The word 'immortal' comes from his ability to be reborn from ashes, while 'plague' is more fitting and more terrifying.
His soul fire can split infinitely.
Even for the undead, the Soul-Splitting Fire is almost equivalent to the pain of a human's soul being torn apart.
He seems to have no sense of pain; he can create countless clones whenever he wants without weakening his original body's power. Just thinking about it is terrifying.
No one wants to go against 'Pansy the Undying Plague', even in hell he will still find a chance to take revenge.
but......
Maggie glanced at the vibrant, healthy-looking Pansy before her, and her tension and worry subsided somewhat.
Pansy hasn't become an undead yet; he's just a cunning little kid who poses virtually no threat compared to the 'Undead Plague' that wreaks havoc later in the story.
Or rather, the fact that he could become the 'Undying Plague' in the future shows that his willpower and ambition are top-notch, making him far more suitable to be emperor than the third prince.
It can also prevent Pansy from dying prematurely, turning into a lich, and causing trouble for her later.
Thinking about it this way is killing two birds with one stone.
After Maggie finished her calculations, her expression relaxed, and she spoke calmly.
"I've got it."
Ironically, despite sharing the same royal surname 'Haren,' the eldest prince is now the Holy Knight Commander of the Temple of Light and the reincarnation of the God of Light, enjoying immense prestige.
Pansy, the youngest of the six princes, is transformed into a lich forgotten and abandoned by the gods, becoming irreconcilable with them and the biggest villain in the story.
"The Holy Maiden is indeed a good person!"
Sunlight streamed through the glass window, illuminating Pansy's smiling face with a healing glow, like that of an angel.
...
At midnight, with the bright moon high in the sky, it is also the time when nocturnal creatures come out to be active.
At the same time, the curse from the progenitor of vampires also erupts.
A bone-chilling cold surged beneath her skin, and the ancient, deep male voice echoed in her mind once more, carrying a faint sense of command and urging.
Those who do not act according to his will will suffer a terrible backlash.
Just like now.
Maggie sat motionless and expressionless in front of the dressing mirror, looking as if she were admiring her own beauty.
But if someone gets closer, they can see the twisted, serpentine veins on her forehead, her pale face, and the constant dripping sweat from her chin.
Despite feeling the excruciating pain, as if a thousand ants were gnawing at her heart and tearing out her marrow and bones, Maggie still let the moonlight fall on her.
She clutched the cross used to suppress and purify evil spirits tightly in her hand, using it to maintain her fading sanity.
Only moonlight can amplify the power of the curse, and only under moonlight can one have the opportunity to communicate directly with Ulysses, the progenitor of vampires.
Maggie was prepared to try again if this attempt failed.
Time passed second by second, and there was still no clear sign of that long, ethereal whisper, but her body began to give out.
She could feel that her limbs were almost as cold as ice, nearly indistinguishable from a cold-blooded vampire, and her torso was convulsing with pain.
Maggie closed her eyes and decided to grit her teeth and persevere a little longer.
just in case......
What if...?
If we can connect to Ulysses this time...
In the dead of night, the holy and noble Holy Maiden of Light sat on a stool, facing a mirror with her eyes closed. Moonlight shone on her, as if draping her in a thin silver veil. The scene in the mirror, which should have been extremely beautiful, flickered and distorted incessantly.
The room was completely dark. If you looked closely, you could see that the moonlight, the moment it touched Maggie, entered her body as if it had been absorbed by something.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but the sound, which seemed to be coming from a broken old radio, finally became crystal clear, as if the person was speaking right next to her ear.
"Humans... have found all my blood."
The moment she heard it clearly, Maggie opened her eyes wide, her eyes filled with almost manic excitement.
Besides causing pain and numbness, pain is more likely to cause a surge in adrenaline.
"Ulysses, how about we make a deal?"
Blood rushed to her head, and Maggie's face flushed with a sickly redness, yet her tone remained as calm as if she were at a negotiating table.
And that is indeed the case.
The difference in strength between her and the progenitor of vampires was too great. Even though he had been sealed away, a mere novice mage was nothing but trash in his eyes, and he completely disdained to pay him any attention.
To have an equal dialogue with him, one needs to be at least a mage. She's cursed, so she doesn't have time to wait that long.
She might not even have a chance to become a mage before being transformed into a blood servant puppet by Ulysses' curse.
A being one level lower than a Blood Servant.
So she had no choice but to take a huge gamble. She lacked everything, except herself.
She won her bet again today.
She established a connection with Ulysses through a curse, was blessed by moonlight, and maintained her sanity with the Holy Cross produced by the Temple of Light.
With a few more tries, there will eventually be a chance for Ulysses to hear her voice.
"Hmm? A novice mage? And a light-type one at that? There's also a demonic aura..."
Ulysses sensed Maggie's presence, and his deep voice held a hint of surprise, as if he had never seen such a bizarre combination before.
Any entity he can sense will have a high level of magic.
This was the first time he had ever seen a novice mage.
Add to that his innate talent for light magic, which is inherently incompatible with demons, and it's truly astonishing to anyone who sees it.
"Little magician, what kind of deal do you want with me?"
Perhaps because Ulysses was too bored, or perhaps because Maggie's situation was too special, he actually asked with great interest.
"Five drops of blood for dark magic talent."
Maggie calmly presented her chips, not believing that Ulysses would be unmoved.
The comic book plot flashed through her mind, and Maggie became more and more certain.
As the progenitor of vampires, Ulysses is an extremely important character in the later part of the comic book storyline.
But now, all the blood in his body has been drained, and he is suppressed beneath the 'Thorn Castle' like a dried-up corpse.
The so-called 'blood of the night' is actually the 'blood of the progenitor of vampires.' He needs to retrieve that blood to regain his power and break the seal.
His Deep Sea Mermaid Era had already been sealed away, and now the 'Blood of Night' has long been scattered throughout the continent of Coral. Some of it has even become plain and unadorned, losing its external power and no longer recognizable as 'Blood of Night'.
The so-called curse is his method of using 'night blood' as a medium to get people to help him find blood.
Unfortunately, all the identified 'Blood of the Night' are currently stored as prohibited items, and his opportunities are becoming increasingly scarce. As of today, he can hardly find anyone he can use.
Aside from her, who took the bait willingly.
"Yes, that's easy."
Ulysses agreed without hesitation, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice, like a cat teasing a mouse before catching it.
only......
If what she asked for was as simple as he thought, then she wouldn't be a qualified time traveler.
Maggie, a cold smile playing on her lips, slowly and deliberately revealed her true desires.
"What I mean is, to gain dark magic talent as a human, not as a vampire."
Even the lowest-ranking blood servant can possess dark magic talent. Ulysses doesn't think her requirements are that simple, does he?
The air fell silent, and the surrounding space seemed to distort and deform at that moment, signifying that Ulysses was truly enraged.
Maggie remained calm and waited for his answer.
After a long pause, he finally spoke in a deep voice, his tone carrying a terrifying sense of oppression, like the prelude to an impending storm.
"Little magician, do you know what you're saying?"
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