Planning and Methods

Emerging from the café, Selina pinched her brow, weary.

Ordinary life was supposed to be dull—not this endless parade of trouble.

She’d rejected the fox senpai clearly, but those intrigued pink eyes promised persistence.

Now, dodging Lytia and the student council wasn’t enough—add a lovesick nine-tails to the list.

“Miss, five minutes until your meeting with Avia,” Ceris reminded gently.
“I know. Let’s go.”

Since the incident, Selina’s bond with Avia had thawed rapidly.

In the entire academy, the vampire princess was the only one she could speak to intimately.

Avia visited twice—for sparring, not chit-chat. Little Aiel? Treated like a daughter—too timid for Selina’s woes.

The rendezvous: Avia’s dorm—private, secure.

Helos opened the door, ushering them in with a bow.

A chill clung to the air despite open curtains; the room was stark, books neatly stacked.

Avia, in academy skirts, rose with a soft smile—crimson eyes bright with joy.

“Long time no see, Avia-senpai.”
“Long time no see, Selina.”

No trace of her former malice.

Avia slid a metallic alchemy card across the desk.
“Black market auction pass? Alchemy-forged—solid security.” Selina examined it, impressed.

“They’ve got backing and funds to host near Tianqi,” Avia explained. “Metal invites filter the riff-raff.”

As memories merged, both saw the shared thorn: elven slavery. Human Empire banned it on paper—empty words. No knights raided dens; profits trumped law. Elven Kingdom couldn’t intervene—internal affairs. Stalemate.

“This pass is rare,” Avia said. “Elven intel’s hunted for years—few snag one.”

“Entry’s step one,” Selina noted. “Step two: identity check. They’ve got alchemy gates detecting elves. Alarm triggers—axes swarm.”

“Non-elves with status get invites easily,” Avia smiled faintly. “Bloodkin? Top clients. Most crave elven blood.”

“I know your heart,” Selina said trustingly. “You’ve never bought slaves.”

“Shielding you with my title won’t work,” Avia admitted. “The gate sees through.”

“So I’m stuck.”

“Not quite.” Avia’s tone turned grave. “I have a risky plan—needs your consent.”

“Shoot.”

“Turn you vampire—temporarily.”

Question marks exploded over both elves’ heads.

Impossible. Selina bore pure elven divine blood; vampire essence couldn’t overwrite a full godline. That’s why ancestral blood in her veins never turned her.

“Only you can pull this off,” Avia said solemnly.

“Why?”

“Your ancestral seed—suppressed by elven divinity, but eternal. Boost the vampire side briefly…”

“…and I’ll look bloodkin.” Selina’s eyes gleamed with understanding.

Theory? Sound. Practice? A minefield—bloodlines and divinity were arcane even to masters.

“How?” Selina asked, chin in hand.

That bite in the trial… The flat-chested bat left a “seed”—a mechanism weaving ancestral blood into her system.

New blood carried traces, but elven divinity dominated.

Amayane probably did it for kicks, Hestia had said.

Avia, unaware of Selina’s musings, laid it out. “I hold pure ancestral blood. Infuse enough to tip the scale—temporarily.”

“Your lineage won’t shatter,” she added, flashing fangs.

Selina fell silent.

Avia thought she feared corruption. “It won’t—”

“Will the bite… hurt?” Selina whispered, cheeks flushing.

Avia froze, stunned. The fearless princess—unfazed by scythes—now shy about a nip?

“It won’t,” Avia stammered, ears reddening. “Saliva numbs. I’ll… be gentle. Extra saliva.”

The room’s air thickened with orange-scented tension.

Helos blinked. A serious plan—why are they blushing?

Ceris’s heart raced.

I ship Princess with Second Princess… but vampire-elf cuddles? If phones existed, she’d be on Zhihu asking: “Is it normal to suddenly ship your OTP’s rival CP?”