At this moment, Hill felt as if her entire being was about to evaporate. She couldn’t help but recall her true identity as a vampire, now exposed before the crowd as if, at any moment, she would be bound to a cross by a priest of the Church of Holy Light and burned alive!
Calm down, calm down…
Inks, seeing Hill stand up, nodded in approval and raised his hand, indicating that this student could sit back down. He had simply wanted to see, with his own eyes, this previously unremarkable student.
He had graded this student’s exam paper personally. To achieve an “S” in this magic assessment was impressive enough—it meant that Hill had digested nearly everything he had taught in class.
Especially the section at the end of the exam, where the students had to complete a magic array. That was not something an average student could pull off. Mediocre students would only patch it up using what he’d taught them, inevitably falling into the trap he had deliberately set. Unfortunately, out of everyone in the classroom, only Hill had noticed the flaw he had designed, reconstructed the entire magic array, and made its operation far more perfect.
What Inks did regret was that the student he had high hopes for, Helena, who always stayed by Hill’s side, hadn’t managed to hand in a satisfactory answer this time. Of course, it wasn’t her fault—magic was innate, a gift from the gods. Clearly, Helena was not as favored.
But given enough time, she might yet become an excellent mage.
For now, though, Inks favored Hill more—this student who had suddenly emerged from a crowd of mediocrity.
For the entire magic lesson, Inks explained the content of the exam. The majority of students, who hadn’t done well, found themselves lost and confused, while Hill and Helena listened thoughtfully.
As their mutual friend, Otis felt bitter inside. To her, what Inks was explaining now was like an ancient, unreadable tome. Unfamiliar terms, obscure theories… The knowledge passed through her mind without leaving so much as a ripple.
Her face gradually paled; even her usually impeccable composure was slipping. She lowered her head, dazed, the voices around her fading further. In truth, there were plenty of students in the classroom in a similar state, but most of their attention had shifted to the brown-haired girl.
The massacre of the Hamill family had once been the talk of the entire town. The vampires, who usually only dared to hunt drunks and vagrants, had audaciously slaughtered a noble family, leaving only a single underage girl.
Noble etiquette forbade them from discussing the tragic and ill-fated girl openly, but in private, besides a little pity, most people felt only disdain.
No one believed Hill would truly become an extraordinary one before coming of age and thus pass the kingdom inspector’s review. This meant that part of the Hamill estate would be reclaimed by the kingdom, and the rest would be divided and devoured by other families in town.
As for Hill…
If she didn’t want to end up on the streets, she could either become a concubine to an heir of another family, using her pretty face and fallen noble status, or she could prove her devout faith to the Church and become a nun—at least then she wouldn’t worry about food or clothing.
But now everything was different. Hill had been personally praised by Teacher Inks. Soon, she would advance in rank and become a true extraordinary one!
So what if they were children of nobility?
If Hill reached Sequence II or higher and casually earned merits for the kingdom, she could regain her noble title. What an honor that would be!
“Otis? Otis?”
Hill’s voice rang in Otis’s ears, snapping the distracted noble girl back to her senses.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Hill asked with concern.
Unwell?
Otis nodded slightly. She did feel a bit sick to her stomach.
Of course, it wasn’t because of Hill. She simply couldn’t help comparing herself to her two friends, who both possessed remarkable magic talent, while her own achievements were only in Elvish. Being a diplomat or translator sounded impressive, but Otis knew her father would never let her pursue such a decent career.
If she didn’t become extraordinary, what use was it to speak Elvish well?
Otis could already picture it: when her father returned from the royal capital, she would become a decorative little songbird, following him to various refined gatherings. There, she’d be expected to parrot charming Elvish phrases, her skills used solely to polish her father’s reputation.
Then, when the time was right, her fate would be to marry some familiar or unfamiliar noble son, spending her life confined to a castle, imprisoned in the shell of a “noble lady.”
At this thought, Otis felt nauseous, sick, and even found it hard to breathe.
Seeing her friend in such discomfort, Hill could barely sit still. With concern, she asked, “Do you want to go out and rest for a while?”
Helena, who had been paying close attention to the lesson, was also drawn in. “Otis… what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.” How could Otis bear to worry her two best friends?
Besides, her discomfort was all in her head, not due to any illness or defect.
It was simply that she couldn’t bear the thought of such a future.
Otis fixed her gaze on Hill’s delicate, adorable face. Suddenly, a wave of attachment surged within her.
In that future, at least she would be a noble lady, never worrying about food or clothing—the price would only be her freedom. But Hill, having lost her parents and inheritance, if she didn’t have outstanding magical talent, her end would be far more miserable.
Hill had always been a gloomy and timid girl. But lately, she’d changed. Hill’s efforts in magic were obvious to both Otis and Helena.
How cowardly must she seem in Hill’s eyes, getting discouraged over so little?
Did she even deserve to be Hill’s friend?
And so the day passed. As the dismissal bell tolled from the distant clock tower, Otis, like a marionette, left the academy on autopilot, and after a while spotted her family’s carriage. She climbed inside, and upon seeing the person already seated, her pupils contracted slightly, her expression turning uneasy.
She sat down, head lowered, not daring to meet the eyes of the elegant lady before her.
Yes, the woman was her mother—Madam Anna.
“Mother, why did you come in person…”
“Today your class was to announce the magic grades,” Madam Anna said evenly, as if mentioning a trivial matter, but the pressure in her words left Otis nearly breathless.
She answered with difficulty, “Yes.”
“Still a D?”
“Mother, I…”
Madam Anna interrupted: “Yes, or no?”
A bitter taste welled up on Otis’s tongue. She couldn’t utter a word and could only nod stiffly.
Seeing her daughter’s reaction, Madam Anna sighed in disappointment. Her expression softened a bit, but her words were heavy:
“Otis, you must understand, you’re not learning magic for me, but for your own future. I’ve never hidden it from you: I don’t love your father. I wasn’t an extraordinary one, so my father sold me to this family. I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes, but unfortunately, in this house, your father’s word is absolute.”
“In essence, he’s no different from my own father. He’ll keep a brilliant mage in the family, and he’ll also send a beautiful little songbird to someone else’s gilded cage.”
Here’s a concept sketch of young Otis, meow!