Camilla’s steps suddenly halted, her cherry-pink hair stalling ever so slightly in the night breeze.
Why her?
Lyudmila Estrada—the “weirdo” of the Sword Mage department, and in the original work, one of the quintessential “beautiful and tragic powerhouses.”
Key details about her flashed rapidly through Camilla’s mind.
Born into an ancient Demon Hunter Clan, but as a child, she suffered a tragedy—the entire family was slaughtered by a High-Ranking Demon. Only she survived, saved by a passing powerhouse. Since then, she had become extremely sensitive, almost obsessively so, to any Demon or Demon Race presence, harboring an intense hatred and murderous intent.
She possessed the legendary Eye of Dispelling Magic, able to nullify magic through her gaze. No wonder she could pierce Camilla’s concealment.
At this moment, Lyudmila had fully climbed out of the trash bin.
Petite in stature, she wore a somewhat faded academy uniform. Her long purple hair hung in wild disarray, several dead leaves still clinging to the ends.
But her pure black eyes were now shockingly bright, like quenched cold iron, fixed intently on Camilla’s faint, transparent outline, with a chilling murderous intent so intense it seemed almost tangible.
Her hand was already gripping the hilt of the ancient-looking magic sword at her waist, a sharp, latent sword aura swirling threateningly around her.
“Demon… revolting stench…”
Lyudmila’s voice was hoarse and low, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
“You snuck into the academy… What are you after?”
Camilla cursed inwardly. What she needed most right now was to quietly slip back to the dorm, drop her transformation, pretend nothing happened. The longer she tangled with Lyudmila here, the more exponentially the risk of being discovered by other academy powerhouses rose!
“Move aside. I have no quarrel with you. I’m just passing through.”
Camilla lowered her voice, trying to use that magnetic, bewitching tone to ease the tension—even though she knew, with Lyudmila, it probably wouldn’t work.
Sure enough, Lyudmila’s lips twisted into a cold, almost feral grin.
“Passing through? There’s no such thing as a good Demon. All of you deserve to die!”
No sooner had the words left her mouth, her figure vanished!
Tsk, what a hassle.
Camilla’s golden eyes narrowed. Even at her current level of perception, she could only catch a blurred afterimage.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang——!
In mere seconds, the two swords clashed hundreds of times, the sharp screech of metal exploding through the silent night.
Camilla used the force of the rebound to drift backward several meters, landing lightly, her black gauze dress blossoming like an ink lotus.
Peak fifth-rank Sword Mage… Hiss, why is she a rank stronger than in the original?
Camilla instantly gauged her opponent’s strength and felt a headache coming on.
Ordinarily, her own strength was about standard fourth rank. If she fully unleashed her Fiendish Blood, she could reach peak sixth rank—but the side effects were too great to risk. Currently, she’d only released about half its power, putting her at peak fifth rank.
Camilla didn’t want a fight, but clearly, her opponent wouldn’t let her go.
“Then let’s make this quick…”
Her aura shifted abruptly, and she changed from defense to offense, thrusting her sword back against Lyudmila’s oncoming blade!
Clang!
A sound sharp as crystal rang out.
Lyudmila felt a surge of irresistible force through her sword, her entire arm instantly numb, the sword nearly wrenched from her grip! She grunted, stumbling backward, for the first time showing a look of shock in her eyes.
The gap… was this wide? She could tell—her opponent hadn’t even used any real killing techniques. Just a casual strike had shattered the sword technique she’d honed for years!
Camilla didn’t pursue, her golden eyes coolly watching.
“Want to keep going? You’re not my match.”
“Demons… must die!”
Lyudmila seemed utterly enraged by this, or rather, something deep within her had been irreparably touched—a wound, an obsession.
With a low growl, her already pale face turned sheet-white, yet her aura erupted like burning fire, her black hair floating upward as if in a gale, crimson light flashing deep in her pupils!
Blood-Burning Secret Art?!
Camilla recognized the move. This was Lyudmila’s desperate skill in the game: burning her own lifespan and potential for an explosive burst of power far beyond her limits, though only for a short time.
This is bad…
Fueled by her burning life, Lyudmila’s speed and strength skyrocketed. She slashed again, the sword light forming a pitch-black torrent that tore through the night, desperate and ferocious—a blow close to the threshold of sixth rank.
Camilla’s brow creased. She could take the hit, but that would cause too much commotion and draw unwanted attention.
In a split second, an idea flashed in her mind.
Sorry, Lyudmila, though this method is a bit… underhanded, it’s the fastest way to quiet you down.
Facing that do-or-die slash, Camilla didn’t block or dodge. Instead, she released, as a High-Ranking Demon of the succubus line, her Charm Scent, condensed to its extreme.
Bzzz——
An invisible, formless aura spread out from Camilla.
But this wasn’t the usual seductive aroma—instead, Camilla had deliberately concentrated it to such a level that it became… a biochemical weapon.
As everyone knows, at high enough concentrations, even the finest perfumes become sickening. The same went for the succubus’s Charm Scent: in small doses, it stirs the blood; in excess…
“Urgh——!”
Lyudmila, mid-swing and ferocious, suddenly froze, her face twisting in agony.
She felt as though her sense of smell—and some deeper organ—had been smothered by an indescribable stench, sickly sweet mixed with sulfur and rotting roses. Her mind went blank, her sword aura and burning life force stuttering, her stomach lurching violently.
Now!
Camilla’s golden eyes flashed. In the instant Lyudmila stiffened from the overwhelming nausea, she darted close, and with precise force, delivered a swift side kick square into Lyudmila’s abdomen!
“Pff——!”
Lyudmila let out a muffled groan, her body flying like a severed kite, landing right back into the trash bin she’d just crawled out of.
Bang!
The trash bin lid flipped a few times, then settled firmly shut, with only faint coughs and retching escaping through the cracks.
Camilla quickly suppressed her aura. Looking at the slightly wobbling trash bin, she hesitated, then pulled a pure blood crystal from her storage bracelet, flicking it so that it spun as a streak of light straight through a gap in the lid.
With everything done, she dared not linger. The concealment once again cloaked her, and like a startled night bird, she shot at full speed toward the dormitory.
Behind her, faintly from the trash bin came Lyudmila’s furious, weak growl.
“Bast…ard… Demon… I’ll remember you… urgh…”
Camilla paid her no heed. Only one thought filled her mind: Get back! Get back!
At last, she slipped silently back through her dorm window, canceled her succubus form, returned to her petite, black-haired, red-eyed self, and hurriedly changed into her pajamas, breathless, heart pounding like a drum.
However, before she could even catch her breath, the scene in her room made her freeze instantly.
At some point, the lights had been turned on.
Her elder sister, Ophelia, sat expressionlessly on the chair by her bed, her ice-blue eyes as deep as a pool, quietly watching her.
And on the floor, a figure tightly bound in pale blue Ice Chains—the vampire princess Sarina Lyles.
Rimuru was riding on her head, hammering and pounding away at the unwelcome guest.
Ophelia’s gaze left Sarina and landed on Camilla, who had just climbed in through the window. Her voice was calm, yet it made Camilla’s scalp prickle.
“Camilla, it’s so late—where did you go?”