Time flowed with a peculiar viscosity in the dungeon’s soundless passage.
Furenna leaned against the cold wall, one hand unconsciously pressed against the dark, unknown box at her side,
the other slightly raised, maintaining an almost instinctive protective posture.
Her gaze never left Xiao Ling, asleep in the corner.
The cold remnants of the nightmare and the heavy sense of responsibility, intertwined with the intense unease brought by this suddenly appearing box,
pulled a string in Furenna’s heart tighter and tighter.
She dared not close her eyes, afraid that the bloody images would surge forth again upon closing them,
or that the quiet box might suddenly undergo some change.
An unknown amount of time passed before the small figure in the corner finally stirred,
emitting a faint, sleepy whimper.
Xiao Ling slowly opened her eyes. Her lake-green pupils blinked in confusion under the dim light, seemingly not grasping where she was for a moment.
When she saw Furenna sitting against the wall not far away, quietly watching her,
she quickly became more alert, hurriedly scrambling to her feet, somewhat flustered as she smoothed her wrinkled skirt and messy hair.
“Heroine Sister… you, you haven’t slept at all?”
Xiao Ling asked timidly, her voice still hoarse from sleep. She noticed Furenna’s unusually pale complexion and the faint shadows under her eyes.
“Awake?”
Furenna’s voice was somewhat dry. She tried to keep her tone steady.
“I’m fine. What about you? Did you sleep well?”
Her gaze swept over Xiao Ling, confirming that aside from exhaustion and residual fright, there were no new wounds or abnormalities.
Xiao Ling nodded, then quickly shook her head, lowering her eyes to look at her own fingers.
“I… I had a nightmare…”
She didn’t specify what she dreamt, but her hunched shoulders and red-rimmed eyes said it all.
Clearly, yesterday’s ordeal had also left deep psychological scars on this child.
A pang shot through Furenna’s heart. Her tone softened further.
“It was just a nightmare. It’s good that you’re awake now.
Getting proper rest, conserving your strength, is more important than anything.”
She paused, then added,
“You don’t need to worry too much about me.”
Xiao Ling raised her head, her eyes falling on the cold-colored collar around Furenna’s neck in the dim light. Her lips moved as if to say something,
tears welling up again, ultimately resulting in only a choked “Mm-hmm.”
“Wipe your face. Have some water.”
Furenna gestured towards the other small wooden bucket nearby, which still contained a little less than half a bucket of clean water—
left over from when Xiao Ling had brought it earlier to clean her wounds.
Xiao Ling obediently walked over, dampened a cloth with the water, wiped her face hastily, then carefully scooped a little water with her hands to drink.
Her movements were still stiff and cautious, but compared to the initial terror, there seemed a trace more of dependence.
In this place of despair, Furenna and this little girl were each other’s only “kind,” even if that connection was fragile and easily shattered.
After a brief silence, Xiao Ling spoke hesitantly.
“Heroine Sister… I… I should go to work.
If I’m not there on time… I’ll be found out and punished.”
Her voice grew smaller and smaller, filled with unease.
Furenna knew she was telling the truth.
As a “public maid,” Xiao Ling had fixed chores and patrol times within this fortress.
Lingering here for too long could indeed arouse suspicion and bring unnecessary trouble—
especially after yesterday’s “lesson.”
“Go on.”
Furenna nodded, her voice calm.
“Be careful. No matter what you hear or encounter,
don’t ask questions, don’t look too much, protect yourself.”
Her instructions were simple and direct, yet laden with heavy concern.
Xiao Ling nodded vigorously, another layer of moisture filming her lake-green eyes.
She walked to the cell door, glanced back at Furenna, her lips parting as if wanting to say some word of farewell or encouragement, but ultimately only let out a deep sigh.
She gently pulled the door open a crack.
Her thin, small figure slipped out agilely, disappearing into the corridor’s gloom outside.
The cell door closed again, separating inside from out.
The dungeon held only Furenna now, and the dark box lying quietly beside her.
Silence descended once more, but this time, there was only the sound of her own breathing and heartbeat,
and the faint yet persistent sense of connection from the collar around her neck.
Iris’s emotions seemed consistently placid, even somewhat… indifferent?
This allowed her a slight sigh of relief. At least for now, emotional fluctuations wouldn’t draw extra attention.
Her gaze fell upon the box once more.
The time had come.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the various conjectures and warnings churning within her.
Furenna brought the cold square box before her.
The box was still light in her hand. Its dark surface material showed a matte sheen under the dim green moss-light,
devoid of any patterns or markings, tightly sealed, with no apparent way to open it.
She carefully felt every surface, every corner of the box with her hands.
No keyhole, no button, no obvious seams.
Did it require specific magic or an incantation to open? But she currently possessed no power.
Just as Furenna was nearly ready to give up, considering whether to smash it open by force,
her fingertip accidentally pressed against an extremely tiny, almost seamlessly integrated depression on the bottom of the box.
Click.
A very subtle, mechanical sound.
The lid did not pop open, but at the center of the box’s top,
a point of extremely faint, almost imperceptible purple light suddenly appeared, like a firefly in the dark.
Immediately after, a faint yet refined magical pulse emanated from that light point, a gentle “probing” wave spreading out.
Alarm bells rang wildly in Furenna’s mind. Instinctively, she wanted to fling the box away, but her body felt temporarily “fixed” by a certain gentle force, unable to move.
A trap? A triggered attack spell?
However, the anticipated attack or pain did not arrive.
The magical pulse hovered and swirled for a moment around the space between her eyebrows.
Then, it swiftly penetrated her mind!
Not a physical penetration, but acting directly on her consciousness!
A clear, cold, specially cadenced female voice spoke directly into her mind,
not through her ears, but as if arising from thought itself:
“Brave Furenna, if you hear this message, it means you have made contact with the Blood Shadow Box.
Do not be alarmed. This is a one-way encrypted transmission. It will dissipate immediately after triggering, leaving no trace.”
Furenna’s heart lurched violently!
This voice… though she had only heard it a handful of times, she would never mistake it.
The vampire in the council hall, who had once fanned herself with a feather fan!
Cutting to the chase.
I harbor slight… reservations about Her Majesty’s somewhat overly aggressive teaching methods as of late.
Of course, this is not out of sympathy for you,
but a matter of principle.
Aviya’s voice continued in her mind, its tone retaining that aristocratic languor and a trace of barely perceptible mockery,
“More importantly, some of Her Majesty’s long-term plans conflict, in subtle ways, with certain interests of the Vampire Clan.
And a living Heroine, one harboring strong resentment, can, at certain specific moments, become an… interesting chess piece.”
Furenna’s heartbeat suddenly accelerated.
Betrayal from the Vampire Clan? Because of internal discord among the demons?
Or was all this merely another, more elaborate trap?
“In three days, the dungeon guard will change shifts.
The demon soldiers on rotation at that time are all under the covert control of my clan.
They will, coincidentally, be negligent for a brief moment.
The item within the box is a ‘Veil of Shadows.’ Once activated, it distorts light and weakens one’s aura for a short duration, sufficient for you to escape this cell and avoid ordinary patrols.”
The flow of information fluctuated slightly. A simple magical map appeared before Furenna’s eyes,
marking the dungeon’s location, a winding path, and coordinates for a rendezvous point in a relatively remote region within the fortress’s middle levels.
“Don the cloak, follow the indicated route, come to the Hall of Congealed Blood, and wait at the mouth of the third conduit.
I will meet you there. Remember, you have only one chance. The time window is short.
If discovered, if you fail to arrive on time…”
Aviya’s voice paused, taking on a hint of icy amusement.
“Then it would prove you lack even the value of a chess piece. The outcome… need not be elaborated.”
The voice ceased abruptly.
The image and voice in her mind receded like a tide, leaving not a single trace.
The faint purple light point on the box top also instantly extinguished.
Immediately after, the previously tightly sealed lid emitted an almost inaudible creak and automatically popped open a slight crack.
All this happened extremely fast. From the appearance of the magical pulse to the completion of the message transmission and the box opening, it took only two or three breaths.
Control of her body returned.
Furenna gasped sharply, fine beads of cold sweat appearing at her temples.
The experience just now had been too perilous—a transmission directly to her thoughts, and…
an “invitation” from a Vampire Clan Elder!
The Heroine steadied herself and looked at the opened box in her hand.
The box’s interior was lined with soft black velvet. Upon it lay a neatly folded garment.
The material looked very strange, neither cloth nor leather, possessing a semi-transparent, flowing-shadow-like quality.
Extremely subtle, wave-like patterns slowly swirled on its surface, almost undetectable unless one looked closely.
This was the “Veil of Shadows” Aviya had mentioned.
Furenna did not immediately touch the cloak.
Her heart beat heavily in her chest. Her mind raced.
A trap? The probability was extremely high.
Aviya was one of the Four Heavenly Kings, the Demon King’s right-hand. What reason could she have to betray?
The so-called “conflict of interests,” “personal amusement”… sounded more like a carefully fabricated excuse. The goal might precisely be to lure her into “escaping,”
then rightfully impose even crueler punishment on the grounds of “attempted escape,” all part of the Demon King Iris’s twisted amusement.
And the “Hall of Congealed Blood”… from its name alone, it was no benign place.
Yet, an opportunity… was not impossible.
The demon race was not monolithic. Internal strife was normal.
As a Vampire Clan Elder, Aviya had her own forces and interests to consider. Disagreements with the succubus-born Demon King were possible.
A captured Heroine like herself might indeed become some sort of bargaining chip in Aviya’s hands.
Furthermore, the method of information transmission, the precision of the box, all indicated this was not a trivial matter.
If it were a trap, why go to such lengths?
Wouldn’t it be simpler?
Risk versus Reward.
Failure meant almost certain death, potentially implicating Xiao Ling as well.
Success merely meant meeting Aviya, with an uncertain future—possibly escaping the wolf’s den only to enter the tiger’s lair.
Current Situation.
Remaining here, wearing this collar, having her will slowly crushed under the Demon King’s “teaching,”
monitored in everything, always facing more terrible punishment due to “poor learning progress,” possibly even implicating Xiao Ling, as Iris had hinted.
And Xiao Ling… how long could she remain safe in this demonic lair?
Furenna’s gaze fell upon the “Veil of Shadows.” Its semi-transparent material seemed to tempt her silently.
The Vampire Elder Aviya was right. Whether it was an opportunity or a trap, she had only one chance to try.
The time window was short. Discovery meant utter failure.
Her fingertips touched the cloak.
It felt like touching solidified night itself, almost weightless.
When Furenna applied slight pressure with her fingers, she could sense a gentle yet hidden magic power seeming to be contained within the fabric.
Finally, she gently picked up the cloak and unfolded it.
It was a loose, hooded robe-style garment, just capable of enveloping her entire form.
Holding the cloak, Furenna’s eyes gradually grew sharp and cold.
Fear still existed. Doubt had not diminished. But rather than passively waiting in this cage of despair,
enduring torment of unknown timing, watching Xiao Ling live in constant fear… it was better to… take a gamble.
The worst outcome was merely death.
And as she had thought before, if she, the Heroine, died, the Human Church could summon a new one.
Perhaps that could also count as a kind of release and… contribution?
But before that, Furenna would seize any possible shred of a chance to tear open this darkness,
to see whether behind it lay a deeper trap, or a sliver of… faint light.
She carefully refolded the Veil of Shadows, placed it back in the box, and closed the lid.
Then, she hid the box cautiously in a hard-to-notice crack in the wall.
Three days.
She needed time to observe, to confirm the guard change situation, to firmly engrave the map Aviya provided into her mind,
and also to let her heart, now in turmoil due to Iris and the collar’s influence, regain its calm.
The dungeon’s dim glow remained unchanged.
But deep within the dead-cold stillness of Furenna’s eyes, there now seemed a flicker of an extremely faint, gambler-like resolve,
slowly igniting.
She leaned lightly against the wall, closed her eyes, and began repeatedly tracing that escape route leading into the unknown in her mind,
as well as contemplating how to respond when facing that Vampire Elder renowned for both elegance and cruelty.