At the very center of the small town, this was the most bustling area. The closer you got to the Academy, the more pedestrians you could see on the road.
Of course, most of them were students. Those who were wealthy or noble often had butlers and maids accompanying them.
The boys were handsome, and the girls beautiful. In this world, dyed hair wasn’t so popular, yet the people seen along the way sported a dazzling variety of hair colors.
Naturally, only those with noble bloodlines tended to have such features, since their ancestors were extraordinary beings. Due to various supernatural powers, their bodies had mutated. A change in hair color was the mildest and most socially acceptable sign.
“Cyril, why do I feel like you’ve been giving Ottis and me strange looks all the way here?” As they neared the Academy, Helena suddenly raised a question.
Wasn’t it true?
Cyril had been thinking about the blood she drank last night ever since she lay down to sleep. That sensation, as if swallowing the very sun itself, was something she would never forget for the rest of her life.
No wonder—the status screen had reminded her: that delicate, pitiful young girl was the emissary of the Goddess of Light on earth! In other words, a divine envoy walking among mortals, destined in time to advance to Sequence VI and become something akin to a demigod.
As a result, after Cyril had moved the girl to a conspicuous spot on the street, she had no interest, despite having time, in feeding on the drunkard she had knocked out earlier. Even if it only required a scratch of her nail rather than actually biting, she found herself instinctively repulsed by the idea.
How could she endure such a drastic drop—from fine delicacies to pickled radish—spoiled pickled radish, at that?
For vampires, feeding on blood was essentially a process of energy absorption. In theory, only vampire nobles would care about taste. People like her, hiding among humans and scraping by, should be happy to have anything to eat at all!
After all, even drunkards and scavengers feared those who prowled the night, which made hunting increasingly difficult.
But, but…
Cyril’s heart was in turmoil, so much so that, because of her thoughts, she found herself hungry again this morning.
Of course, the energy from the mysterious girl’s blood last night was enough to sustain her until the next day.
It’s just that when someone is hungry, the last thing they want is for a feast to be placed before them. For a vampire, a feast naturally meant those lively humans—the fresh blood flowing beneath their thin skin.
Helena and Ottis were both radiant young girls, and both virgins. Just thinking about it made Cyril’s mouth water. The three of them had always been close, and today was no exception. Walking down the street shoulder to shoulder, those delicate necks seemed just within reach!
Called out by Helena, Cyril’s face flashed an awkward expression, but as friends, no one would doubt her over such a tiny change.
“It’s just… I’m a bit hungry…” Cyril admitted shyly.
Sometimes, the truth is hidden within a lie; even if not a word is changed, the facts can be glossed over.
The two girls at her side showed sympathetic expressions.
Cyril had always been petite. Ever since her family’s decline, when they’d moved from the town center to a remote apartment, she had only grown thinner and frailer. The school provided free communion for students every day at 1 p.m., but “free” often meant “cheap.”
Vegetables, bread, a tough, dry cutlet with barely any juice to speak of, and a stew so sour it was nearly inedible. The most expensive item in the meal was probably the pat of butter smeared on the bread.
No wonder those of noble birth preferred to bring their own food from home; only the poorer students cherished the “free” communion included in their tuition.
It didn’t taste good, but it filled the belly.
For Cyril, who lived on blood, only the stew offered any flavor. The rest was like gnawing on sawdust.
Suddenly, a delicious aroma wafted through the air, stronger than anything from the bakeries or pastry shops they’d passed.
Helena had pulled out her own lunchbox—an iron box wrapped in a layer of precious aluminum. Aluminum had the luster of silver but was much more durable. Ordinary families prized even a single aluminum ornament, while nobles used the metal for utensils and other household items—vases, mirrors, and so on.
Though not a noble, Helena’s father was a famous merchant in town, so it was no surprise she had such a lunchbox.
When she opened the lid, inside was her meal for the day.
There was a salad beloved by all nobles, hearty sausages, several slices of pickled beetroot to cleanse the palate, and, of course, the main event: two sandwiches in the center.
Soft white bread, the crusts removed, filled with juicy chicken, two slices of smoked ham, a generous spread of cream, and rare spices for seasoning…
Gulp.
Cyril might be a vampire now, but her soul was from her previous life. Her body might disdain such food, but her soul still longed for it.
“Why don’t you have this sandwich for breakfast, Cyril?” Helena said with a smile.
She wasn’t just talk. Her father’s wealth gave her a good life, but he hadn’t bound her with rules. Among all the noble-born students, Helena always stood out as different.
A fair, clean hand reached into the box and carefully lifted out a sandwich, handing it quickly to Cyril in the chilly morning air.
Looking up, Cyril met Helena’s gentle smile. “Eat up before it gets cold,” she urged.
“…But what about your lunch?” Cyril couldn’t help but ask.
Helena blinked, unconcerned. “There’s still one left. Besides, I couldn’t eat that much anyway.”
With the offer made so plainly, Cyril couldn’t refuse any longer. Before they entered the Academy, she quickly ate the sandwich in a few bites.
Sure enough, the fullness lasted only a moment. For a vampire, almost all human food was just useless bulk—she couldn’t absorb it.
But the kindness in this gesture was more delicious than the freshest blood.
Perhaps, of all the goddess’s blessings, the most precious was this peaceful, beautiful life.
If she had crossed over into a world of poverty, chaos, and war, what would have become of her soul? The kindness from her previous life would surely have been devoured quickly. Cyril Hamilton might soon have become the sort of evil vampire everyone wanted to kill.
Helena was startled by Cyril’s ravenous eating and said in amazement, “Don’t rush, we’re still a way from the Academy!”
Cyril replied, “It was Helena’s wish. If it got cold, wouldn’t that hurt the heart of someone as kind as an angel?”
Ottis, who always seemed a bit aloof, couldn’t help but tease, “Exactly. With a girl as pure and kind as Helena, if you take her out of her warm aluminum lunchbox and leave her outside, she’ll cool down fast. So, Cyril’s quick and efficient solution really is the best.”
With her two best friends teasing her like this, Helena, who still had a hint of baby fat, puffed out her cheeks even more.
“So that’s how it is! You two just see me as a sandwich, huh?”
“Maybe you’re a sausage, too,” Cyril said, touching her chin and looking serious.
“Why not smoked ham?” Ottis chimed in. Helena’s fair complexion clearly didn’t match the dark hue of smoked ham.
Helena looked even more indignant. “You two!”
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