Lady Evelyn was satisfied with the results; she loved the words that came from the vampire's mouth. "Then, let's discuss it… after you return us to the surface, Entel."
From the mistress's tone, it wasn't a simple request; it was a demand that needed to be immediately addressed.
However, for the time being, Entel seemed not to pay attention to her words. The vampire slowly walked toward one of the female beheaded dancers and, without delay, began feasting on their flesh.
Evelyn, on the other hand, watched in intrigue.
"Hmm, I can't imagine living like that," she remarked at the sight of the beautiful beast indulging.
Eventually, Entel finished and tossed aside the forgotten corpse. Her wounds began to heal, and the black creature that had always lingered within the palace's fog finally moved.
It wasn't aiming for Evelyn, but for Entel.
Here in this palace, the creature appeared far larger and longer, its form woven from numerous bloodied strands of hair. Soon, it reached Entel, and the vampire let it groom her, mending her torn clothes in the process.
Evelyn laughed in amusement at what she saw. "Your own personal parlor? I envy you," she teased.
The vampire finished her quick self-care. It was astonishing, there wasn't a single blemish or trace of grime left on her clothes.
Entel was even steaming slightly, as if the creature had ironed her garments as well.
Not only that, it had also styled her short black hair.
Evelyn stepped closer and took a cautious whiff; with all that mess, the vampire couldn't possibly smell pleasant.
But to the Lady of Velvet's surprise, when she leaned in, she caught a soft, clean scent. "How in heaven's name do you have that fragrance? It smells like lavender."
Entel laughed softly. "Did I finally manage to impress you? Convenient, isn't it?" she said as she walked closer to the Lady of Velvet.
Beneath Evelyn, the pool of blood began to ripple. The Lady of Velvet knew this wasn't an attack; the blood was taking form, shaping itself into crimson furniture.
Within moments, a table and two chairs emerged.
It was both elegant and gleaming, inviting the two women to sit and begin their discussion.
Entel was already seated, and without a word or gesture, Evelyn took the opposite chair. The two now faced each other as the black creature made of hair hovered above them.
It carried a teacup in its strands and gently placed it upon the crimson table beside Entel. From its threadlike tendrils, it began to pour hot blood, guiding the stream with meticulous precision until the cup was steaming full.
Afterward, it set another teacup before Evelyn. The Lady of Velvet, however, raised her right hand in a graceful gesture, signaling it to stop. The creature obeyed, though its strands subtly mimicked the act of frowning.
"Aww, you offended it, Evelyn," teased Entel, taking a sip of the warm blood tea.
"My apologies if I hurt the creature's feelings, but I don't drink blood, Entel," Evelyn replied softly.
The two women spoke casually, despite all that had transpired between them.
"Oh, please, I still have an idea of hospitality and courtesy." With a flick of her fingers, Entel commanded the creature.
Evelyn's eyes followed one of the hair strands as the creature whipped out, of all things, a tea bag.
"Oh my goodness," the Lady of Velvet murmured, genuinely stunned.
The creature dropped the tea bag into Evelyn's cup. Then, instead of guiding blood, one strand began to pour boiling water.
Another strand emerged, delicately dropping sugar cubes into the tea. Finally, a third strand appeared, holding a small silver spoon, stirring the cup.
When the task was complete, the creature retreated, its strands rippling like waves of black silk, disappearing into the foggy atmosphere.
"What are you waiting for?" Entel teased, sipping from her own cup of blood tea.
"Try it, it's not as if I could poison you."
Yet Evelyn's right eye twitched as the creature added sugar before the teacup was stirred; she didn't complain, though, as it was the least of her worries.
The Lady of Velvet took the vampire's words and sipped her tea. It looked and smelled ordinary, but after tasting it, she was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't that awful.
"Decent..." Evelyn murmured.
"That's enough for me." Entel will take that simple satisfaction from the Lady of Velvet.
"Now then, I'm sure you're not against this arrangement? This place is far better for a discussion than that damp bridge above us," Entel clarified, taking another sip of her blood tea.
"I suppose not," replied Evelyn.
Both women put down their tea. The Lady of Velvet cleared her throat before beginning their accord, but at the same time, she placed the crimson vial in the center of the table.
"Go on, inspect its authenticity," said Evelyn.
Entel softly reached out and firmly held the vial. Its container was dark, with an intricate gold design, about 5 oz, she thought—enough for a 7th degree ascending to 6th degree, and on top of that, a perfect crimson from all the blood drawn from various victims.
"This is quite exquisite, Evelyn. What is it you wish me to do for it?" Entel asked. It was the right moment to continue their discussion.
Lady Evelyn took a quick sip of her tea, still thinking that boggled her mind. "You will consume it before the task I will assign you."
Entel's ears perked at her words. "Oh? My task requires me to be a 6th-degree Scripter? Quite daunting, Evelyn. I wonder what it is."
"Precisely. You must reach the 6th degree, for your own safety." Evelyn paused, her eyes fluttering softly as she gave Entel a serious gaze.
"After the task is completed, I will grant you another elixir, far more potent, that will allow you to reach…"
"5th degree. I wish for you to possess your very own perfect signature."
The sought-after 5th Degree.
A level where Scripters have managed to interpret a highly dangerous 'Perfect Signature,' a fusion of two or three ideas from multiple Imperfect Signatures.
The same degree at which high Black Stripes GPA and Executor Scripters stand.
Entel gently placed the blood elixir on the table. She crossed her legs, mirroring the Lady of Velvet, and set aside her playful demeanor as she studied Evelyn's true intentions.
"For what reason do you wish to become so strong? Tell me directly, Evelyn," she asked.
"I want you to kill multiple people, a massacre."
"—and one obstacle in particular."
They're seeing eye to eye, velvet eyes to red-cream gaze.
"You will prove whether you can spill his blood," Evelyn murmured, voice laced with contempt.
"Laevin," she said, Evelyn's voice savored the name; it was a deep wound, the deepest wound within her soul.
"The Leviathan."
Chapter End.