Even with a strong sense of crisis, when the sky falls, it’s always the tall ones who hold it up. Although she was an aberration, contrary to humanity, she hid her identity well; from beginning to end, only Otis knew who she really was.
What could a minor Bloodkin possibly do?
What could a young girl possibly do?
However… it was said that witches were women who succumbed to the temptation of long life and everlasting youth, thus falling from grace. They were lured by either evil gods or demons from the depths of hell, and like other aberrations, most of them walked the path known as the [Monster] sequence.
Hill suddenly recalled something: her level was about to reach level 10. After advancing to Sequence I of the [Apprentice] path, could she also, as a Bloodkin, simultaneously advance to Sequence I of the [Monster] path?
If that were possible, as a dual-sequence holder, she would surely possess combat power far beyond that of ordinary people. Of course, she had no wish to stir up trouble, nor did she want to become this world’s Batman. From start to finish, she believed strength was the best means of self-preservation. Relying on others or hiding one’s identity endlessly—these were not solutions for the long term.
Even the tallest tree will one day fall.
Even the most mysterious identity will one day be exposed.
Hill felt it was time for her to learn more about the [Monster] path.
Entering the mansion, Hill sat in the parlor for a while and chatted with Otis.
Young girls always have endless things to talk about. Hill might have seemed a bit dull, but Otis was a true lady, well-received in high society. Those idle heiresses, despite their lives of luxury and worry-free days, seemed never to run out of complaints and grievances.
As their close confidante, Otis wasn’t really supposed to share these matters with others. But whenever she sat with Hill, she couldn’t help but want to confide more and more to this friend. Perhaps even she wouldn’t admit it, but the truth was she just wanted to attract more of Hill’s attention through these stories.
Just like now, Otis glanced at the brown-haired girl sitting close beside her. No matter when, Hill always had a look that seemed willing to listen, and her reactions were never bored. Though a bit naïve, Otis greatly enjoyed this process.
Confiding in one’s own kind felt far better than confiding in those self-important, yet utterly useless heiresses.
Unknowingly, the maid had already brought up the warmed milk.
Ever since Hill arrived, milk had become an extremely popular item in this mansion. What used to be served only at breakfast now also appeared at midday communion and at night as a “late-night snack.”
Otis aside, she used to be indifferent toward milk, since in this era, poorly processed milk always had a fishy odor, one that not everyone could tolerate. Some self-important nobles even drank freshly squeezed raw milk in one gulp, considering it a symbol of bravery.
Obviously, such nobles never included the women.
Noblewomen’s tastes were generally mild, and their stomachs delicate. Drinking that stuff would leave them vomiting and with diarrhea. Being so used to comfort, why would they seek discomfort?
Otis’s newfound fondness for milk had a simple reason—this was the only chance for her to enjoy the same food as her fellow kind, Hill.
She couldn’t stomach blood, but surely she could swallow hot milk, right?
Moreover, some learned magicians had already proven that milk was indeed rich in nutrients, especially beneficial for noblewomen hoping to keep their youthful beauty forever. Milk was very good for their skin. Yet, it seemed a significant number of people misunderstood this, using hot milk as bathwater rather than drinking it.
Never mind how wasteful that was; there were even more extravagant practices among the nobles.
Yet, in the past, Lady Anna always scoffed at such behaviors. For some reason, lately she too had grown fond of drinking milk, just like her daughter.
Hill took the warm crystal cup from the maid’s hand, and the delicate feeling beneath her fingers made her sigh: Nobles sure know how to enjoy life!
Just this cup alone was worth between 3 and 5 gold coins.
After all, the whole cup was carved from a special crystal mineral, not that glass stuff that looked fancy but was actually cheap. Now, even ordinary commoners with a bit of spare money could buy glassware, all thanks to the magician who’d publicly released glassmaking techniques for free.
To this day, many nobles still gnashed their teeth at that magician. They thought teaching lowborn peasants such refined crafts was a waste of good things. Of course, what really mattered was the loss in profits.
Otis also picked up a crystal cup, and after exchanging glances with Hill, they tasted their drinks together.
Hill’s face showed utter enjoyment, her eyes brimming with satisfaction and longing. Otis, on the other hand, was already used to this taste—nothing special about it—but because she was sharing a drink with her friend, she discovered a subtle new flavor within. Just like the way she once yearned for the adventures in tales, where like-minded companions drank together in a tavern.
Sadly, though Otis longed for this, it was precisely the kind of place Lady Anna had strictly forbidden her to visit.
Never mind being a noble heiress, no woman should be wandering such places. Drunkards, alcoholics—no god could guarantee what they’d do in their stupor. The kingdom had long been aware of the dangers and issued several decrees about alcohol, with especially severe punishments for crimes committed while drunk.
Yet such incidents still occurred constantly. Lady Anna was absolutely right to forbid her.
Otis drank her milk gracefully and slowly. If you ignored the milky liquid in her cup, you’d think this young lady was sampling a fine vintage from a famous cellar.
In both manners and bearing, this beautiful young lady was flawless.
However, even though Hill tried hard to restrain herself, she still finished two whole cups of fresh hot milk in the shortest time possible. Thankfully, after setting down her crystal cup, she managed not to let out a milky burp—that would have been terribly rude while visiting someone else’s home.
Otis asked worriedly, “Hill, you drank so much milk at once. Won’t you have no room for dinner later?”
Hill tilted her head curiously, “Isn’t that a good thing?”
The nutrients in milk could to some extent substitute for blood. Hill had just downed two big cups—enough for a whole day’s needs.
Is that really a good thing?
Of course Otis knew she had to care for her body; losing too much blood wasn’t good for a growing girl like her.
But…
Could milk really be tastier than my blood?
This, Otis certainly didn’t say out loud, especially with the maid present.
Hill being Bloodkin was a secret between the two of them—a secret that belonged only to them!
“Dearest Miss Otis, though it may sound boastful, my appetite is hardly ordinary, so you really don’t need to worry.”
Having promised herself to properly savor the heiress’s blood today, Hill would not break her word.
Those two glasses of milk just now were merely appetizers. The sweet-scented young girl beside her was the true main course.
Some time later, as the maids began tidying up, Hill and Otis went upstairs and naturally entered Otis’s boudoir.
As soon as the door closed, Otis felt a gentle yet irresistible force at her back, pushing her to the floor.
With the soft carpet underneath, there was no need to worry about injury or catching cold.
The pretty, adorable girl lay on the rug, her face showing no trace of fear—instead, she looked full of eager delight.
And before her, an evil vampire bared her fangs, grinning wickedly as she stepped closer and closer.
“Hill!”
Otis couldn’t help but call out, as if every cell in her body was calling that name in unison.
Hill●█▀█▄Hill●█▀█▄Hill●█▀█▄Hill●█▀█▄Hill●█▀█▄…ah!
Hurry and enjoy me!
The noble girl named Otis Montbatten had now fallen into a pit she could never climb out of—and she was loving every moment of it.
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