Castilla swore, as a vampire—or rather, a member of the Blood Clan.
Even if her bloodline wasn’t that pure, she had always considered things from the Blood Clan’s perspective, and most of her views aligned with the mainstream Blood Clan.
She deeply despised things like Magic Scrolls or Magic Stones that could store Magic in advance.
Probably only humans would use such boring things, right?
In their eyes, these items were always placed at the same table as Preset Dishes.
Casting Magic was already tedious—there was chanting, converting elements, and the caster themselves were fragile—just a thin skin with a lot of stuffing.
Noble Blood Clan, in battle, could grow stronger and fiercer just by consuming blood, fighting more bravely the more they fought.
Things like exhaustion, Mana depletion, or collapsing from serious injuries weren’t problems for the Blood Clan—as long as they could take in fresh blood, none of it mattered.
A mouthful of blood could instantly refresh the State Bar, clearing the mind—this BUG-like ability was no different from using a cheat code in a game for most humans.
But her experience today undeniably shook her deeply rooted belief about Magic Scrolls.
Watching Kressia slowly recover under the effect of the [Blessing of Light] Divine Spell Scroll, Castilla finally felt her heart return to its place.
This absolutely couldn’t end with her dead—if she died, there would be trouble.
She blamed herself, too. Clearly, she’d planned to hold back before the fight, but once things started, she couldn’t control her strength.
Still, it had to be said—these Mages were really fragile. She had already restrained her power by half, and even with two Magic Scrolls’ defensive spells blocking, it had still almost killed her.
Was this person really of the Elven Race?
Elves’ bodies didn’t seem this fragile…
So troublesome. Missions where you had to leave survivors really didn’t suit her.
But the task wasn’t over yet. When the other party woke up, she’d still have to play house with her until her Mana was depleted.
Until the opponent’s Magic was exhausted…
Thinking of this, Castilla silently stepped back a few steps and waited quietly at a distance for Kressia to finish healing.
This thing called holy light might not be fatal to the Blood Clan, but it was still uncomfortable.
About a minute passed. The power of the Divine Spell Scroll gradually faded, its glow dissipated, and Kressia remained quietly seated, showing no signs of waking.
A question mark popped up over Castilla’s head.
She planned to go over and check Kressia’s physical condition. If there were no serious problems, she’d find a way to wake her up and continue the fight.
This time… she’d restrain eighty percent of her strength.
So, Castilla came to stand in front of Kressia.
She looked at Kressia’s pale face, her long silvery hair—restored to its true color after the disguise Magic faded due to her poor state—and those Elven ears.
Castilla’s mind wavered for a moment, an illusion as if she were seeing a high-ranking Blood Clan member.
If she hadn’t already confirmed the information, making sure none of the high-ranking members were missing, she’d probably suspect, like Fana, that this was someone sent by the Queen.
She pinched Kressia’s cheek, turning her face toward herself, and prepared to invade her body with Mana.
Suddenly, Kressia’s eyes opened.
Castilla also stopped channeling Mana. The two stared at each other, neither moving, and the atmosphere became awkward.
Kressia blinked, her wine-red eyes filled with purity and friendliness.
Castilla blinked too, her crimson vertical pupils full of confusion.
“Well…um, could you let go of me first?”
Kressia glanced sideways at the powerless Divine Spell Scroll beside her and the healthy feeling surging through her body.
Add to that the Blood Clan member before her, who now seemed completely non-threatening.
She more or less understood what had happened.
“……”
Castilla squeezed Kressia’s hand a bit tighter.
Out of the Blood Clan’s prideful instinct, she didn’t want to obey an outsider’s words, but holding on like this wasn’t right either.
After hesitating for two seconds, she let go.
Kressia touched her cheek, reddened from being pinched, and secretly glanced up at Castilla.
She was a little curious about what this person actually wanted.
Walking a short distance away, she retrieved her Gunblade and Magic Wand.
The Gunblade was fine, but the Magic Wand was already broken.
A Magic Wand that was supposed to last half a year had died in just two days.
How to put it…it wasn’t unacceptable.
As a Magic Wand up to Third-Tier standards, having survived so many high-intensity, cross-rank Magic releases, it was impressive it lasted this long and didn’t break in the middle of casting.
It was already remarkable.
“Kressia.”
Castilla suddenly spoke.
Kressia turned to look at Castilla. At this point, she had no intention of continuing to fight or running away.
If she couldn’t win or escape, what else could she do?
As long as the other side didn’t kill her, anything could be discussed.
She wasn’t even surprised that this Blood Clan member knew her name.
It was obvious she had come for her from the beginning. The earlier Blood Mist attack on the Little Squad was probably just to clear the field.
“What do you want?”
“Hit me.”
“Huh?”
Kressia sat nearby, staring at the motionless Blood Clan lady standing like a scarecrow, her brows raised in confusion.
Did this person also have some strange fetish?
She’d rather believe she’d misheard.
Seeing no response, Castilla thought for a moment. Maybe her wording was unclear, so she reorganized her phrasing.
“Launch a fierce attack on my body.”
“?”
In Castilla’s view, Kressia was clearly a Mage proficient in the human Magic system, and from her performance, she was obviously clueless about close combat.
But in Kressia’s ears, the words sounded quite different.
She gripped her clothes tightly, taking two fearful steps back.
“No, sis, you went through all this trouble to find me just for this?”
Castilla frowned, considering it.
Then nodded.
“That’s right.”
Actually, she’d wanted to add, “It wasn’t that much trouble,” but she remembered Fana’s advice not to do unnecessary things.
So she aimed to express her request as concisely as possible.
As for using force—she didn’t dare anymore.
Eighty percent power wasn’t necessary, and since the opponent’s Mana was nearly depleted, if she got careless and caused serious injury, she wouldn’t have a second Divine Spell Scroll to heal her.
The only one had been taken from that nun named Anna.
(1/2)