A Surprising Encounter

Daphne had carefully unbuckled the cloak, taking care to hang the frost-covered fur cloak on a bone rack. She adjusted her dress and stockings slightly before sitting at the edge of the bed with a sigh of relief.

Grover had arranged a small chamber for her in the underground tunnel, furnished with a table, a chair, and a reasonably tidy bed. It seemed to have been cleaned, not too shabby or too luxurious. After all, it was a military camp, and this was probably the best Grover could offer a living person.

Thankfully, she had Arsuga’s Death Sigil, so even if her excuses were far-fetched, Grover had to respect someone holding the sigil.

Lying came with a racing heart, and maintaining composure was anything but easy. Alone now, Daphne felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She took off her small handbag and tossed it on the bed, eager to remove her shoes. Her pale cheeks flushed slightly as the half-blood girl lay half-reclined, lifting her skirt with her mouth.

‘It’s been such a long walk, I can’t take it anymore♡…’

She had endured for so long. Not letting Grover notice anything unusual was a miracle. Maybe she would need to practice pretending everything was fine in front of others; it could become a necessary skill.

Just as Daphne was about to release some tension, a knock at the door startled her, nearly causing her to gasp for breath. She quickly straightened her skirt and fixed her disheveled hair, slipping her feet back into her shoes and assuming a composed sitting position.

“Come in,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

After a while, the door opened, and a small-framed girl in a maid’s uniform pushed it open, backing into the room with a wooden tray. On the tray was a small bone box.

“Excuse me, are you a messenger from Lord Arsuga? I hope I haven’t come to the wrong room,” the young maid asked timidly, looking at Daphne sitting on the bed.

“That’s correct. What is it?” Daphne replied, her tone still indifferent.

“Miss, you’re so beautiful… Ah, I mean, I’m here to deliver something. Lord Grover instructed me to—”

“Place it on the table, and you can leave,” Daphne interrupted the stumbling maid, pointing to the small table by the bed.

“Yes, miss,” the maid nodded repeatedly.

She carried the tray into the room, passing by Daphne, who took the opportunity to examine the maid, who looked out of place in the camp of the undead.

The maid had long black hair pulled back into a low ponytail, bright and clear black eyes, and a small, round, delicate face. Her white stockings covered slender legs, and she appeared to be only twelve or thirteen years old, perhaps not even reaching five feet. Yet, she was an undead.

Her skin was smooth and fine, indistinguishable from a living person, with no signs of decay or unsightly death marks. Her pale face and neck hinted at a faint hint of life, suggesting she had undergone a special resurrection ritual.

Daphne had heard that such rituals allowed liches to retain their youthful appearance, but the cost was eternal limitation on their magical abilities. A lich’s lifespan was already extended for magical study, and this ritual seemed counterproductive.

Normal liches wouldn’t choose this path, as they became undead to extend their research time. This ritual was more often used to create immortal slaves, preventing them from escaping.

Killing a girl at such a young age, resurrecting her with this ritual, and trapping her soul in a phylactery, ensuring she remained forever youthful and adorable. It was a twisted taste.

But Grover likely kept this lich maid for menial tasks. A group of skeletons wouldn’t have such needs. Perhaps her best place would be in Klogotia, where everyone was undead or aspiring to be, and no one would see her as an outcast.

“Miss, what is your name?” the maid asked, not leaving as instructed, but approaching Daphne with a playful tone.

Daphne thought for a moment before answering, “Daphne.”

She had considered using a fake name, but realized she wouldn’t stay long and would soon return to human society under another identity. Her half-blood name wasn’t that important, so she told the girl truthfully.

“Daphne miss, will you be staying here for a while?” The maid’s black eyes sparkled with anticipation as she looked at Daphne, her gaze filled with some unspoken hope.

“I…” Daphne just wanted her to leave; being interrupted was truly frustrating. “Maybe, just for a short time.”

“If you have any needs, please let me know. Lord Grover instructed me to take care of your daily needs,” the maid said, her shyness gone, revealing a more lively nature. “Oh, right, I’m Hedy, the maid here, assigned to do various tasks by Lord Grover.”

Daphne felt a blush rise, “Hedy, if there’s nothing else…”

Her words trailed off as she noticed Hedy’s expression and gaze had changed. Her pale cheeks flushed, and her once clear eyes now seemed distant and unfocused. The maid took small, hesitant steps closer.

Daphne wanted to back away, but the bed was against the wall, leaving her no escape.

“Yah♡!”

Before Daphne could react, the lich maid pounced on her, pinning her arms above her head. Hedy’s body was light and soft, her hair emitting a faint, cool scent mixed with an unnatural chill.

As if Daphne was an irresistible delicacy, Hedy buried her face in Daphne’s chest and neck, inhaling deeply before licking every inch of her skin with a wet, cold tongue. Daphne couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

“Mmm♡… Please, let me go♡…”

She couldn’t struggle. Her arms were immovable.

Although Hedy appeared small, she was at least a tenth-level mage, easily overpowering Daphne, who had no profession or level. While Daphne could use her words to deceive the undead commander, she couldn’t intimidate a lust-driven s*ave maid.

A slight push from Hedy was enough to throw Daphne off balance. Her hair ribbon came undone, cascading down like a waterfall. Hedy’s dark red lips parted slightly as she fixated on Daphne’s softly panting, rosy lips, leaning in to claim her first kiss.

“First kiss in crisis!?”