Hill clutched the manuscript tightly to her chest, its pages radiating an aura of age. Teacher Inks said he wrote it in his youth—by now, it must be several decades old.
That really makes it quite the antique…
But more importantly, this was the handwritten work of a mage who had advanced in the Sequence—a treasure of immeasurable value to an apprentice like her. Judging by Inks’ rigid teaching style in class, Hill figured that even with the [Extraordinary Magic] talent, it would be nearly impossible to advance in the Sequence before coming of age.
But now, with this manuscript in hand, things were different. Hill had only flipped through a few pages in the corridor, barely skimming the contents, and her magical intuition had already told her—compared to the theoretical knowledge taught in class, what was recorded in this manuscript was far more helpful for advancing in the Sequence.
Within it were many of Inks’ personal insights. While the manuscript contained far more rambling than a proper textbook, picking and choosing through the words, there was still a wealth of useful knowledge. Most importantly, it also detailed the ritual needed to advance in the Sequence!
Unlike the other Sequences, the advancement of a Mage did not require praying to the Goddess, nor did it rely on waiting for a miracle to descend. The Goddess of Magic, lofty and distant, was like a strict examiner to those apprentices who longed for knowledge and miracles.
One merely had to seek the Goddess’ gaze within their heart, and then begin to demonstrate the qualifications of a mage—doing all one was capable of—until the Goddess acknowledged the apprentice’s right to advance.
Within the manuscript, Inks had penned a particularly passionate passage. Compared to his usual precise handwriting, this part appeared almost wild. Even as Hill read it now, she could picture the youthful apprentice’s face, brimming with pride.
“Curiosity is the truest devotion to the Goddess of Magic. My research may not be excellent, but perhaps it was my burning desire for knowledge that drew the Lady’s gaze to me. Thus I advanced from [Apprentice] to [Scholar].”
Hill’s heart surged. This was all knowledge never taught at the Academy. Not a single proper teacher… She wondered how long it would take before she could learn about the world of the Extraordinary, and the Sequence.
So it turns out that after gaining access to magical knowledge, they would be called [Apprentice]—and this was the name of the entire Sequence as well.
As for the other Sequences, they each corresponded to the Five Great Deities, each with their own titles.
For example, the Sequence of the Goddess of Radiance was called [Lamb].
And as for the Goddess of the Night, whom Hill worshipped, that Sequence was called [Monster].
Outside, Hill didn’t dare linger. She looked about guiltily, as if she had something to hide. She’d already spent some time in the office, and now she needed to hurry home. Fortunately, having filled her belly last night, there was no need to hunt tonight. After reading the manuscript, she could dedicate her time to meditation, free of worry.
With that thought, her mood instantly brightened.
The last time she felt so happy was when her prayers had been answered by the Goddess of the Night, granting her the [Extraordinary Magic] skill. But ever since that night, none of her moonlit prayers had earned her the Goddess’ favor again.
Of course, responses still came. The Goddess of the Night, who sheltered even bloodlines like Vampires and Ghouls, was never stingy in this regard. Unlike the cold and distant Goddess of Radiance—when Hill passed the cathedral, she often heard the priests and nuns complain that the Goddess of Radiance may not favor lambs such as themselves.
Every prayer brought her a point or two of experience, better than nothing, but valuable in accumulation. It was like the Goddess’ flirtatious, irresponsible wink, luring those on the [Monster] Sequence to keep courting her favor in countless ways.
Speaking of which, if those one or two points of experience were the “wink thrown by the Goddess,” then the skill she’d received before—could that be… a kiss?
Hill suddenly shivered all over, her previously cheerful steps faltering. She couldn’t help but cover her cheeks—the bizarre and twisted faith carved into her soul and blood seemed to stir again, surging up in uncontrollable joy, even happier than when she’d read the manuscript!
This was the favor of the Goddess of the Night—her blessing, and her curse.
As long as Vampire blood flowed within her, and as long as that Goddess continued to shelter outcasts like her, this blessing—or curse—would never fade.
Unless… another Goddess intervened. But how could that be possible?
Lost in her thoughts, Hill made her way through the winding streets, away from the town center. The sky darkened, and from afar, the bell tower rang out the last chime of the day.
It was now 6:00 p.m. Some of the hidden outcasts lurking in the darkness had begun to stir, and at the same time, the constables donned their neat uniforms and emerged onto the streets.
At this hour, their duty was to urge the townsfolk to return home, and at the same time, look for any signs that outcasts might appear.
The new constable, Jack, was patrolling his assigned district. It was still early, and with two pieces of bread in his stomach, he felt quite energetic. As he’d hoped, after three months, although still a “newcomer” in name, he had already completed his probationary period.
In other words, he was about to be fully instated!
All because of that patrol three months ago, which seemed ordinary at the time.
He, an obscure junior constable, had inadvertently discovered the viscount’s daughter on the streets. Soon after, though the Viscount himself hadn’t come in person, he’d sent a servant to the constable’s office to express his thanks. Even if some of the credit had been taken by his seniors, Jack had still received plenty of commendation.
Passing the probation was just the beginning—he was bound to rise steadily through the ranks, one day reaching a high position in the constable’s office!
So as Jack walked along the street, he smiled at every passing resident. If he came across small troubles, he would offer his help—which his colleagues dismissed as posturing, but to the nearby residents, the new face among the constables had a very good reputation.
Suddenly, a sweet scent drifted past Jack—not the perfume favored by noble ladies or gentlewomen, but the unique fragrance of a young girl, mixed with the faint aroma of books.
By the time he snapped back to himself, a hurried figure had already passed by: dressed in the uniform of the Public Academy of Magic, bag in one hand, books in the other. The heels of her short boots struck the ground in a rapid rhythm, pleasant to the ear. Her beautiful brown hair cascaded down her back, fluttering like a skirt when an elf danced in the wind.
“Phew!” Jack stood frozen for a moment, only coming to when a woman beside him patted his shoulder.
“Officer Jack,” the woman said kindly. She held a bag of fragrant muffins, wrapped in expensive oil paper to keep them warm for quite some time. “Thanks to you last time, I made it home before 7. These are fresh from the oven—night patrol must be tough on you.”
Flustered, Jack tried to push the muffins back, but in the end, he accepted a few.
Meanwhile, Hill walked briskly to her apartment. The neighbors were returning home as well, but instead of going straight inside, they lingered at the door, gossiping as they eyed a lavishly adorned carriage.
“Look at that fine steed, tsk tsk, those muscles—stronger than my husband who works in the factory.”
“And that coachman is quite handsome too… No wonder the nobility’s servants—and even their animals—are so well cared for.”
“Keep your voice down, don’t let the lord or lady inside hear, or people like us commoners will be in for it!”
“Say, what sort of high and mighty noble would come all the way out to a shabby place like this?”
“Who knows! Maybe someone around here has offended a big shot?”
Curious, Hill moved closer and examined the carriage, thinking it seemed oddly familiar.
Suddenly, a familiar voice called out: “Hill! Hill! Over here!”
It was Otis’ voice?
Hill suddenly remembered—the crest on the carriage belonged to Otis’ family.
So now the question was, though this noble lady was her good friend, what could possibly have brought her to such a dirty and chaotic part of town to look for Hill?