Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 571: I Wear My True Face

Cassius stood there for a few long seconds, crimson eyes gleaming in the light, while Joy and Carmela remained frozen, both kneeling on the ground.

The suffocating aura around them was like an invisible mountain pressing against their chests—

—until, suddenly, it vanished.

The air felt lighter. The walls no longer hummed.

They both gasped at once, the sound echoing through the silence.

Sweat dripped down their temples, their breaths ragged, their hearts pounding in uneven rhythm.

Finally—finally—they could breathe again.

Cassius also let them go. His hands relaxed, his shoulders lowering slightly as the crimson glow faded completely from his eyes.

It was as if the terrifying executioner from a moment ago had never existed.

He drew in a slow breath and let it out.

"Good grief..." He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck like someone who had just finished heavy labor.

Then, looking at both women, his expression softened into one of genuine apology.

"Sorry for that, ladies." He said calmly. "I didn’t want to do anything so cruel or barbaric. But if I hadn’t stopped you immediately, the two of you would’ve probably destroyed my mansion within seconds."

He sighed, glancing around at the cracked tiles and the wall where Joy’s holy axe was still buried.

"And that would’ve been very inconvenient for me."

Joy and Carmela stared up at him in disbelief.

Just moments ago, he’d looked like a demon—the very embodiment of destruction and judgment combined.

And now...he looked like a nobleman apologizing for scolding two children.

Cassius continued, his tone gentle, almost regretful.

"And if that happened, the rest of the sisters would wake up, and this little misunderstanding would turn into a full-blown holy crusade in my living room. I really didn’t want that kind of mess tomorrow morning."

He gave a small chuckle.

"So...I had to stop it before it got out of hand. I hope I didn’t hurt either of you."

Hearing this, both women stared at him, confused, their thoughts spinning.

Which one was the real Cassius Holyfield?

The terrifying being who could crush them with a glance.

Or this mild-mannered man who smiled so kindly it almost felt disarming?

Cassius sighed again and clapped his hands.

"Anyway." He said, in a casual tone. "I hope neither of you plan on lunging at each other again. You should know by now it’s pointless. No matter what either of you try, I’ll stop it before you blink."

He folded his arms and looked at them with the faintest grin.

"So, I’d appreciate it if both of you could behave yourselves. Be good girls, alright? No more clawing or biting each other like cats and dogs."

"Just peace and quiet for tonight?"

Both Carmela and Joy stiffened, visibly annoyed at being talked to like that.

But neither of them dared respond.

They knew it was useless. Even the urge to resist felt drained from their limbs.

Instead, they turned their gazes away in silence.

Cassius chuckled, clearly pleased. "Good. It’s nice to see you’re both so understanding."

He then glanced down at their kneeling forms.

"Though, this doesn’t seem right. Having two ladies kneel before me feels...awkward, honestly." He gestured to the furniture nearby. "So, why don’t you both sit on the sofas instead? I’d prefer a proper conversation rather than talking to you on the floor."

Reluctantly, they tried to stand as they also hated being on the ground while he was looking down on them—but their legs trembled, refusing to cooperate.

The aftershock of Cassius’s aura had left them weak and unsteady.

Cassius blinked, then winced.

"Ah...sorry. That was probably my fault."

Before either could protest, he moved and reached out and grasped each woman by the arm—Joy on his left, Carmela on his right—and lifted them effortlessly.

"Wha—!" Joy gasped, trying to pull back, but before she could even scold him, he had already placed her gently on a cushioned chair at the side.

Carmela soon followed, finding herself deposited on another seat opposite.

Cassius then dropped himself lazily onto the sofa between them, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, that familiar grin returning to his face.

"Now." He said lightly. "Let’s have a proper conversation, shall we?"

"No weapons, no theatrics—just talking. I think that’d be much better, especially since everyone else is asleep. I don’t want to wake anyone up."

Joy’s glare was sharp enough to cut glass.

"Why should I speak to you?" She demanded. "I’d rather take both your heads off than waste my breath. Even if you torture me, you won’t get a word."

Cassius regarded her for a moment—and then, he laughed softly.

"You know." He said. "I actually believe you. You’re fierce, stubborn, and incredibly righteous. The kind of woman who’d rather die than yield."

"But..." He added, voice dropping to a smooth whisper. "What if I go over to the other room right now?"

Joy froze, while Cassius’s smile didn’t fade as he nodded toward the hallway.

"You know...the room where all your sisters are sleeping."

His tone turned almost teasingly casual.

"What if I went in there and brought all of their heads back here? You know, as souvenirs."

Joy’s breath caught, her blood turning cold.

"And maybe then." Cassius tilted his head, eyes half-lidded. "You’d start talking, wouldn’t you?"

"You wouldn’t dare." Joy said through clenched teeth, her holy aura flickering faintly around her.

Cassius chuckled—not cruelly, but in a way that made her even more uneasy.

"Why wouldn’t I? You keep calling me a devil, don’t you? So, as the devil you’ve named me, wouldn’t it make sense for me to act the part?"

He stood up slowly, brushing off his coat.

"I could even bring you one head first. Just for demonstration."

That was enough.

"Stop!" Joy shouted suddenly, her composure cracking. "Don’t touch them. Don’t hurt them. I’ll speak."

Cassius stopped mid-step and turned, his eyes amused. "That’s better."

He sat back down in his seat like nothing had happened.

"I appreciate the cooperation." He said with a smile.

Then he turned to Carmela. "And what about you, my lovely vampire? Do you plan on keeping silent too?"

Carmela folded her arms, her tone sharp but steady.

"No. I have no problem talking." She said. "In fact, I have plenty to say to the so-called Saintess of Judgment." Her crimson eyes flicked to Joy with open disdain. "It’s not every day I get to speak directly to the leader of the Church that massacred my people."

Joy glared back at her with equal venom.

But Cassius simply smiled pleasantly.

"Excellent. I’m glad we can all be civil."

"Now then." He began, looking at Joy with a curious expression. "I have just one question to start with."

He gestured between the two women.

"Why, exactly, did you attack Carmela the moment you saw her? I didn’t expect something like that from you, Joy."

Joy opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Carmela cut her off with a scoff.

"What kind of question is that?" She said bitterly.

"Of course she’d attack me! She’s from the Church, isn’t she? Every single one of them despises vampires."

"They look at us and see demons, monsters—creatures born from sin. To her, killing me isn’t a crime; it’s righteousness."

She leaned back slightly, her eyes narrowing.

"It’s like asking why a wolf would feast on a lamb. It’s in their nature. It’s in their filthy blood."

Her tone dripped with scorn as she glared at Joy, who returned the look with equal fire.

Meanwhile, Cassius tilted his head slightly, thinking over Carmela’s words before responding in a calm, reflective tone.

"I’ll admit." He began. "You’re not entirely wrong. The Church has a very long, very ugly history when it comes to vampires."

His gaze turned briefly toward Joy, then back to Carmela.

"Even though they try to bury it now—pretend it’s some forgotten relic of their past—anyone who looks close enough can see the truth. The way they avoid the topic, the way they flinch at even the mention of your kind, it’s obvious there’s guilt there."

"Old blood doesn’t wash off that easily. So yes, I believe you when you say they hate vampires. And I agree, most of them probably still do."

He paused, leaning back slightly, his tone turning gentle as he looked at Joy.

"But...I don’t think Joy over there fits into that mold."

Carmela frowned instantly, her arms crossing.

Cassius went on.

"From what I’ve read about her and from what people in the capital say, she isn’t the kind of woman who cares about race or rank, or even what world someone belongs to."

"She doesn’t see bloodlines, she only sees deeds."

"Whether you’re noble or peasant, elf or demon, human or vampire—none of that matters to her. All she seems to care about is whether you’re guilty or not. Whether you’ve done evil."

He smiled faintly, almost teasing.

"She’s very simple that way. You could even call her simple-minded to an extent."

Joy’s eyes narrowed slightly at that last remark, but she didn’t interrupt.

Cassius turned back toward Carmela.

"That’s why I believe she has no prejudice against you, Carmela. Not because you’re a vampire. In fact." He tilted his head. "I doubt she cares about your race at all."

"Bullshit."

Carmela shot back immediately. Her voice dripped with hatred.

"You’re only saying that because you’ve heard a few pretty stories about her from the common folk—that she’s the ’Saintess of the Poor,’ ’the Protector of the Meek,’ ’the Light of the Fallen.’"

She spat the titles with open disdain.

"But I don’t buy a word of it. The Church is filled with liars. They all smile like saints, but behind their smiles they’re monsters. Hypocrites who hide behind blessings while committing atrocities in secret."

Cassius opened his mouth to respond—but before he could, Joy let out a short, low laugh. It wasn’t cheerful. It was sharp and cruel.

"Well." She said, smirking faintly. "For a vile creature of sin, you’re surprisingly perceptive."

Carmela blinked, caught off guard.

Joy went on, her tone suddenly colder, harder.

"You’re right. Most of the Church are hypocrites. They preach holiness while bathing in corruption. They claim virtue while feeding on greed and pride."

"I’ve seen their sins and you’re correct, they are far worse than you could imagine."

Carmela froze. The words she’d expected to argue against were now echoing her own thoughts.

But Joy wasn’t done. Her smirk vanished, replaced by a steady, righteous calm.

"But I..." She said firmly. "...am not one of them."

Her voice rose slightly—not in anger, but conviction.

"I carry one face—the face the Goddess gave me. The face of truth and judgment. I don’t hide behind masks, and I don’t need to lie."

Her eyes locked onto Carmela’s with a chilling focus.

"Which means I don’t need to lie when I say this: I didn’t attack you because you’re a vampire."

The words hit like a stone in water—rippling silence followed.

Carmela’s breath caught. Her first instinct was to call it a lie, to sneer and dismiss it—but something stopped her.

The look in Joy’s eyes. The fierce, unwavering conviction that left no room for deceit.

She realised in that moment that Joy really wasn’t lying.

That realization unsettled her.

"...Then why?"

She finally asked, her voice quieter now, suspicious and confused.

"If it wasn’t because I’m a vampire, why did you attack me?"