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Chapter – 10
Guard Odel looked at the man standing before him.
“Young Master Zekiel.”
At only nineteen, Zekiel Hildet, the youngest senior healer and the chosen successor of the Hildet family, had summoned Odel.
Why would the man at the center of the family’s power want anything from him?
Watching Odel bow far deeper than necessary to curry favor, Zekiel curled a faint sneer on his lips.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Odel, sir!”
“Right. I heard the conversation you just had with Eleanor.”
Odel blinked. He couldn’t understand what Zekiel meant.
It had already been seven years since Eleanor Hildet had fallen to the status of the family’s outcast.
The only reason a mere guard like Odel could glare at her and question where she’d been was because the entire household tacitly allowed it.
Sometimes, repeated tolerance hardens into an unspoken rule — and people stop noticing how unnatural it is.
Seeing Odel behave exactly like that, Zekiel frowned and clicked his tongue.
“Idiot.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Eleanor Hildet is my sister. Did you think your attitude was appropriate?”
“Ah—! I-I’m sorry!”
Only after hearing it directly did Odel seem to regain his senses.
Zekiel looked down at the trembling man with open contempt.
To Odel, this scolding was baffling — Zekiel had never once pitied Eleanor in seven years.
But a servant’s standing could collapse at a master’s whim, so Odel merely bowed his head instead of making excuses.
“That’s enough.”
Zekiel spoke coldly, his expression sharpening his already harsh tone.
“The way you treated Eleanor just now was extremely rude. Do you admit it?”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
“But…”
Zekiel smiled at the still-confused Odel.
“Eleanor’s attitude wasn’t very pleasant either.”
“Pardon?”
“Isn’t that so? Even if you were somewhat rude, you had no choice but to point out her faults. Right?”
“Uh…?”
“You really have no sense.”
Clicking his tongue again, Zekiel leaned closer and growled quietly.
“I’m saying we’ll consider it as though you were unfairly mistreated by Eleanor.”
That wasn’t true.
Rather, it meant: I will treat it as though that were the case.
Confusion crossed Odel’s face. He thought he understood — which made it worse.
“…What should I do?”
“Simple.”
Zekiel smiled.
“It seems Eleanor still hasn’t realized her mistake. So have a sincere conversation with her.”
“A sincere… conversation?”
“Take this.”
Zekiel tossed him a small pouch. Odel caught it reflexively.
Inside were a small key, a gold coin, and a vial filled with blue liquid.
“It’s the key to Eleanor’s room. A light threat should make her understand her place.”
Zekiel remembered Eleanor’s unwavering gaze from the previous day and ground his teeth.
“Ah, you obtained the title of youngest senior healer. Impressive.”
“You…!”
“Didn’t you once claim to have supreme healing power?”
She had pretended innocence — and finally showed her fangs.
Yes. Zekiel had taken Eleanor’s supreme healing power. So what?
Even if his first step borrowed her power, becoming the youngest senior healer was his achievement.
If she truly possessed great healing talent, she would have distinguished herself afterward.
Her continued mediocrity only proved she was nothing more than someone who broke after her first setback.
That was what Zekiel believed — which made her attitude infuriating.
Does she think my position belongs to her now?
Perhaps partly true.
He refused to acknowledge it.
He wanted to see her disgrace herself at the entrance examination. That would erase the last trace of jealousy.
Probably just beginner’s luck when she was ten.
He clicked his tongue lightly and smiled again at Odel.
“The potion will transform you into a yellow-horned goblin.”
“A yellow-horned goblin?”
Odel stared blankly.
“I’m giving you time to ‘talk’ with her. You can grant me this small favor.”
“Of course.”
Odel nodded eagerly, then cautiously asked,
“I’ve never really had a conversation before… Could you tell me what counts as conversation?”
“Well. A deep stab is conversation. A shallow cut is conversation. As long as she’s alive, words can be exchanged.”
“I worry the family may be troubled if the young lady is too hurt.”
“Would someone refuse the exam because their feelings were hurt?”
Zekiel laughed. Odel laughed with him.
As long as she could participate in the healer entrance exam in six days, anything was permitted.
“Carry a sword. You must protect yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The potion also boosts strength briefly. Even if she resists, you can ‘talk’ plenty.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Teaching my sister manners is my duty.”
Zekiel smiled brightly.
Whatever Odel thought, he would disguise himself as a yellow-horned goblin and threaten Eleanor.
Since a sword had been mentioned, threats were guaranteed — and likely worse.
Fear of the goblin would be deeply carved into the fragile Eleanor.
I look forward to her face when she sees one again at the exam.
Coincidentally, Zekiel would be working near the test site that day.
If he finished quickly and came to watch, he could witness and mock her.
A satisfied smile lingered on his lips as Odel walked away.
* * *
Night fell into deep darkness.
Curled in the narrow attic, Eleanor struggled to maintain her sanity.
The dark herb inside her released demonic energy, trying to seize her mind.
…I can endure.
Blood seeped from her bitten lips. The sting hurt — yet the metallic taste thrilled her body.
Demonic energy was closest to death.
The best method to tame it was her own blood.
She guided the energy through her body, trying to loosen its grip on her heart.
But it’s not enough.
The momentum weakened but didn’t vanish.
Demonic energy was never suited for the living.
To hold death and life together, life had to subdue death.
She focused again.
Her blood only suppressed it temporarily. Before it surged back, she needed to assimilate as much as possible.
Only one day.
She had asked Lora to buy her just a day.
More time would raise suspicion within the family.
Killing more would hasten assimilation — but pointless slaughter would draw attention.
She closed her eyes again.
Then—
Click.
The rusty lock opened. The door turned.
An intruder entered and shut it behind him.
“Well now, sleeping here?”
At the frivolous voice, the brief moment of control ended.
The demonic energy surged toward the intruder’s death — and her body followed.
“Keheh, my la—Ghk!”
He collapsed instantly.
“Ha… haa…!”
Cold energy coursed through her veins.
The pleasure of killing belonged more to the unassimilated demonic power than to Eleanor.
But she had no intention of sparing him.
Her emotionless black eyes stared at the intruder — a yellow-horned goblin.
“Black Blade.”
“Sp-spare—khk!”
The black blade from her hand sliced his neck cleanly.
He trembled and died instantly.
The blood droplets vanished into her body instead of the floor.
She ignored it.
“Not a goblin.”
Goblins didn’t speak so well.
Searching the body, she found a gold coin, a key, and an empty vial.
“A disguised assassin?”
She frowned.
She had shown no talent or threat worth killing — and the intruder was weak.
Even enhanced by a potion, he could barely control the power.
Had he used it properly, he might have lasted two exchanges longer.
“…Should I thank you?”
She smiled coldly at the corpse.
Because she killed him, the demonic energy from the dark herb quickly accepted her as kin — something that normally would have taken far longer.
The darkness began settling into her body.
