Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Special Elite Adventure Club (3)
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I definitely saw it. The spell Ophelia had tried to use at first was the same type as Sita's—blood magic.
Ronan opened his mouth as if entranced by something.
"...Pass."
He didn't even feel like asking interview questions. Ophelia slowly turned her head upon hearing the word "pass." Her white skin, contrasting with her red eyes, seemed not just pale but almost transparent.
The moment he saw that contrast, a certain race flashed in Ronan's mind. One of the three beings he suspected had influenced Sita. The race that had failed to coexist with humans in the past and eventually left imperial territory to establish their own kingdom.
"Ophelia. By any chance..."
Unable to contain his curiosity, Ronan was about to ask when Ophelia's voice echoed in his head.
[...You saw it after all.]
It was telepathy magic. It was audible only to Ronan, not Adeshan. Ophelia continued.
[You're thinking of what I think you are... But keep it a secret for now.]
Even her telepathic voice was cautious. Ronan gave a small nod. Ophelia let out a sigh of relief.
[Thank you.]
She approached slowly after replying. Sita stared at Ophelia with wide eyes.
"Pya?"
"Can I... touch you then?"
It was like a child asking if they could eat the candy in their hand. Ronan scanned Ophelia's face and nodded.
He now perfectly understood what kind of people Sita liked.
"Yeah, sure... She'll probably like it."
"...Hehe."
Ophelia grinned bashfully and reached out to touch Sita. Sita rubbed her face against Ophelia's hand without any resistance.
"Pyaa~"
What a consistent little creature. With the interview wrapped up, Ronan left the First Arena with Ophelia. He had a ton of questions.
After exiting Gallerion Hall, they headed to the grand plaza. It was empty of passersby, with strong winds blowing—perfect for a private conversation.
"Can you talk here?"
"Yeah."
"Didn't your entire race leave the Empire?"
Ophelia didn't answer. The wind filled the silence in her place. It wasn't until they'd walked a few more minutes that her telepathy rang in Ronan's head again.
[...Not all of them.]
"I see. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."
[No. There are still a tiny number of vampires living secretly across the Empire. I'm the only one who entered Phileon Academy.]
"No one else knows?"
[Just Principal Kratir and a few professors. Getting found out would only lead to trouble.]
Ophelia fell silent. She didn't explain her background or how she'd entered Phileon. Ronan didn't pry further. Sensing the mood growing heavy, he changed the subject.
"Honestly, you joined for Sita, not the club, right?"
[Yeah.]
"I like the honesty. But it's not just because she's cute, is it? What's the real reason?"
[I sensed the aura of our race's magic... blood magic.]
With that, Ophelia raised her index finger. A rose made of blood formed atop her slender finger. Sita, perched on Ronan's shoulder, craned her neck and her eyes sparkled.
"Pya!"
Suddenly, Sita's eyes glowed brightly. The rose's shape crumpled and reformed into a bird resembling Sita. The blood bird was absorbed straight into Sita's feathers. Ophelia stroked Sita with a smile.
[As I thought.]
"So that monster trick with the bug shell is called blood magic, huh."
[Yeah. It's just so amazing... It's been ages since I felt blood mana, but for a non-vampire to use blood magic... How does it work?]
Her tone carried the curiosity of scholars in discussion. She oddly reminded him of the werewolf blacksmith Didikan. As Ophelia fiddled with Sita's wings, she tilted her head.
[But what kind of animal is she...? She has four wings, just like Lord Orse.]
"She's a Dream Bird, a phantom species. I don't know how she ended up like this, but she can manipulate blood."
Ronan explained the Dream Bird's traits and how he'd met Sita. Ophelia's eyes widened at the news that Sita was not yet two months old.
"Two months...?"
"Yeah. Is there a problem?"
"Wait... But she just manipulated the shape of blood...?"
"...Was that surprising? She's done even more impressive stuff."
Ronan recounted Sita's feats. In the fight with Dolan, she'd worsened his bleeding to create an opening. In Gran Cappadocia, she'd manipulated the survivors' blood on a massive scale to form a pillar signaling their location.
With each story, Ophelia's expression gradually hardened. Her sharp fangs glinted between her parted lips. Sita, watching her worriedly, suddenly lit up her eyes.
"Pye."
A single blood rose appeared before Sita's eyes—perfectly identical to the one Ophelia had made. Sita bit it like a gift and offered it to her.
"Oh my god...!"
"What's wrong?"
"This is... incredible. Her name's Sita, right...?"
Ronan nodded. An excited voice escaped Ophelia's lips. Emotions began creeping onto her usually expressionless face.
"Maybe... just maybe this child could make it possible. Um, could I ask a favor...?"
"Go ahead."
"Could I have some of this child's blood... no, just a few feathers?"
"Feathers?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow. He suddenly recalled chasing after Baren with Dream Bird Marfez's feathers. Ophelia pleaded.
"I wasn't planning to participate, just research... but I'll join in earnestly. So, three—no, just two... please."
"Calm down. What for?"
"For researching new blood magic. I have a feeling this time. When we get back, I'll teach her too... okay?"
"...Teach her magic? To Sita?"
Ronan's eyes widened. It was an intriguing offer. He'd already noticed Sita learned and adapted incredibly fast.
'Yeah, even the densest idiots get smart once they learn...'
The issue was that her magic was so bizarre no one could teach her. Having a blood magic teacher in this situation was highly appealing. Ronan stroked Sita and asked.
"Sita, you okay with that?"
"Pye."
Sita nodded. After vetting Ophelia's ideology, Ronan plucked three feathers for her. Ophelia took them with trembling hands.
"Thank you... But what does Ahayute... mean?"
"It's the name of a monkey with hemorrhoids."
"Weird name... Anyway, thank you. I'll definitely come back..."
Ophelia turned and walked away. Soon, a silver bat rose from the shadows cast by Gallerion Hall and took flight.
The bat flew westward at speeds rivaling birds of prey. Gazing at it until it blended with the stars, Ronan muttered.
"...She'll be fine, right?"
****
Training continued daily. Fortunately, the club members participated eagerly. Otherwise, Ronan would've hunted them down with Lamancha in hand.
They threw every spare moment into training at the Nest. With talent and passion backing them, their growth was rapid.
"What, this isn't working? Just whoosh in and slash!"
"Hahaha! I'd love to whoosh and slash your head! You calling me a donkey?!"
"Hold it together, Braum."
"I don't get it. Let's try again. Twist your waist and whoosh like this!"
Ronan taught them with all his effort. Of course, he had zero talent as an educator, even as empty flattery.
To Ronan, who could mimic any martial art after seeing it once, Marya and Braum's slowness seemed like a disability.
"In my eyes, it's all lack of effort. Let's see who wins."
Failing to teach, Ronan introduced a penal training system. Keep going until you get it—via beatings. But he couldn't pummel fledglings with no blood on their heads yet, so he substituted with hellish conditioning.
"Huff... how many laps... is this?!"
"Stamina's key. Without it, nothing works. Plus, better stamina means longer training."
"Wahaha! Mercy!"
Ronan trained strength alongside stamina. Soon, they became Nest celebrities. No one used the facilities more diligently.
Daily grind brought physical changes. One day after training, Marya called Asel.
"Cutie, feel this."
"Huh? Uh?"
"Don't pull away. Come on."
Marya grabbed Asel's hand and placed it on her abs. Through her sweat-soaked shirt, it felt like touching stone. Marya wiped sweat and grinned.
"Well? Impressive, right? Love how firm it's getting."
Asel couldn't sleep that night. Braum loved showing off too, but after three nighttime monster reports, he toned it down.
After a fortnight, Marya could demonstrate Imperial swordsmanship with her greatsword. The next day, she brought early completion cert for the class.
"Azar! Saw that?!"
"Good work. Next, unarmed combat."
"Aaaah!"
The next day, Braum cleared mid-level unarmed combat early. The instructor praised his overwhelming achievement among second-years.
"Wahaha! Especially my toughness stood out! Thanks to you all!"
"Not bad, Braum!"
"Gah!"
Thwack! Braum's legs buckled from Marya's habitual punch. But he didn't collapse like before.
Ronan nodded intriguingly. Maybe Braum suited something else than greatsword—like one-handed sword and giant shield.
'Wonder when that guy's coming back.'
Over a fortnight passed, but Schlieffen hadn't returned. Rumors swirled of a massive purge in House Grancia.
Naviroje shared that info from Cirilla and Dolan was documented and reported upward.
"His Majesty seems aware now. Rumor has it a special unit targeting only Nebula Klazi is about to form."
"Things'll get messier."
"Yeah. So what've you been up to, running around? Baren's worried sick."
"Prepping to run around, actually. Secret as your pajamas, Instructor."
Ronan's screams echoed in the First Arena. For days, he feared showing his ears.
Ten days later, Marya and Braum each cleared two more classes early. They pinned their certs on the club's corkboard.
"Third one!"
"Mine's fourth!"
"Great job, everyone."
Ronan clapped. Their schedules now matched Ronan's and Asel's. Adjusted, the whole club had five days free, weekends included.
"Finally ready to go."
Letters came regularly from Ophelia. Three days ago, one said final stages—but they couldn't wait forever.
Time to depart. Ronan contacted the "Pale Horse" guild—the only one renting ghost horses that rode the wind.
Planning revealed Baidian was half a day away on ghost horse. Costly, sure, but the academy's problem, not his.