After magic class ended, the bell signaling the end of the school day rang half an hour later.
This meant it was time for the students to go home. There was no need to linger at the Academy unless absolutely necessary, since everyone had to be home before 7 p.m.
Hill didn’t mind either way. In the town, she had encountered those whom others called “outcasts,” but to her, they were “kindred spirits.” They were a bunch of fierce yet feeble sorts, unable to stand in the sunlight, only daring to venture out under the protection of the Night Goddess.
For them, mutual slaughter was almost unnecessary—just hunting alone would drain nearly all their energy.
The ones Hill saw most often were ghouls, who usually hid in the town’s sewers. If they stayed there long enough, green moss would even start to grow on them. They had a certain amount of intelligence, but not much. Bloodkin could still suppress their craving for fresh blood, but once ghouls saw raw flesh and blood, they turned into mindless, rabid dogs.
They were constantly trapped in a frenzy of hunger, as if cursed by hell itself. Only sunlight or the Goddess’s holy light could instill fear in them, forcibly suppressing their instincts.
Hill said goodbye to her friends and returned home alone. Just as she closed the creaky wooden door behind her, the distant bell tower chimed six o’clock in the afternoon. This was the final moment before nightfall, and outside the window, she could see people hurrying along.
One hour left, and then she would change into her black overcoat and go out hunting.
She… was already hungry.
The closer it got to this hour, the more Hill longed for last night’s mouthful of fresh blood. Who exactly was that blonde girl?
She was quite curious, yet she knew the odds of running into her again were almost zero.
That smooth, long hair, delicate skin, the refined manners evident in her words and actions… No doubt, she was a noble.
Hill spent every day at the Academy with all kinds of nobles. She was far too familiar with the bearing of such young ladies or lords. As for why the girl had been out alone late at night, almost assaulted by a drunken man… who knew?
Perhaps it was the Goddess playing a trick.
But if it was the Goddess’s blessing, Hill could only regret that she was not destined to enjoy it. The price for kidnapping a noble lady was more than she could bear. She didn’t even have a Sequence yet—how could she hope to fight the sheriff’s firearm, or the lamp glowing with the power of the Goddess of Light?
Hill didn’t waste her waiting time. She sat on her bed and began to meditate, following the method taught at school—a compulsory subject for all mages.
She entered the meditative state quickly, spending no more than two or three minutes. Unlike before, when it took her at least ten or twenty minutes to cast aside distracting thoughts and enter the “ethereal” state.
This was where a mage’s talent truly showed. The less time it took to enter meditation and the slower it was to exit, the stronger one’s spiritual power. And spiritual power was one of the standards for measuring a mage’s strength. Casting spells required not only mana, but also the support of spiritual power.
Some powerful mages didn’t even need to cast spells—spiritual power alone could influence reality.
Controlling matter, altering thoughts, destroying consciousness—like a god.
When Hill emerged from meditation, her room was pitch black. As a bloodkin, her night vision was excellent, and she could also sense that her skill [Blessing of the Night] had already activated, with the power bestowed by the Goddess starting to flow through her body.
What time was it?
She walked to her desk and fished a cracked pocket watch from the drawer.
Eight o’clock at night—she had meditated for a full two hours!
Hill nearly forgot to breathe when she realized this.
Before now, she had never meditated for more than half an hour, and the experience gained afterward was usually just one point. But now, opening her panel, she saw her experience had increased by five whole points!
Name: Hill Hamill
Level: 1 (70/100)
Race: Bloodkin
Sequence: None
Skills: [Blessing of the Night I], [Transcendent Magic I]
Hill felt like she’d been living in a dream these past two days. First, she’d unexpectedly encountered a mysterious girl, and then, in an ordinary prayer, she’d received the blessing of the Goddess.
With her previous progress, there was absolutely no way she could reach level 10 before coming of age and advance to Sequence I. But now, even without counting the experience gained from drinking blood, just two hours of meditation a day would let her reach that goal!
She even felt her eyes prick with tears—was she finally going to make it through?
Maybe in a year, she could confidently demonstrate her Sequence I power to the inspectors sent by the kingdom, legitimately inherit her noble title, move back into the Hamill family’s old villa, and claim ownership of several shops in town.
“No, Hill.” She patted her flushed cheeks—an exceedingly rare occurrence for a bloodkin whose body was always a little cold. Forcing herself to calm down, she changed out of her school uniform and took the old black overcoat from her wardrobe.
She left the apartment. At 8 p.m., the town was silent, with only crows and unknown insects making a racket.
With the Goddess’s blessing, Hill found it easy to leap across rooftops. She reached the top of the apartment as usual. The height wasn’t conspicuous, but the chilly night breeze was enough to help her cool off.
An overexcited mind could easily make her act irrationally during the hunt to come.
After more than ten minutes, Hill finally felt the excitement drain from her body. Her nostrils flared gently, sniffing at the scents carried on the wind, searching for prey that interested her.
After a while, she seemed to catch a whiff of alcohol—another drunk?
In her previous life, Hill never liked drinking. She would only sip a little during holidays, barely enough to taste, more for the ritual than for the pleasure, as a way to make up for the childhood when alcohol was off-limits.
In this world, brewing techniques were still primitive. Most of the “alcohol” sold in the town’s taverns was, in truth, little more than real barley juice.
So, Hill could only persuade herself: drinking blood was just a way to fill her belly; advancing required meditation. She was different now, no longer a magic idiot!
With that thought, Hill set out, swiftly moving in the direction of that nauseating alcohol smell carried on the wind. She moved like a night elf, the town’s walls and treetops lending her support. Even if someone accidentally caught sight of her fleeting shadow, they would never see her true face.
Thank the Night Goddess for creating a moment like this, allowing outcasts like her to survive in human towns.
If a level-one bloodkin without a Sequence were thrown into the wilderness, she would probably be eaten by a stronger outcast before the next night even fell.
Compared to the fullness of blood, it was civilization and order that truly nurtured her survival.