Chapter 18: Celeste’s Humiliation
The morning sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the blood-red sunset Adele had witnessed upon her arrival yesterday. Sitting in the passenger seat of Hermione’s car, Adele couldn’t help but smile.
After a day of relentless effort, her standing with Hermione had finally improved significantly. To be able to sit in the passenger seat… it was a place usually reserved for loved ones, for those closest to the driver. This intimate position symbolized her initial foothold in this world, in this abusive novel, or rather, beside Hermione.
But this was only the beginning. Many more challenges awaited her.
As this thought crossed her mind, the tension that had momentarily eased in Adele’s chest returned.
Hermione deliberately chose a route she wouldn’t normally take to avoid encountering other Sequence Ones. They weren’t required to live on campus, and Adele had her own single dorm room.
Even Hermione couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on when she thought about those Sequence Ones at the academy, especially Dorothy. They were friends, supposedly. Though whether that woman truly understood the meaning of “friendship” was debatable.
If they crossed paths, that flamboyant Dorothy would definitely pull up alongside them in her convertible, pink curls whipping in the wind along with her laughter. And upon seeing Adele, she’d shout something like, “How was your night?~” before speeding off in a whirlwind of amusement.
She probably didn’t suspect anything complicated, genuinely believing that Adele and Hermione had just spent the night playing “games”.
But it wouldn’t be long before she came looking for Adele, perhaps dragging her up to the rooftop, their usual spot for afternoon tea and cakes, a place where Dorothy and her fellow Sequence Ones reigned supreme.
If Cromwell Academy were akin to Lily High, then Dorothy was undoubtedly its queen. As long as she didn’t go too far and refrained from harming humans, the mediating forces within the academy would turn a blind eye to her antics.
If only I were human…
Perhaps then she wouldn’t be seen as a plaything, a “doll” to be toyed with by any Sequence One who crossed her path. But she was a half-blood, a lowly Sequence Five at that.
The engine of the car roared like an angry beast, and Hermione’s gaze grew colder, threatening to freeze everything in its path.
………………
Cromwell Academy, first-year building.
When the sharp clicks of Ice Queen Hermione’s heels echoed through the halls, all the lower-ranking vampires held their breath and bowed their heads in respect as she passed.
The only ones who dared to meet her gaze were the elite humans. They weren’t required to bow to high-ranking vampires. Yet, even they couldn’t help but rein in their usual arrogance and nonchalance, observing the upperclassman with a newfound seriousness.
The first thing that hit them was her icy aura, cold and unyielding like a blizzard. Then, their eyes were drawn to her breathtaking beauty, a beauty so exquisite and unattainable that it felt almost unreal.
Or rather, it should have felt unattainable.
Because by Hermione’s side, held close, was a black-haired girl, her aura radiating a sense of vulnerability. She was looking around with wide, innocent pink eyes, taking in the various hostile gazes of her fellow students, seemingly oblivious to her own precarious position.
It was clear to everyone, both vampires and humans, that she didn’t belong there, not beside Hermione.
The vampires, with their strict hierarchy, found it preposterous. Even the human elites, those who prided themselves on their ideals of equality, couldn’t help but think the same.
But deep down, they all knew that true equality only existed among ordinary, powerless individuals. Once you awakened your abilities and became a member of this academy, no matter how humble you were before, you inevitably developed a certain arrogance, a sense of superiority.
No wonder some vampires had once angrily declared: Aren’t you humans just another variant? And yet you still consider yourselves human?
“Don’t be afraid.”
Hermione’s voice, like a soothing spring rain, washed over Adele’s anxieties, comforting her and making her feel safe.
“Thank you… Hermione.”
“But you can let me go here. I can walk the rest of the way myself.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
Hermione’s voice softened, a gentle tone she reserved only for Adele. But her words held a firm resolve, a quiet strength that brooked no argument. Or perhaps… it was “determination”?
Adele couldn’t argue, a small, reassured smile gracing her lips. For a moment, even surrounded by the disdain and hostility of strangers, she felt the fear that had been gnawing at her recede. Straightening her back, she walked on with Hermione.
They passed by the Sequence Two classroom, then the Sequence Three, and then the Sequence Four… Finally, they arrived at the Sequence Five classroom.
The atmosphere here was a little more relaxed. Whether they were lower-ranking vampires or weaker human ability users, everyone knew they were at the bottom of the food chain. All they could do was try their best every day. It didn’t matter if they failed; no one expected much from them anyway.
After graduation, they were more likely to end up as administrative staff within the organization than be assigned to combat units.
Sequence Five vampires were the most common. Apart from Cromwell Academy, there were many other institutions that housed and managed them. Most of the Sequence Fives who made it into Cromwell Academy were either those with a bit of noble vampire blood but were pitifully weak, bringing shame to their families, or those who got in through connections, hoping to secure a position.
Adele was a special exception. She seemingly had no power or influence, not even a family. Yet, she had been admitted to Cromwell Academy based on a single letter of recommendation.
In addition to its own internal assessments for both vampires and humans, Cromwell Academy also had a recommendation system. But this was not the beginning of good fortune for Adele. It was the start of her misfortune.
Only when she reached her own classroom did Adele finally relax. At least here, among her fellow Sequence Fives, everyone’s mental strength was roughly equal. There was no suffocating pressure.
Higher-ranking vampire students enjoyed releasing their mental pressure, taking pleasure in watching lower-ranking vampires tremble before them. If Hermione hadn’t been there, Adele’s legs would have given out from the sheer force of their presence. She would have been a laughingstock, unable to even walk properly.
However, thanks to Dorothy, all the high-ranking vampires knew that there was a delicious “blood snack” among the Sequence Fives, a soft, little cake they weren’t allowed to touch. Her name was Adele, and her defining features were long, straight black hair and captivating, doe-like pink eyes.
At the entrance to her classroom, Adele waved goodbye to Hermione. Hermione watched her enter the room and sit down at her designated seat before finally tearing her gaze away, reluctant to leave.
I won’t see Adele for another half day… A tinge of loneliness crept into her heart. It seemed even the Ice Queen, Hermione, wasn’t immune to its chill.
Heaving a silent sigh, Hermione turned to leave.
As she passed by the Sequence Two classroom, she ran into Celeste, who was running late. It was the same Sequence Two who had tried to hurt Adele in the locker room yesterday evening.
Gone was her former glory. Celeste’s golden hair was dull, her figure gaunt. The wounds on her face hadn’t healed, still leaking icy blue magical energy. They were incredibly conspicuous, a mark of shame.
To make matters worse, new wounds marred her skin, fresh and red and deliberately placed on her face, neck, wrists, and ankles – any area that was exposed, a constant reminder of her humiliation.
The Celeste family was nothing if not pragmatic. This was the best way to appease the Ice Queen, to offer their apologies and beg for leniency.
The mere sight of Hermione was enough to make Celeste tremble. She recalled her family’s warnings, their instructions. She knew that in her current position, begging for mercy was her only option.
As Hermione glanced at her coldly, Celeste, in full view of everyone, dropped to her knees in a display of utter humiliation. Her forehead touched the ground, her voice choked with tears as she begged for forgiveness.
“Please… forgive me…”
It was the only way to salvage her position in the academy, in her family. If Hermione decided to take her anger out on the Celeste family, they wouldn’t hesitate to cast her aside as a peace offering.
Her performance seemed to be effective. The fury that had been building in Hermione’s chest at the memory of yesterday’s events subsided slightly. It wasn’t enough to earn Celeste her forgiveness, but at least for the time being, Hermione wouldn’t go out of her way to make her life difficult. As long as she behaved herself.
Hermione didn’t respond to her pleas. She simply continued walking, her gaze cold and distant. Celeste, kneeling at her feet, seemed as insignificant as an ant.
The tip of Hermione’s heel landed on Celeste’s long golden hair, hair that was once radiant as sunshine but now lay dull and lifeless on the floor. A humiliating footprint marred its surface.
Without another word, without a backward glance, Hermione walked away, leaving Celeste kneeling on the ground, too afraid to move, her body shaking uncontrollably.
Laughter and whispers filled the air around her. Celeste gritted her teeth, swallowing her shame and rage. Her fists clenched so tightly that her nails drew blood.
Just you wait… One day, I will make you arrogant, self-righteous Sequence Ones pay!
