The carriage began to move slowly, heading toward the Otis family’s villa.
Inside the compartment, the stifling atmosphere persisted, as if a dark cloud loomed overhead.
Lady Anna continued to ask, “In your classroom, whose grades in magic class are the best… Or rather, in your observation, who is the most likely to become a mage in the future?”
Otis didn’t quite grasp her mother’s meaning for a moment.
Lady Anna, her expression emotionless, said, “If you don’t want to marry someone you dislike in the future, then while you’re still in school, find a suitable candidate to marry. Among the nobility, there are plenty of people who are hard to describe in words. I’m quite fortunate that your father, aside from his gambling and arrogance, has none of those disgusting habits. But I can’t guarantee that the person you are matched with in the future will be the same.”
Otis’s pupils contracted, and the image of Hill appeared in her mind—such a well-behaved, good child. If she were to marry her…
No, no! The kingdom’s laws do not allow two women to marry.
In truth, affairs between women are no longer considered anything new among the nobility. Lonely noble ladies often favor not the dirty, smelly stableboys, but rather the maids in the castle who understand them even better than their own husbands.
Even more intolerable, even disgusting, behaviors are everywhere. As long as they aren’t made public, everyone simply turns a blind eye, at most using them as topics for banquets or idle gossip after meals.
Otis’s voice became hoarse with nervousness. “Mother, the best grades in magic class in our classroom belong to two girls.”
“Girls?” Lady Anna’s tone was a bit disappointed. It would have been better if it were a boy.
She asked another question, “What are their backgrounds? How is your relationship with those two girls?”
“They…” Otis hesitated, her expression quite ashamed. “They are Helena Kritia and Hill Hamill. Both are very good friends of mine.”
Lady Anna mulled over the names. The name Kritia did not belong to the nobility, but was the owner of a well-known merchant guild in town—someone of considerable importance in Mossstone City, a frequent guest of many prominent families.
As for Hamill…
The tragedy that occurred in the town years ago was still a topic among many noble ladies. Everyone felt a chill thinking of it and pitied the girl who, though she survived by luck, had lost everything.
However, the fact that Hill is still alone to this day shows that the sympathy of those high and mighty people is completely useless.
Otis continued, “Hill was ranked first in the magic assessment this time, and was the only one to get an S grade. Teacher Inks holds her in very high regard and even asked her to visit his office after class.”
Hill Hamill…
Lady Anna savored this name repeatedly. She leaned lazily against the seat in the carriage, appearing to be deep in thought, like a still-wet oil painting. Yet her softly trembling lashes and the rise and fall of her chest made the character in this oil painting seem almost alive.
Her azure silk dress was smooth and flowing. The light outside the carriage rudely intruded, but was immediately subdued by the dignified posture of this noble lady. It became nothing more than a humble ornament, like a tiny boat sliding down the soft fabric of her skirt, finally coming to rest on the generous bosom of the lady, slumbering there like a child.
After the bell rang for the end of class, Inks, for once, didn’t immediately turn and leave the classroom. Instead, he waited on the lectern for Hill.
Hill packed up her things, said goodbye to her friends, and hurried after him.
To be honest, as the two walked down the corridor and entered a building behind the teaching hall, Hill felt a sense of tranquility. Traces of magic could be seen everywhere: on doors, walls, the floor, even on the paintings—everywhere, magic circles were inscribed.
Inks led her into one of the rooms—his office. There were many research results inside; even a random scrap of draft paper could be worth several gold coins. Not even the academy’s headmaster could come and go at will.
Inks had Hill sit down on a sofa. Hill sat upright, always worried that in such an environment, her identity as a bloodkin would be discovered by this Sequence II mage.
“How long can you meditate in a single session?” Inks suddenly asked her.
Hill answered honestly, “About two and a half hours, Teacher.”
Satisfaction grew on Inks’s face. “Two and a half hours? That’s very good for your age. You have been strictly following the mage’s code and only meditate once a day, right?”
Hill would never risk her own body and shook her head repeatedly. “Of course, I wouldn’t joke about my health, Teacher.”
“Frankly, your magical talent is outstanding. No one in the whole academy can surpass you. Because you produced an almost perfect answer in the magic assessment, I gave you an S grade.”
As Inks spoke, suddenly, the tea set on his desk began to move on its own. The teapot mysteriously filled itself with water and even boiled on its own. The tea canister on the shelf opened by itself, and the tea leaves, like well-trained soldiers, leaped into the pot.
Though no one was near the table, in a moment, a cup of tea was offered to Hill.
“Drink.” Inks said, “This is a special blend from the Elven Empire. The pointy-eared ones with magical talent to be envied all love to drink it. For a full mage like me, it only relieves mental fatigue and increases focus. But for you, before advancing in sequence, it will also slightly increase your spiritual power.”
Hearing this, Hill didn’t bother with noble etiquette or how hot the tea was. She tipped her head back and drank it all in one go.
Her bloodkin body was strong enough, so she wasn’t afraid of a little heat. As the tea slid down, she saw her panel increase by two experience points!
Good stuff, really good stuff!
Hill’s eyes sparkled as brightly as two beautiful red rubies, seemingly able to draw the attention of others without them realizing. Even Inks couldn’t help but praise, “Child, you have beautiful eyes.”
Cough, cough, cough!
Hill had been savoring the joy of a free power-up, but after hearing that, she nearly choked on her tea.
If you knew these eyes actually belonged to a bloodkin, would you take back your compliment?
Sigh! Most likely, this Sequence II mage would instantly use a fire spell to execute her on the spot as a wretched vampire in place of the church.
“I only came here to teach because of the kingdom’s decree. I wanted to continue my studies in the capital, but His Majesty ordered all mages like me—those whose lifespans are almost up and who have no chance to advance in sequence—to go teach at public magic academies.”
Inks’s aged voice brought up his own story. He looked at Hill, and in his eyes, a glimmer of hope seemed to shine.
He reached out his hand. A book, already prepared on the desk, floated into the air and landed steadily in Hill’s lap.
“I won’t beat around the bush anymore; you have to get home before dark. Although you’re talented, you’re not yet qualified to be my disciple. These are handwritten notes from when I was young. Take them home and see what you can learn—it all depends on your own ability. In a month, I’ll give you a solo assessment. If you pass…”
Inks paused, then said, “Then I’ll break with precedent and accept you as my disciple.”
To become the disciple of a Sequence II mage?
After digesting Inks’s words, Hill’s heart filled with wild joy.
Her greatest disadvantage right now was not being able to access more magic knowledge—after all, this was just a rural town. As Inks just said, he had come here to teach only on the king’s order and was unlikely to teach those students who had nothing to do with him everything he knew.
But if she could become his disciple, things would be completely different!
With that promise, Hill left elated, losing herself in beautiful visions of the future. Inks, watching her youthful, energetic figure, did not show relief in his eyes.
He walked to the mirror in his office and looked at his graying hair and beard, his face full of wrinkles and spots, and his eyes that were growing ever more turbid and dull… This old, ugly shell—he truly hated it, hated it, hated it!
Because of this, the royal family had decided he could go no further.
Because of this, he was assigned to this godforsaken place to teach magic to these ignorant noble brats!
Inks thought of Hill, who had just left, her rose-colored eyes lingering in his memory.
“A child of average talent suddenly developing such a deep understanding of magic…” he muttered, the longing and frenzy in his voice laid bare, “What on earth happened to you? Could it be… that you’ve truly awakened the bloodline of a high-sequence mage?”
If that’s the case…
“What a waste!”
The faint sigh never left the room. All the ugliness bred in darkness faded without a trace within the magic circle on the door.
Here is a concept sketch of Lady Anna, meow!