Returning to her own apartment, Hill gazed up at the moon in the sky, her heart filled with anticipation as she began to pray.
But even after the symbol of the Night Goddess faded, there was not the slightest movement on the panel—only a slight increase of three experience points, better than nothing.
Alright, it seemed the Night Goddess wasn’t in the best of moods today and had no desire to show her the beauty beneath her skirt.
Hill curled her lips. If the Goddess didn’t want to, so be it. She still held a devout reverence in her heart for the Lady Goddess.
Back in her apartment, Hill was eager to meditate again to gain more experience, but as an ordinary person without even a Sequence, she could only meditate once per day at most. Forcing herself to meditate a second time would damage her mental strength, and after several times, it wouldn’t be impossible to become an idiot.
This sort of thing was much like cultivating one’s taste—do it regularly and in moderation; you cannot force it, and you mustn’t let desire cloud your eyes.
Oh, and the desire she spoke of was the desire to become stronger.
The next day, donning her vibrant and youthful academy uniform, Hill slipped her delicate, black-stockinged feet into her short boots, the heels clicking crisply against the floor. She opened the door, and fresh morning air rushed in eagerly, making a genuine smile bloom on her face.
Another beautiful day. The filthy deeds of those aberrations in the night had nothing to do with her. Right now, she was just an ordinary student, a young girl loved by all.
She now looked forward to the daily magic lessons with great anticipation. Every extra minute she listened to the teacher’s lecture would be all the more beneficial for her.
Advancing to Sequence I and becoming an Extraordinary within a year was hardly an unattainable goal!
She made her way to the center of the small town, where the lord’s bulletin board stood. All major announcements were posted here and usually took a day or two to spread throughout the town. When Hill returned, she happened to see a crowd gathered around, talking in low voices. She squeezed in for a look and saw a statement posted in the most prominent spot on the board:
“Attention, dear residents of Nolkan. Recently, aberrations have been unusually active in the town and have already attacked several innocent people. The Security Bureau has deployed more personnel and strengthened night patrols. We urge all townsfolk to avoid leaving their homes during the hours belonging to the Night Goddess.”
“……”
There was a long string of information following that, but nowhere did it mention the young lady of the Viscount’s house. This was no surprise. After all, nobles always adhered to the principle: family scandals must not be made public.
It was true that the Viscount’s daughter had nearly been attacked in Nolkan Town, but why would a pampered young lady appear in such a dangerous place in the middle of the night? Now, that was food for thought.
Of course, Hill simply regretted that she probably wouldn’t be able to drink blood of such quality for quite a long while. Thinking about it now, she couldn’t help but swallow several times.
“Hill!” Helena’s lively voice rang in her ears. The young girl was unpretentious, bounding over like a wild rabbit and leaving Otis behind.
She came to Hill’s side and, noticing her friend’s moving throat, whispered, “Hill, are you hungry again? Do you want—”
“No need.” Hill snapped back to herself and looked at her friend with an elegant and appropriate smile. “I ate something before leaving this morning. I’m not hungry yet.”
“I see.”
……
Hill’s life continued as before: studying at the academy by day, returning to her apartment to meditate at night, and only going out to hunt when hunger struck. The rewards from praying to the Night Goddess now were only the occasional, scant experience points.
Hill could barely understand this. After all, she really hadn’t done anything to please the Lady Goddess since then.
To drain the blood of an emissary of the Light Goddess among mortals—such a thing was unimaginable for a fledgling bloodkin who wasn’t even Extraordinary. Hill had been outrageously lucky that time; she couldn’t expect her luck to hold.
However, the benefits from [Extraordinary Magic] were real. Ever since then, Hill had never found learning magic so easy. In just a few days, she made up for all the lessons she’d fallen behind on, and learning new knowledge became increasingly effortless.
Three months later, Hill opened her panel:
Name: Hill Hamilton
Level: 4 (400/30)
Race: Bloodkin
Sequence: None
Skills: [Night’s Blessing I], [Extraordinary Magic I]
After reaching level four, Hill could clearly feel her physical fitness and mental strength had increased, now nearly twice what they had been three months ago.
She was also surprised to find that her meditation sessions had grown longer. Now, each session lasted two and a half hours, earning her six experience points.
It was said that magicians above Sequence I could even replace sleep with meditation.
This was truly cultivation.
Today’s magic lesson was a bit special: the results of last week’s magic test were to be announced. The test included both a written exam and a mental strength assessment—written for theory, mental strength for the basic quality of a magician. Those with weak mental strength would tire after casting just a few spells. Forcing spells would damage the brain and ultimately turn you into a drooling fool who could only mutter, “Uhhh, ohhh.”
Just thinking about it gave Hill the chills, so even with her great thirst for power, she had never violated a magician’s code.
Inks, the white-bearded old man with a face full of whiskers, stood at the podium with his usual meticulous expression. If you looked closely, though, you could see a faintly upturned corner at his mouth.
Soon, the bell rang for class, and the students, anxious, sat at their desks.
Everyone knew how hard magic was, and everyone’s talent was made clear by the bi-monthly magic assessments. Theory, rune drawing, magic array analysis… The first two could be memorized by rote, but without some talent, magic arrays were simply impossible to grasp.
Sitting at her desk, Hill, who was always alert, heard many students sighing in distress:
“If my test results aren’t good this time, my father will definitely cut my allowance again.”
“At least you’ll only get less pocket money. See Nolan over there? If his magic talent doesn’t improve, he won’t be eligible to inherit the title at all.”
“After all, magicians who can advance to Sequence I and become Extraordinary are as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. The wizard our family employs is treated by my father with the respect due a noble lord. My mother, who is herself of noble birth, is still always respectful to her, often inviting her to her room for chats.”
“Do you think anyone in Inks’ class will become a full-fledged magician before graduation?”
“How could that be? My father says most magicians are already in their twenties or thirties by the time they reach Sequence I!”
“True. Only geniuses from the capital might manage it.”
“Ahem!” Teacher Inks’ voice was not loud, but every student, no matter where they sat, could hear it clearly. Such was the use of mental strength.
Though his face was old, Inks’ eyes were sharp as an eagle’s. Few students dared meet his gaze. As a Sequence II magician, he exerted a natural pressure on all lower beings. That sensation, as if your heart and throat were being gripped, made it hard for ordinary people to even breathe in his presence.
“For last week’s magic assessment, those who didn’t achieve at least a C grade—I advise you to drop out next year. If you have a family business, inherit it. If you have a title, take it. If you have nothing, learn a trade as soon as possible, or you’ll end up as a drunken vagrant after graduation.”
Inks’ voice was hoarse, and with his tone, it sent a chill down one’s spine.
He waved his hand, magic gathered in the air, and soon rows of names and corresponding scores appeared.
The students strained to find their own names, faces either relieved or disappointed. They dared not raise their voices, only whispering to their friends. Yet everyone’s focus was on one question—who was Hill Hamilton?
Hill Hamilton, that name was listed right at the very top, with the grade “S” following it!
Only a handful in the entire academy had ever earned that grade; there had never been one in Inks’ class before!
The name just beneath was Helena, graded “A”—already quite an achievement, but at this moment, it drew no attention at all.
Many gazes fell on Hill, including those of her two closest friends.
Helena was truly happy for her friend’s achievement, patting her shoulder several times.
Otis, too, but deep in those sapphire eyes was a faint, nearly imperceptible disappointment. Even as she mouthed her congratulations, her smile barely turned up at the corners.
Her own grade was “D”, far below her two friends. Compared to her grades in Elvish, it was worlds apart!
Do I really have no talent for magic?
Otis felt as if her fragile heart was about to bleed.
At the podium, Inks suddenly called out before the whole class, “Hill Hamilton.”
Upon hearing her name, Hill naturally stood up.
She drew even more attention now—a lovely girl, her noble-styled academy uniform making her even more dazzling.
There was a note of approval in Inks’ voice. “You’ve made great progress. Beyond your growth in mental strength, your understanding of magic has truly surprised me. See me in my office after class.”
All at once, countless envious and jealous gazes fell upon her.
To be honest, Hill should have been happy, but whenever she thought of her identity as bloodkin, these burning stares felt like holy water from the Cathedral of Light being poured over her.
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