Helia Manor, Fana’s bedroom.
The layered chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the lavish decorations surrounding the room, and the various precious ornaments all spoke volumes about the immense wealth and high status of the room’s owner.
On the sofa, Fana, having returned to her Blood Clan form, sat lazily with one leg crossed over the other. Her right hand propped up her cheek, while her left hand held a stack of finalized documents. Her crimson vertical pupils scanned the densely packed text.
Before her, a mature woman with long gray-white hair knelt on one knee, head bowed low, showing no hint of defiance toward Fana.
About three minutes later, Fana finished reading through the documents and casually tossed them into the air. The papers instantly ignited with pale blue flames, burning away completely before touching the floor, leaving no ash behind.
“The experiments in Number Three Testing Ground are getting more twisted by the day. Even I feel a bit nauseous just reading this. I wonder what Clark is so anxious about—so afraid of the Blood Clan attacking her, is she?”
Fana rubbed her brow, appearing somewhat troubled.
The gray-haired woman remained silently kneeling, offering no reply.
“What about the source of the Magic Beast mutations in Mageling Forest? What have you found?”
Fana directed her gaze toward the woman, asking softly.
“My lady, there are some clues, but nothing definitive yet.”
“The monitoring data shows that twenty mutated Magic Beasts appeared in Mageling Forest overnight—all emerging within a single night. The source remains unidentified.”
“One night? Beasts jumping from Third-tier to Fourth-tier, Fourth-tier to Fifth-tier?”
Fana’s expression grew strange.
“Yes, my lady.”
“Are you sure these beasts aren’t connected to Number Three Testing Ground? They’re not some out-of-control abominations from those disgusting experiments, right?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“When I left the testing ground, I accounted for all the Magic Beasts that had entered or exited. Their number, types, and losses don’t match most of the mutated Magic Beasts now in Mageling Forest.”
“The project there also can’t produce cross-tier enhanced Magic Beasts without greatly altering their appearance or magical nature.”
“Most likely, these beasts mutated due to some external unknown force.”
“Nothing to do with Number Three Testing Ground…”
Fana shifted her posture, lightly tapping her fingernails on the tea table. The rhythmic clinking echoed crisply.
As she thought, Fana recalled the Elf girl who appeared seemingly out of thin air yesterday and the anomalies displayed during their battle.
A possibility formed in her mind.
Her tapping fingers suddenly stopped.
“What about Krexia? Have you gotten any information on her?”
“My lady, not yet. There’s no news of other high-ranking Blood Clan members being mobilized, and the Elven side is far away. We’re still investigating.”
“Tell them to stop looking. She can’t be an Elf from the Origin Land.”
After saying this, Fana paused briefly, as if pondering something, then continued.
“Tomorrow, follow her. Do not make direct contact or reveal yourself. Record all her movements and information.”
“If she goes to Mageling Forest on a mutated Magic Beast hunting contract, attack her—but don’t kill her. Just find a way to exhaust her magic. Don’t do anything else unnecessary.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then you may take your leave.”
The woman finished speaking and bowed respectfully before preparing to leave.
“Stop.”
“Any other orders, my lady?”
At Fana’s command, the woman stiffened, instinctively turning back and kneeling.
“Come here, lift your head.”
The woman obediently obeyed, raising her head to reveal a stunningly cold, restrained face. Her dark red eyes gleamed sharply under the bright lights, reflecting a piercing watery glow.
Fana slowly approached, cupping the mature, alluring face. Her gaze drifted down to the woman’s chest—two large, full fruits prominently displayed.
Then her eyes flicked to her own modest curves, barely visible beneath her Blood Clan form.
A subtle displeasure flashed in Fana’s eyes.
Why did a half-Blood Clan member have such a figure?!
However, when she remembered the elementary school-like build of the Elf girl she once met with the Queen, she felt strangely comforted.
“Take off your coat.”
A brief command.
The woman clearly understood Fana’s intent. A faint flush appeared on her otherwise pale, expressionless face.
Her black coat slid off the smooth, rounded shoulder, revealing a body already fully ripe with seductive allure.
Her head tilted slightly to one side, exposing her fair, slender neck and shoulders completely to Fana.
Without hesitation, Fana leaned in and bit down. Her sharp fangs pierced deeply into the neck, crimson blood slowly trickling down the silk-smooth skin.
The vivid red on the pale skin was like a bright vermilion dot on fine rice paper, flowing downward with gravity toward the low valleys of those towering peaks.
The woman’s face gradually flushed red, her hands clenched into fists, trembling as she fought to keep silent.
Fana gripped the woman’s tender shoulders tightly, her nails lightly digging into the flesh. Her eyes shone with excited red light.
In the quiet hall, only the faint sound of swallowing remained.
***
Several minutes later, a figure cloaked in a wide black robe staggered out of Helia Manor.
After glancing around cautiously, they swept their robe aside. A faint, dark red glow, barely noticeable in the night, flickered and then transformed into a flock of pitch-black bats that scattered, disappearing into the darkness.
It was as if nothing had happened at Helia Manor.
Ten minutes passed again before a carriage bearing the Hailiya Viscount Family Crest stopped outside the iron gate of Helia Manor.
A well-dressed coachman stepped down to open the carriage door, lifting the curtain respectfully to help a woman clad in pure white robes down. She appeared no older than her twenties and carried an extraordinary aura.
After stepping down, the woman pushed the door open and made her way toward the manor’s main building with ease, completely ignoring the coachman and attendants by her side.
The attendants seemed well accustomed to their mistress’s nature and silently followed behind her.
Before long, the woman reached the main hall, changed her shoes, and casually discarded her slightly soiled pure white coat, tossing it to the attendant behind her.
Looking up toward the tea table in the main hall, she saw Fana restored to her usual appearance, calmly brewing a pot of tea.
Fana poured the steaming, precious Noble Red Tea into two cups and pushed one toward the sofa.
Then she looked up at the dust-covered woman before her.
“Welcome home, Mother.”
The esteemed Viscount Clark Hailiya.
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