CHAPTER 155: ALLIANCE [3]

"Then it’s settled," I said, leaning back from the table and letting the tension bleed out of my shoulders. "You stay out of my business with Alice, and I’ll stay out of yours."

Amelia’s arms folded tight across her chest, her chin tilting up in that noble defiance of hers. "Fine. But if Alice ends up hurt because of you—broken—don’t expect me to wait for permission. I’ll end it myself."

I smiled faintly, as if she’d just threatened me with a wooden spoon. "Duly noted."

The air between us still crackled with unspoken hostility when Velra, who had been lounging with that eternal smirk of hers, finally decided to stir.

Her voice slipped into the room like velvet over a blade. "All very dramatic, but... you haven’t forgotten our little contract, have you, parasite?"

Her crimson eyes glittered, half amusement, half warning.

I turned my head toward her, the corner of my mouth tugging upward. "Forget? Hardly. I came prepared."

From the space beside me, I dragged out what I’d brought — a stout oak barrel, sealed tight with iron bands. The wood carried the faint scent of iron beneath the polish.

Even Velra’s carefully maintained poise cracked for an instant. Her gaze lingered too long on the barrel, the barest flicker of hunger crossing her expression before she schooled it back into bored disdain.

I chuckled under my breath.

"Even the proud and eternal have their tells. This—" I patted the lid of the barrel with mock reverence, "—isn’t just any blood. Wampa stock. Centuries old. Raised in the duke’s private estate. Not the sort of thing you stumble across at a market."

Velra tilted her head, trying for indifference but failing miserably as her eyes drifted back to the gift. "...Blood of a beast that’s lived longer than most kingdoms. Hah. You do know how to court favor, don’t you?"

Her voice was smooth, but her hand twitched ever so slightly — and with a flick of invisible force, the barrel lifted, floating across the room until it hovered safely at her side.

She set it down carefully, possessively, like a dragon tucking away a new piece of treasure.

"More useful than the swill of common beasts," she said, her tone airy, but her lips curved in satisfaction. "Though, I’ll admit... it ruins a bit of the fantasy. Monsters stop being frightening when you start farming them like livestock."

"Practicality always kills romance," I said dryly.

Amelia, who had been watching this exchange with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance, finally let out a sharp exhale.

"Honestly. One of you’s scheming about Alice, the other’s hoarding blood like a miser. It’s a miracle either of you can call yourselves allies."

Her words carried disdain, but her eyes lingered on me longer than Velra. Watching. Weighing. Trying to see if I’d slip.

"What do you mean?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Amelia shifted slightly, her gaze flicking toward Velra. "It’s just... when people talk about demons, it’s always with the same tone. Evil. Enemies. Monsters. I never imagined..." Her voice trailed off, softening as her eyes lingered on Velra.

I caught it immediately. Sympathy.

The same girl who had flinched at the thought of a parasite demon now looked at Velra with pity, all because the proud vampire had faltered in front of a barrel of blood.

A little amusing, really. Velra could crush Amelia with a twitch of her fingers, yet Amelia’s noble heart couldn’t help but see a wounded creature instead of the predator she was. Classic inexperienced aristocrat.

But I wasn’t about to complain. This development worked in my favor.

"Why don’t you make a deal with Lady Velra, Lady Amelia?" I suggested smoothly.

Her head snapped toward me, eyes widening. "A... deal?"

"Yes," I said, nodding toward Velra. "She may look pitiful now, but don’t be fooled — she’s a vampire, and a very old one at that. She’s steeped in magic. Imagine what you could learn from her, as a wizard."

Amelia blinked, processing my words. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind.

The truth was simple: Velra needed blood, Amelia had resources. Amelia wanted magical power, Velra had centuries of knowledge. From where I stood, the arrangement was obvious.

Unlike me, who had to ration every drop of mana and blood I gave away, Amelia was a noblewoman tied to a wealthy trading company. Access to rare materials wasn’t an issue for her. And monster blood? It was valuable, yes, but in Velra’s current weakened state, it was practically priceless.

Hiring someone of Velra’s caliber — a vampire with deep magical roots — would normally cost a fortune no merchant house would dare pay. But here, the exchange was almost laughably cheap.

Amelia bit her lip, her hesitation plain. "...But a deal with a demon..."

I leaned in slightly, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Why are you hesitating? You’ve already joined hands with me."

Her breath hitched. For just a moment, I caught the flicker of conflict in her eyes — morality wrestling with reason, pride grinding against practicality.

"Come on, Amelia. Do the math. Isn’t it more fitting for a northern noble like you to use a demon who doesn’t even realize her own value? A demon blinded by her obsession with revenge, ripe for exploitation?"

Her pupils trembled. The truth had landed, but before she could even breathe a response—

An icy voice sliced through the air.

"Did you really think I wouldn’t hear you whispering like that?"

I glanced lazily to the side. "Oh, you heard?"

Velra’s sigh was heavy, but her eyes stayed sharp, cutting into Amelia with the precision of a blade.

"Pathetic," she spat. "Even in this wretched state of mine, I haven’t thrown away my pride. Do you truly think I’d waste my knowledge on a worthless human?"

Amelia flinched, her hands trembling against her skirts.

I clicked my tongue.

’Tch. I was going to explain it to you later, Velra.’

Since our alliance was already in motion, maybe it was better to clear the air now — to remind her of the actual balance of power here.

I let my gaze rest on her, steady, unbothered. "I’ve seen the products your Frost Trading Company sells. Blood from Yetis, from Trolls — monsters that don’t fall easily."

Velra stiffened almost imperceptibly, though her scoff came quick. "...Ahem. That could only be handled with the help of my own kind."

Her words rang hollow. A reflex. A shield.

I leaned back slightly, studying her expression. She still couldn’t let go of her contempt for humans — and yet, she couldn’t quite hide the fact that her company’s survival depended on more than just demonic pride.

"Funny," I said softly, almost to myself. "For someone who calls humans worthless, you certainly seem to profit well enough off their world."

The silence that followed was sharp, taut as a bowstring. Amelia looked between us, torn between relief and unease. Velra’s lips twitched, the pride in her eyes cracking for the briefest second.

And I knew — I had her exactly where I wanted.

Velra’s silence dragged. A flicker of crimson light danced in her eyes, the kind that promised violence—or desperation.

She finally broke it with a low laugh, more bitter than amused. "You twist words well, parasite. Perhaps that’s your only real talent."

I didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, I leaned forward, elbows on the table, letting the faintest smile tug at my lips. "Maybe. But twisting words is cheaper than bleeding out centuries of magic just to stay awake at night. Isn’t that right?"

Her composure faltered. Not enough for Amelia to notice—but I caught it. A twitch at the corner of her mouth, her hand tightening on the armrest of her chair. The barrel at her side might as well have been a chain.

Amelia, ever the bleeding heart, couldn’t hold back anymore. "If it’s true... if you’re suffering that badly, why not accept help? Why keep fighting everyone around you when you could..." Her voice softened. "When you could just cooperate?"

Velra turned her head slowly, her gaze pinning Amelia like a knife through silk. "Cooperate?" The word dripped with venom. "Do you think I’ve lived centuries just to beg scraps from children who still cling to morality like a toy rattle?"

Amelia flinched, but didn’t back down. Brave little noble. Foolish, but brave.

I chuckled quietly, cutting through the tension. "Careful, Velra. If you spit too hard, you’ll choke on your own pride."

Her head snapped back toward me. "And what of you? Do you imagine you hold my leash just because you dangled a barrel of blood in front of me?"

"Not a leash," I said smoothly. "A bargain. You get to cling to that pride of yours, to survive without crawling on your knees. And in return—" I let my gaze flick between her and Amelia, lingering long enough for the message to settle. "—you make yourself useful."

Velra’s lips curled, half-snarl, half-smirk. "Useful," she echoed, like it was a curse.

But she didn’t refuse.

The silence that followed told me everything. She hated it, but she wasn’t walking away. Not yet.

Amelia, however, shifted uneasily. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, her eyes darting between us. I could see the doubt gnawing at her, the thin crack forming in her conviction.

Good. Cracks always spread.

Velra finally leaned back against the wall, crossing one elegant leg over the other. Her voice was lazy, but her eyes never left mine. "Then speak plainly, parasite. What do you want of me?"

I smiled, slow and deliberate. "Simple. I want you to teach her."

The room stilled. Amelia froze. Velra’s smirk vanished.

For the first time, neither of them had a ready answer.

Perfect.