Choice

What would you do?
The question had haunted Selina for ages. In her past life, she’d answered with a bloodstained dagger. Now, it loomed again.

As Avia’s power spiraled out of control, her domain shattered, returning them to the conference room.

The table lay in ruins—shattered dishes, spilled broth reflecting flickering candlelight, the air thick with blood. “Kill her,” a voice whispered. “Living is torture for her. End it quickly—she shouldn’t exist.” A shadowy figure, “Kant,” emerged from the darkness, his rough, one-armed grip on Selina’s right hand urging her crystal sword toward the trembling girl on the floor.

Yes, kill her. Avia had struck first, humiliated a princess—death was mercy.

Selina stepped closer, Avia defenseless, her life an easy claim. Kill her, kill her… The pressure on her arm intensified.

The sword’s edge rested on Avia’s delicate neck—then a flash of white light and a sigh snapped Selina awake. “Kant’s” illusion shattered, vanishing.

She saw Avia’s blood-tears, her blade poised to end her. Horror flooded Selina; she’d nearly lost herself to some insidious influence. Silver flames enveloped her, illuminating the room as she sheathed her sword, panting. “I… was manipulated.”

The doors burst open. Ceris pulled Selina behind her, while Helos rushed to Avia, cradling her feverish, thrashing body.

Judging the blood frenzy, Helos slit her wrist without hesitation, feeding Avia her blood to stabilize her.

But Avia’s thirst was insatiable; Helos paled, swaying. Even if I give my life, it won’t be enough…

“Let me,” Selina said, stepping forward. Helos turned, stunned, as Selina’s elven scent soothed the chaos.

“Your Highness…”

“No questions. This isn’t free.” Selina tossed a purple recording stone.

“Everything your princess said and did is on this. I’ll save her—but there’s a price.”

Helos nodded frantically.

Selina sighed, taking the knife, slicing her wrist, and pouring her fragrant blood into Avia’s mouth.

The crimson veins and blotches faded; Avia’s face softened into peaceful slumber. Selina’s gaze was complex.

Avia had been selfish, cruel, scheming—but never lethal. She’d imprisoned, not killed. That restraint, born of a fractured past, was why Selina saved her. A pitiful soul, twisted by fate, but not beyond redemption.

Releasing Avia’s jaw, Selina stood, heading for the door.

A thud—Helos knelt, blood eyes brimming with gratitude. “The Blood Clan will never forget this debt!” Selina paused, sighing like a weary elder. “I’ve done my part. Keep tonight secret. I hold your princess’s leverage—don’t test me. When the elven flowers bloom, tell her to heed herself. Don’t become the monster she once despised.”

She left without looking back, Ceris closing the door. Under cover of night, they returned to the freshman dorms.

The mixer had ended; streets were silent save for magical lamps.

Halfway, a gaunt figure blocked their path, half-shrouded in shadow, his sunken green eyes lifeless, voice raspy with coughs. “Late night stroll instead of resting?”

Selina smiled brightly. “Sorry, teacher. New here, exploring with a friend. We’re heading back now.” She bowed, passing him. He watched silently until they vanished, then muttered, “Interesting,” melting into the dark.

Once he was gone, Selina exhaled. “That was close. Good thing I bluffed.” Ceris, curious, asked, “Miss, who was that?” Selina’s voice overlapped with Hestia’s echo: “One of the Four Knights—Plague.”

Back in their room, Selina collapsed onto the soft bed, exhaustion etched on her face. Too much had happened; emotions churned. She rolled in the blankets, hugging a pillow, then noticed Ceris’s unusual quiet. “Ceris?” Two calls snapped her maid from her daze. “Sorry, Your Highness, I was lost in thought.”

“You’ve been off since we left. Thinking about the meeting?” Selina asked, legs swinging lazily. “Somewhat… but when we exited, I felt wrong. Resentment—why didn’t you kill that princess after what she did? It was intense until we met that stranger, then it vanished. I was terrified of myself.”

Ceris fidgeted, fearing corruption. Selina shushed her with a finger. “Not your fault—it’s the vampires’. Royal blood releases a factor when spilled, inciting aggression. You inhaled it.” Thanks, Hestia, she thought—her inner goddess was a walking encyclopedia.

Ceris’s eyes shone with awe. “You know everything, Your Highness!” But her brow furrowed.

“Still, letting her off easy… is it right?” Elves were peaceful but held grudges.

“She’s just pitiful,” Selina sighed, staring at the ceiling, her emerald eyes distant.

At forty-something in spirit, she’d outgrown hot-blooded youth. Avia’s kindness had doomed her mother, her bloodline stealing her body to commit matricide.

In the royal viper pit, with sisters hunting her, survival demanded ruthlessness—yet she’d spared Selina’s life. Redeemable.

“Everyone deserves a chance,” Selina said. “But mercy isn’t free.

She’ll pay interest on my blood—with that leverage.” One good turn, one debt.