Dining with the Vampire
"Pietsha, feeling better now?"
"Yes. So please, get rid of that adorable look you're giving me—it's most unbecoming."
"What a shame. I won't get to see a pureblood vampire all messed up for much longer."
"...You really can be such a tease sometimes."
Pietsha puffed out her cheeks as she straightened the folds of her shower robe. Better not push it any further, or she'll really get mad. Of course, she had good reason to feel queasy. This body of mine has a 'core' in place of a heart, producing what amounts to fake blood. To a vampire, that must be the worst kind of food imaginable.
But if that was the case, she should've held back a little. I'd been uneasy ever since she started clinging to me so excessively. I gave a wry smile and focused on my fork.
After our bath, plates of food were being placed one by one on the table where Pietsha and I sat. The old butler set down a dish and said softly,
"Silver snow mousse. It's light in texture to avoid weighing down your palate."
Moments later, a soup with faint wisps of steam was served.
"Rocknard mountain mushroom soup. Deeply aromatic, yet clear and easy on the stomach."
"Thank you."
Judging by the food quality alone, this wasn't some dingy back-alley joint—it was on par with a nobleman's villa. Each plate even featured specialties from different regions.
"Your branch offices aren't in the restaurant business, yet every place I go has this level of prep. Are you using top-tier subspace storage...?"
Once or twice might be coincidence, but at this point, it was starting to freak me out. The subordinates' service was too sincere.
Pietsha chuckled softly as she tilted her teacup filled with blood.
"Think about everything you've done for us. This doesn't even begin to cover it."
Well, I haven't done that much in my current state. More importantly, there was something else to address. I slowed my fork and got to the point.
"So, Pietsha. You have no idea what the Black Star Officers plan to do at the academy?"
"That's right. Detailed orders usually only go to Grade 1 inquisitors."
"Hmm, I see."
I had no clue what the Inquisition might do. Not my place to say, but they were a massive variable not in the original story. Still, one thing was certain: the academy couldn't block their entry outright. The Goddess Church, which had half-devoured this kingdom from the shadows, was like a force of nature.
That said, I couldn't picture the Inquisition turning the academy upside down. They'd be insane to go up against the premier educational institution intertwined with countless noble houses. At most, patrols and investigations within bounds. Limited inspections, probably.
...Or so I hoped. I gathered my thoughts and resumed eating.
"Let's have our informants at the academy prepare more thoroughly. My side should be fine."
Pietsha gave a small laugh at my conclusion.
"You think so? Well, you do have this mask, after all."
She picked up the white mask from the side table.
"Exactly. I really need to treat Selnia well."
The mask Selnia had created via her heart manifestation and handed over. With that, most detection spells were no issue. Though it wouldn't fool the 'Inquisition Bells' used by Grade 1 inquisitors to spot possessors.
The old butler reappeared, placing a new plate down. A white fish grilled to golden perfection, drizzled thinly with butter sauce.
"Butter-glazed Karins fish. Prepared mild and clean for your enjoyment."
A piece of the crisped flesh melted in my mouth, releasing savory juices first, followed by the sauce's tangy acidity to cut the richness. The artistry made my lips curve upward involuntarily. Selnia must be feeling pretty jealous right now, scarfing down instant meals while rushing here.
"Where's Selnia at now?"
"She passed the lawless city of Belmars yesterday."
"Whoa, she's moving faster than I thought. She'll make it by orientation day at this rate."
"Hehe, it's been ages since she had a chance to work with you."
"Three years on long-term dispatch won't be easy. Tell her no early outs—she's gotta steel herself."
Pietsha narrowed her eyes in a smile.
"I'll pass it on. She'll grumble outwardly but love it inside."
"Good to hear."
As the moist meat dissolved on my tongue, the butler brought the next course. Lifting the silver lid released a rich, intense aroma that assaulted my nose.
"Main course: red deer sirloin steak. Medium-rare per the executive's preference. Served with Torev potato puree and Rekon sauce."
Slicing into the meat revealed red juices seeping from the cross-section. The first bite brought smoky char and deep umami, with spices cleaning up the finish.
"...Pietsha, let's give the butler a generous bonus."
"I was planning to anyway. Seeing you eat so heartily makes me happy too."
More courses followed. Palate cleansers and warm tea dazzled the senses until my stomach reached full capacity. The butler set down the final dessert plate.
"Marina port specialty fruit in clear jelly."
No matter how stuffed, there's always room for dessert, right? The jelly vanished in seconds.
"Hehe, you must've had a rough day. You ate way more than usual."
"Yeah, plus I skipped lunch sleeping. I feel alive again thanks to this."
"Hmm~ Is that so? Might be overeating, then. How about a digestive aid?"
In the blink of an eye, Pietsha was behind me, draping an arm over my shoulder and shyly offering something from her pocket. A vial of murky black liquid.
"...I'm fu—"
Inappropriate speech detected. Auto-correction in progress.
"...How is that a digestive aid? It looks more likely to bring everything back up."
I averted my gaze on reflex the moment I saw the hideous vial.
"But Erchera insisted you take it. It's poisonously potent, so best after meals, right?"
"I'd rather drink actual poison."
"The effects are guaranteed, though?"
True enough. That sister's potions were miraculously effective. The problem was their devastating taste.
"I hate to do this to you after such a delicious meal..."
"Hide your expression. Why are you grinning like you can't bear to suffer alone? The bathroom incident was your fault!"
"Busted. But... doesn't sharing the pain make it better?"
Pietsha massaged my shoulders soothingly. Her other hand, clutching the vial, was rock-steady.
I stubbornly refused. With a short sigh and a regretful shake of her head, Pietsha relented.
"No helping it, then. I wasn't going to bring this up..."
A ominous statement. With a slight smirk, she trailed a finger along my nape.
"How exactly did you take down D-53?"
"!"
My breath caught. Outwardly, thanks to the module, my face barely twitched. But we'd known each other too long.
Pietsha read my reaction like a ghost.
"D-53 was a Grade 2 inquisitor rivaling 4th Hierarchy strength. Yet he was perfectly subdued without raising a fuss."
She pressed my right palm firmly, driving the point home.
"You used that power, didn't you?"
I'd hoped to play it off naturally, but no dice. She was already convinced. Denying it was pointless.
"...Busted."
I raised my hands in surrender, and Pietsha flashed a victorious smile.
"That power has heavy backlash, so you promised—in front of all eight of us—to take Erchera's potion right after."
Her tone was playful, but I saw the worry in her eyes.
In the end, I had no choice but to nod.
"Right. I'll take it now."
With grim resolve, I accepted the vial. Deep breath. Uncorked it. The stench hit, and I looked up at Pietsha.
"On second thought, I can substitute with inventory potions for level 1 effects—"
"Hang in there. I'll prepare sweet tea and dessert."
My final struggle fell on deaf ears. I ended up like Pietsha in the bathroom. That hellish bitterness only faded after chugging several cups of tea.
"Hoo... hoo... Finally feeling human."
It was like dying and coming back. Still, my condition had noticeably improved. Hate to admit it, but the effect was top-tier.
I sighed faintly and picked up Selnia's mask.
"Heading to pick up your acceptance certificate?"
Pietsha didn't doubt my admission for a second. No point in false modesty.
"Yes. Certificates are good till noon tomorrow, but better apply for dorms early."
"Got it. You'll just apply and come back here?"
"Of course. Why leave such a great place? Sleep here and enter the academy tomorrow evening."
Getting the certificate didn't mean immediate entry. Tomorrow was a holiday and dorm assignment day; orientation followed. Students had till noon tomorrow's roster to use temp academy lodging or fend for themselves. Inns in the city were probably booked solid by now.
Lucky me. That's the power of connections.
"Plus, it's been ages since I've spent time with you, Pietsha. I want to savor it."
"Good answer. That's a pass too."
Pietsha nodded in satisfaction, adjusting her shower robe before changing.
"Oh, coming with?"
"Naturally. Let's stroll back."
"Sounds great. Happy to have you by my side."
"...Hmph, don't toss those words around lightly. You might regret it later."
Moments later, at the academy gate. Amid the bustling students as expected, I calmly received my acceptance certificate.
Exam passed. As anticipated. But the overall ranking stamped on it made me doubt my eyes.
Way off my expectations. Pietsha, peering over, widened hers slightly too.
After dorm application, we headed straight back. Having spent recent time as 'Harné Astel' at the Astel barony, I now had a precious day to relax and prepare fully.
===
The next day, as the sun dipped and darkness fell, I stood before the gate, sunset at my back.
Ten years. The moment I'd waited a decade for was here.
The stage for the main story's early-to-mid arc: Kalsea Academy. My journey here had just begun.
"Next student, please."
The line was short—most had entered already. My turn came quickly. I handed my certificate to the gate staff.
He skimmed it lazily at first, then his eyes and hand froze at the bottom. Alternating between the paper and my face, he straightened up.
"...Lady Harné Astel. Identity confirmed."
He stamped it with a barely used seal from the corner.
Gesturing back, another staffer hurried over.
"Lady Harné Astel. This way, please."
He returned the certificate and led on. I followed into the dorm zone.
A tall central building flanked by two gently curving ones in a massive 'U' shape. That was the first-year dorm cluster: lower, mid, upper.
Students with luggage headed there uniformly. But the staffer didn't stop, passing right by.
Naturally, eyes followed. I was the only one veering off with an escort.
I ignored the stares and kept walking. Past the three buildings, up a gentle hill to a stately stone manor. It could pass for a noble villa or small estate. The vibe was worlds apart from standard dorms.
The staffer halted before it and bowed politely.
"This is the first-year top-tier dormitory. Check your room number in the first-floor lobby."
"Understood. Thank you for the guidance."
As he left, I glanced at my certificate again. Unlike others' red stamps, mine bore blue.
A chuckle escaped. I'd expected top-class placement after a standard individual match. But the team score must've boosted me big-time.
Harné Astel. Martial Division #9. Top-tier class assignment.
Nearly my theoretical max score. This changed things for the better. My primary plan was clawing into top-tier class.
Major academy events mostly exploded there. Best spot to steer the original plot.
Of course, with this frail body and power, holding it would be tough. But I'd give it my all.
I pocketed the certificate and opened the gate.
First-year top-tier dormitory. Space for just 20 out of the year. It lived up to the name.
Modern lounge blending stone and wood. Cozy library nook under warm lights. Plush armchairs, display cases, mini-gardens filling the space. Designed to stoke rank rivalry.
I scanned lightly, then handed my certificate to lobby staff. Quick check, and he handed over a key.
"Room 201."
Nice, second floor. My grip tightened instinctively. For these frail legs, floor count mattered.
Bigger gamble: roommate. Fixed two-per-room by gender. Life quality for months hinged on it.
Tension and anticipation in hand, I reached the second floor. 201 right there.
Gacha time. Key in, turn, door open slow.
Spacious living room first. Private rooms left and right. Rear terrace. Like a modern home transplanted.
What greeted me first wasn't a person. Heat.
"?"
Steam billowed as the door opened. My brow furrowed on reflex. Hot vapors poured from the front bathroom—like someone had just taken a scorching bath.
And then. The slightly ajar door swung wide. A girl with a towel on her head popped out.
"Oh! You!"
Her eyes rounded at me. Her parted lips bloomed into a bright grin.
"Harné! No way—you're my roommate?!"
"Yes. Nice to meet you, Runes."
Recognizing her face, I relaxed and smiled back. Objectively, Runes was a jackpot. Plus, I'd adored her since game days.
One issue, though. Her impulse control around cute things was disastrously low.
And I'd sensed it exam morning. She'd already marked me as potential prey.
Now that prey had walked right into roommate status.
Runes's eyes sparkled. Unable to contain her joy, she charged straight at me.
With just a towel on her head.
W-wait a sec—