“True Ancestor, how about I make some food for you?”
“Human food holds no interest for me.”
As already explained once before, the Blood Race’s physiology was largely similar to that of humans. They could consume human food, but it merely filled the stomach without providing any nutrition. In fact, it could even be somewhat harmful—just look at what happened when Aisha Hodhua ate that candy.
To the Blood Race, human food was little more than junk food. They could savor the taste, but it offered no real benefits.
The higher the rank of a noble, the less they partook of human fare. They went to great lengths to preserve the purity and potency of their blood, often limiting themselves to just a single Blood Servant. One could imagine how particular they were. And the True Ancestor stood at the pinnacle of the Blood Race, pursuing nothing less than the utmost purity. Consider this: even her Blood Servant’s blood had to sit for a full month before it could be drained. Asking her to eat human food was nothing short of a wild fantasy.
That was how it should have been.
It should have been a wild fantasy. Yet in the very next moment, at Sang’s insistent pleading, the True Ancestor relented. She agreed—albeit extremely reluctantly.
She said offhandedly, “Fine. Let’s see what you come up with first, then I’ll decide whether to eat it.”
Sang had simply made some candied hawthorns, using the leftover fruit from the past two or three days (there was always a small fruit delivery each day). Short on materials, he only managed two skewers—one for the True Ancestor and one for the Pink-Haired Little Lolita, who was a total sweet tooth.
Sang wasn’t much good at making snacks like these, so it ended up taking him most of the day. By the time he handed the candied hawthorns to the True Ancestor, the sun was dipping toward the horizon once more. At her insistence, Sang once again risked his life by sitting down beside her.
He had sat here several times by now, enough to cure his fear of heights. After adjusting a bit to the wind’s direction and force, he was no longer afraid.
As he sat there, he turned his face toward the black-haired silhouette beside him. The sight that met his eyes filled the young man with an inexplicable thrill.
The serene, beautiful sunset cast a golden glow over the black-haired girl’s profile. She was still wrapped in those three loops of white cloth, leaving great expanses of skin bare. One foot rested on the balcony’s edge while the other dangled naturally below. Her alluring, bewitching face darted out her tongue now and then to lick at the glistening candied hawthorn. Her thin pink lips gleamed wetly, and her jet-black hair fluttered in the breeze.
The scene was breathtaking in its beauty, beyond words.
It plucked at the young man’s heartstrings at every moment.
The next instant, the True Ancestor noticed his unabashed gaze. She didn’t think much of it. Seeing no candied hawthorn in his hand, she assumed he was craving one and extended hers toward him.
“Looks like the supplies of human food from 【Heavenly Key】 weren’t enough for more than one skewer. Little Bug, you look so pitiful. Here, have a lick.”
Sang: “…”
Sang knew she had misunderstood. He glanced at the candied hawthorn in her hand, noting the faint sticky sheen on its surface. Hmm… was that the True Ancestor’s saliva?
Not that he minded.
It wasn’t disgust—it was just a sudden, inexplicable shyness. It felt too awkward.
After a brief moment of stunned hesitation, Sang lowered his head, brought his face close, and stuck out his tongue for a gentle lick. As expected from his own handiwork, it tasted amazing!
But then—
Seeing Sang lick something she had already eaten from, the True Ancestor burst into teasing laughter. She mocked him playfully, “You really are just a little bug, eating scraps from your master.”
With that, she casually popped the skewer back into her own mouth.
Sang watched the whole thing with a strange mix of feelings.
Across two lifetimes—eighteen in the last one and fourteen in this—he had never been in love. At most, he had held hands with some girls at the orphanage in this life. He still had his first kiss. How was he supposed to handle such provocative actions from the True Ancestor?
It felt just like an indirect kiss.
Sang hurriedly changed the subject. “Does it taste good? The ones I made?”
As she ate, the True Ancestor replied in a soft, ethereal tone, “Mm, not bad…”
Unlike some haughty women, the True Ancestor never minced words or played coy. If she said it was not bad, then it truly was.
Once she finished her candied hawthorn, she still seemed a little unsatisfied. She suggested they do some post-meal exercise and check on the progress of the young man’s recent sword training.
Indeed, during these past days, Sang had never skipped a single day of sword practice. It kept him fit on one hand and helped pass the boring time on the other.
But the moment he heard they were sparring again—even with her promise of “touch me and you win, you get to go out for a day”—he couldn’t shake the lingering trauma from the last time, when she had blasted a beam of crimson light straight through his arm. He refused.
This woman was far too cunning. As if he’d believe her.
The True Ancestor added, “This time, I absolutely won’t hurt you. Little Bug, don’t push your luck.”
She had stopped using threats of death so much lately, but her verbal warnings remained sharp.
With the True Ancestor putting it that way, refusing further would only anger her—and the consequences of that didn’t bear thinking about. He quickly agreed. “Okay, okay, sure.”
Though his relationship with the True Ancestor seemed to have grown closer lately, he still had to stay ever vigilant. Accompanying a sovereign was like accompanying a tiger, after all.
What followed was entirely predictable. Sang gripped his Knight Sword—Dawn and launched a frenzy of near-mad pursuit against the True Ancestor. She deflected every single attack with ease.
Half an hour later, the vast Heavenly Pavilion lay in chaos.
Sang was drenched in sweat and utterly spent. The True Ancestor, by contrast, remained perfectly composed and unruffled, not a speck of dust on her three loops of white cloth.
“No more, no more. We’re not even in the same league.” Sang finally couldn’t take it. He called a halt and collapsed spread-eagled on the floor at the center of the Heavenly Pavilion.
It was utterly despairing. The True Ancestor was wicked—she always let him come that close to touching her before dodging at the last second. The ultimate torment.
“Giggle giggle～”
At that moment, her crisp, seductive laughter echoed through the entire Heavenly Pavilion. She settled gracefully onto the black coffin in front of Sang. The ends of her white cloth draped down slowly, stirring up a faint cloud of dust that settled lightly on the ground to either side. She sat with her legs pressed together, one hand propping her cheek as she gazed down at him.
Sang lay on the ground, looking up from below. With just the slightest tilt of his eyes, he took in the full vista of tantalizing allure.
Even so, he didn’t dare look. Well… he sneaked a quick peek, then averted his gaze. Ah… this fourteen-year-old body was far too full of youthful vigor. To see but not touch was too taxing on the health—especially when it was the True Ancestor’s flawless figure…
In any case.
It seemed his next chance to leave 【Heavenly Key】 was still a distant dream. Just as Sang rose dejectedly from the ground, preparing to leave, a voice like heavenly music suddenly came from behind him.
“Little Bug, wait.”
