Chapter 320
You’ve Been Kidnapped by Us
Eivass was held by Beyad and sent to Private Room No. 1.
Miss Beyad was quite tall—Eivass made a quick estimation and found her height to be nearly 1.8 meters. Even so, she was wearing high heels.
She wore sharp-looking metal half-frame glasses, and her long black hair reached her waist. Her emerald green eyes were like those of a noble and arrogant she-wolf, hiding an aggressive indifference.
She easily held the frail and light body of No. 14. Due to her youth and malnutrition, No. 14’s body was so thin it was like a shadow. Eivass’s main body, even before becoming an Extraordinary, could have carried her easily with one hand, let alone Beyad, who was a Child of the Moon.
Eivass curled up in her embrace, displaying her delicate and harmless nature.
One of her hands gently gripped Miss Beyad’s collar, while the other awkwardly curled up towards her abdomen. Beyad’s high chest pressed down on it, and with each step, a very noticeable movement and pressure were felt.
Eivass closed her eyes, as if she had already fallen asleep. However, her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her breath, suppressed to the point of silence, revealed her tension.
This was what was called “pretending to pretend to be asleep.”
Meanwhile, in her mind, Eivass was chatting with the Shadow Demon:
“If I remember correctly… one of the birth conditions for a Shadow Demon includes a dejected person who fell from a height, right?”
She teased the Shadow Demon in her mind, “Could you be Miss Beyad?”
After she thought this, a long silence emanated from the other side.
“No way, did I guess right?”
Eivass was somewhat astonished.
At this moment, the Shadow Demon responded with a grave and deep voice:
“I am absolutely not her. And she is absolutely not me.”
“—Sorry.”
Eivass keenly sensed that the Shadow Demon wasn’t in a good mood, so she immediately apologized to comfort it.
But another thought quickly arose in her mind: “Could it be… you are No. 14?”
“…What nonsense are you guessing, my cute little master?”
The Shadow Demon replied helplessly, “How could I be so weak?”
“Then you’re Beyad’s friend?”
“Stop guessing, my master. Close your eyes and rest well.”
The Shadow Demon sighed, its tone softening.
—This was completely different from its usual arrogant and wild tone; it sounded somewhat weak.
“You’re quite cute today,” Eivass responded in her mind.
“…Heh.”
The Shadow Demon let out a cold laugh and said nothing more.
The more it refused to let Eivass guess, the more interested Eivass became.
However, no matter what Eivass said afterward, the Shadow Demon no longer replied.
The distance from the Hall to the suite was not far.
Eivass was soon brought to the bed—unlike the gentleness shown on the way, she was almost thrown onto the bed. Fortunately, the bedding was soft enough for her to continue pretending to be asleep with her eyes closed. Or rather, pretending to be dead.
As soon as she lay down, she could hear voices from the next room. Beyad had also clearly heard the voice and stood by the wall, listening with some tension.
Perhaps for amusement, or perhaps to create a more sensational atmosphere, the soundproofing in the suites here was not good. Rather, it was even amplified—just by lying on the bed, one could clearly hear the sounds from the next room through some kind of resonance. It was like the effect of a tin can telephone pressed against a wall.
Considering that the entire Crescent Moon Manor had been reinforced by the Preserver, this design was clearly intentional.
The Path of Love was like this. It emphasized playing to the fullest… the better one played, the easier it was to ascend.
From this perspective, such peculiar designs could even be considered reasonable for enhancing the resonance of the Path.
However, to Eivass and Beyad’s surprise, the voices from the next room were not idle chatter during a break in a special game—they sounded like they were discussing something serious…
Eivass clearly heard words like “Gargoyle,” “self-operating,” and “anti-purification.”
This made her hold her breath slightly, wanting to hear more clearly.
But just then, Miss Beyad suddenly unbuttoned a row of buttons on her chest.
She threw the buttons inlaid with tiny black pearls to the four corners of the room, simultaneously chanting in a low voice:
“Artificer of buttons, Lord of Claws and Fangs, Mother of Secrets, grant me a silent cage that imprisons cats and pigs.”
—This was a Ritual?!
Eivass was startled.
He actually knew this ritual—his Ritual Studies teacher had told him about it before.
“Buttons” had the meaning of minions, and Mother of Secrets referred to the ruler of the shadow domain, the Shadow Heavenly Envoy. Cats and pigs were symbolic references in the ritual… cats referred to women who were drunk or drugged to the point of losing their ability to resist, and pigs referred to bound sacrifices or abductees.
Through this ritual, “Secret Arts” could be used. This was an applied extension of the Silence Art, not dissolving internal sounds but preventing the passage of sound between the inside and outside of the barrier.
Was Miss Beyad also a Ritualist?
As the ritual was established, a gray barrier like a thin mist enveloped the room.
It wasn’t particularly noticeable… perhaps like a person smoking in a room of about twenty square meters for half an hour; when opening the door, one could feel the room was somewhat hazy. But it wasn’t so dense as to be “like a fairyland.”
At that moment, the voices from the next room were completely isolated.
Beyad slapped Eivass’s butt hard.
*Slap!*
“…Oof!”
Eivass stopped pretending to sleep and, covering her butt, got up with a grimace.
She opened her eyes and looked at Beyad, her gaze calm but seemingly fragile, not fearful: “What do you want to do?”
“So you do know this ritual.”
Beyad crossed her arms, her tone calm: “What did you do to me earlier?”
She was still uneasy about the state of delirium she had fallen into.
An ordinary Child of the Moon would not care about such things. They would smoothly believe they had found a treasure—however, Beyad was an exception.
She was quite confident in her robust rationality.
It was an excellent self cultivated during her human years by overcoming various difficulties. She could face temptations directly, find joy without falling, and enjoy without indulging, maintaining her humanity.
The instincts of a Child of the Moon could not affect her.
—Precisely because of this, when her rationality was broken for the first time, when an exception appeared in her cognition… she felt intense unease.
This was her first time in a private room, so she didn’t know about this kind of design. Fortunately, she had also been a Ritualist in her human life, inheriting some of her professional level. At least such a simple ritual could be used normally.
This child… was simply too tempting.
So tempting that on the way here, she had even bitten her own tongue, using pain to regain her rationality and composure.
—Because she suspected this was a trap carefully set for her by her enemies.
Perhaps it was a piece of bait to lure herself into depravity, or to create a weakness for her. Or perhaps her blood was a slow-acting poison, or mixed with an addictive compound.
Countless possibilities swirled in her mind.
It was an unprecedented chaotic era.
Alchemists and Artists were fighting fiercely, but at the same time, they were rapidly seizing various resources. By the time the Demon Scholars and Necromancers realized it, they had become marginalized.
At this juncture, powerful Children of the Moon had stationed themselves in the Imperial Capital.
They were beings who, in a true sense, were ageless and deathless—even if killed, they could be reborn, and could only be sealed or assimilated. Their most terrifying ability was to manipulate human minds and desires at will. They couldn’t even tell if their thoughts were their own, or mere illusions caused by suggestion or charm.
These Children of the Moon had formed an alliance with Alchemists and Artists.
They generously offered their friendship, inviting famous Alchemists and Great Artists to their depraved banquets. In the end, those high-and-mighty figures either became their own people or became food.
In such a situation, they had no choice.
The influence of the Children of the Moon grew like a snowball, and even Beyad herself had been crushed by this madly expanding snowball.
—However, by now, she too had become a part of the Children of the Moon.
But even so, she was unwilling to completely fall. Perhaps it was her pride, or a vague sense of unease… which led her to take over and pacify the confused conglomerate due to her “long disappearance” as if nothing had happened, and she rarely interacted with other Children of the Moon.
Until she met “No. 14.”
She was like a piece of honey, attracting her attention.
Looking at No. 14, Beyad felt as if she were looking at her past self—the ignorant and innocent self before her parents demanded she undergo rigorous ritualistic training.
At that time, she was not yet a Curse Ritualist, nor a Witch. She was not the head of a consortium, nor an orphan.
She was just an ordinary noble lady… a fragile human.
…And looking at her, Beyad felt an increasingly intense, irrepressible evil desire.
She wanted to make the other party impure—she wanted to attack her, to tear her apart, just as she had torn apart her own past. The Path of Love did not generate evil thoughts out of thin air, so this must be the manifestation of some thought in her own heart. Beyad wanted to precisely capture what thought it was that made her lose her composure, so she kept summoning No. 14 to accompany her.
But today, she had lost control after all.
Just a little more—if she had accidentally suffocated her, she would have degenerated into a true Child of the Moon.
—A bloodthirsty monster, a fallen abomination.
Beyad’s thoughts raced as she examined the girl on the bed, pondering seriously.
From this perspective, No. 14 herself might not know anything. After all, this conspiracy involved sacrificing her own life, and she clearly wanted Beyad to take her away.
…Perhaps she was just a stepping stone? A key to make herself waver, to become less steadfast? After all, even a solid fortress has weaknesses; perhaps they just wanted to create a weakness.
Or perhaps the owner of Crescent Moon Manor was showing goodwill, and thus chose a girl that suited her taste.
That was right… They still owed me some money. They borrowed money from me last year to build Crescent Moon Manor, and there’s still more than 300,000 gold coins in debt that hasn’t been repaid. Thirty million shouldn’t be enough to harm me… Was it because of cash flow problems, that they wanted to postpone it a bit?
Just then, No. 14 suddenly unbuttoned her clothes.
Miss Beyad frowned deeply and pressed her hand, kneeling between her legs: “What are you doing, No. 14?”
“You unbuttoned yourself… I just wanted to be like you…”
No. 14 said pitifully, her tone softening Beyad’s heart, as if she had said something wrong.
…Wait.
“—No! You clearly knew this was part of the ritual—”
Beyad suddenly realized.
She felt a bit ashamed and angry—but due to her suspicion, killing intent, and ferocity, she felt her desires being stirred.
Fine.
If I can’t endure it, I won’t.
Her other hand grasped Eivass’s neck, tilting her thumb so that Eivass, pinned to the bed, looked up: “What exactly do you want, and what do you want? Say it directly—and then pay the price.”
Her pupils gradually became tinged with a crimson halo, and her fangs began to sharpen.
Eivass, however, just stared at her, saying nothing.
But at that moment, a third person’s sigh suddenly came from the room.
“She’s trying to force me out, to make me explain myself.”
Beyad suddenly felt an extreme sense of crisis.
Her body instantly disintegrated into numerous bats, but she was too close to Eivass—her entire body was pressed against Eivass, putting them in zero physical contact.
At this distance, not a single bat could escape the prison of shadow.
Countless slender shadow threads stabbed out from the shadows beneath Eivass, darting back and forth in the room, piercing each bat and pinning it in mid-air.
Eivass’s flushed face showed a satisfied smile, and she lay casually on the bed.
The shadows beneath her and between the bed seams spread out like liquid, or like snakes on the bed.
Like a girl lying on the grass watching the stars, or just wanting a hug—she opened her arms upwards, reaching out to grasp something.
“You’ve been kidnapped by us, Miss Beyad.”
No. 14 smiled sweetly.
Update complete. As this is a large chapter of nearly four thousand words, it took a bit longer!
Requesting votes at the beginning of the month!
There are many events this month in the comment section. Don’t forget to check them out! There are rich prizes, including limited merchandise and autographs~
Next, a book recommendation. This book was written by a fellow reader, and it’s also about a beautiful girl. Please help to promote it~
