Alquett, hailed as the night’s strongest Hero—especially near-invincible under moonless darkness—harbored a pathological constitution.
She had to periodically consume fresh blood to sustain that power.
Prolonged deprivation withered her body, eroded her sanity, and plunged her into brief, frenzied states she called *Blood Frenzy*.
Abusing her strength during extreme emotions would exponentially drain her stored blood reserves, hastening the *Blood Frenzy*.
Ordinary humans lacked bloodlust, so Alquett once consulted the Church’s vampire bestiaries.
Yet she differed vastly from documented vampire monsters:
Her blood cravings were far less frequent than a true vampire’s dietary need; she moved freely under daylight and felt no aversion to holy magic or blessed water.
Moreover, she’d earned the allegiance of *Temperance*—one of the seven Holy Swords left by the God of Light, forged specifically to purge evil. That alone was irrefutable proof.
After exhaustive research, Alquett could only attribute her condition to a divine anomaly—publicly claiming it as the Night Goddess’s blessing.
Guilt-ridden over secretly preying on border-town citizens, she threw herself into quests, vanquishing evil with extra fervor to balance her sins.
She buried this vampiric secret deep within, a darkness known only to her late parents—who’d learned it firsthand during her childhood.
Afterward, shuffled between reluctant relatives, she grew up in an orphanage.
Alquett assumed her life would forever split in two:
By day, a radiant folk hero—Church-endorsed paragon, adored maiden adventurer.
By night, a white-haired bloodsucker in black robes, lurking in alleyways.
Victims typically lapsed into two-to-three-day comas, waking weak but unharmed if dosed carefully.
Her influence made them forget the attacks, their minds fabricating excuses like head injuries or flu.
Except Viola.
That new, vibrant teammate… brimming with youthful magic, radiantly alluring—both as a girl and as prey.
Even after Alquett’s most *generous* oral feeding session, Viola merely looked slightly pale and unsteady the next day.
With her nearby, Alquett would never need to stalk dark alleys again.
That’s why rescuing Viola burned so urgently in her heart.
Cheerful, mischievous yet kind, helpful—and uninterested in men.
Alquett often wondered: Was she the God of Light’s personal redemption sent just for her?
*“Viola…”*
---
Outside the bathhouse window, Lilith faced Alquett, who crouched on the floor in a bizarre posture.
After a careful appraisal, Lilith stepped forward, earnestly addressing the Hero:
“Miss Alquett, it’s late. Wandering the Darklord Citadel is dangerous. You might trip and damage the… flora. Please return to your cell.”
Alquett answered with a shrill battle cry:
“I’ll damage *you*!”
—and a lurching, feeble tackle.
Lilith sidestepped easily.
Alquett tumbled head over heels, her pupils bleeding crimson with hunger.
*“…So hungry… Food… I’ll devour you… drain you dry!”*
“Regrettably,” Lilith chirped, flashing sharp little fangs, “per Chapter 2, Section 8 of the Demon City Handbook—*Five Regulations for Healthy Living*—staff aren’t allowed midnight snacks. It causes weight gain! But don’t worry, breakfast will be delivered punctually tomorrow.”
She’d memorized the Dungeon Department’s entire employee manual during her first week—only to learn the “surprise quiz” threat was a joke. Finally, useful.
*“Hmph! Think I’ll fall for that cute act? You… beast in human skin! Wolf in sheep’s clothing! I know your filthy thoughts!”*
“My… thoughts?” Lilith blinked wide, innocent eyes, palms upturned.
*“You’ll drag me back to prison… bind me tight! Force me to watch as my holy robes tear… my sacred body exposed to monstrous beasts!”*
“Uh…”
*“Then… your cruel torture tools! Twisted methods to… ravish my body! Savoring my screams and tears while injecting mind-control drugs with thick needles… turning me into a slave like Viola! Sob… poor Viola…”*
Alquett stood panting, flushed and trembling—not from exertion, but from her own vivid fantasies.
Lilith stared, dumbfounded.
*…So this is the legendary Hero?*
“Wait—are you… reading too many dime novels?!”
How could she describe it so *graphically*?! And since when did fantasy-world drugs work like that?!
“No such thing happens! Viola’s actually fine—”
*“I won’t let you succeed! I’m the world-saving Hero! I won’t… fall here—!”*
“Alright, alright. It’s late. Let’s go back.”
Sighing, Lilith pulled rope from her pocket, binding Alquett’s wrists and ankles before hoisting her up with fluttering wings.
*“Ghk—put me down!”*
“Huh. You’re light…”
Dragging the squirming girl while flying low, Lilith felt no strain at all.
*Weird. I could barely lift myself earlier… Are humans this light? Or did my wings get stronger?*
---
“Ugh… This cell was scheduled for demolition anyway, but you *broke* the bars?”
Lilith frowned at the bent iron bars.
“Oh! Viola’s old cell just opened up. You’ll stay there tonight.”
She dragged the exhausted Alquett through winding corridors and shoved her into the new cell.
“Please don’t make noise. I’ve got an 8 a.m. shift tomorrow…”
Lilith yawned.
“And don’t try escaping. These walls and bars are rune-fortified. I don’t know the exact hardness, but you couldn’t break them like this.”
*“Dare to underestimate me? I am—”*
“Yeah, yeah. Strongest. Best.”
Lilith waved dismissively, already turning away.
*“Hey! Where are you going?! Where’s my torture interrogation?!”*
“Not in my job description. Also…” She glanced at an imaginary watch. “Way past clock-out time.”
*“Wha—?!”*
***CLANG!***
The cell door slammed shut, cutting off Alquett’s protests as Lilith’s footsteps faded.
---
*“Hss—”*
Midway to her room, Lilith winced. Her wrist throbbed.
Four deep scratches marred her pale skin, blood seeping into her palm.
*“Ow… Did that ‘Al-something’ Hero do this?”*
She must’ve been clawed during the struggle.
*Impressive. Even weakened, the “Night’s Strongest” can wound a Dragonkin’s wrist…*
But why did it only hurt now? And why hadn’t she noticed the bleeding earlier?
After bandaging it, Lilith shrugged.
*Eh. It’ll heal overnight. Unless it’s on the reverse scale, human-deep cuts don’t matter much to us.*
