head was clearly light, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, making Priscilla afraid to look up.

She didn't want to look up and find that everything in front of her was a lie.

However, the moment the next sentence was uttered, Priscilla could no longer bear her near-collapse.

"This is what I promised your father, and I should do it."

The glistening tears in her eyes could no longer be held back and silently slid down her cheeks.

That was the last protection her father left her after his passing.

Golden sunlight descended through the skylight.

The light fell on the falling tears, reflecting a gentle halo.

It draped over the statue, like a sacred garment.

Only in the quiet church could one hear the devout prayers of the nuns.

And then there were Priscilla's final words, spoken to who-knows-who.

"Father."