I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

Had something gone wrong?

Or had the target been some powerful figure, and the girl had been caught trying to steal their blood? That had to be it. People from the Demon Hunter Academy were jumpy as forest hares. Getting someone’s blood wasn’t easy…

As the Ghost Master’s anxious thoughts spiraled, a clear, unhurried sound broke the silence. Tap, tap, tap. Footsteps ascended the aged wooden stairs from the first floor.

Hope flared in her impatient heart. She eagerly floated over.

But as her eyes fell on the newcomer, her translucent face fell again. Disappointment.

It was someone she didn’t know.

The girl had a near-perfect face, expressionless, yet her aura carried a strange, unsettling quality. She wore a maid’s uniform adorned with dark crimson thorn patterns. Her steps were light, impeccably precise. Her presence was distinct.

But she… was not that apprentice.

The disappointed Ghost Master began to turn away.

Then she saw the maid-garbed girl walk straight to the “Alchemy” and “Potioncraft” shelves. She casually pulled a heavy alchemy tome from the towering stack—a book thick enough to bludgeon someone with. Then she went to a deserted corner, sat down quietly, opened the book’s first page, and simultaneously drew a small, neatly folded slip of paper from her pocket.

Curious, the Ghost Master drifted closer.

She easily read the handwriting on the slip:

—The blood is obtained. I cannot come personally. I have sent my most trusted companion, “Elsa.” She will complete the transaction.

The Ghost Master’s form trembled almost imperceptibly. She looked at the other—the maid named “Elsa,” whose expression didn’t change, who made no eye contact. Only those impossibly beautiful eyes stared unfocused ahead.

She understood immediately. This person couldn’t see her.

But… it didn’t matter. The transaction could proceed.

Suppressing her rising excitement, the Master slowly extended a translucent, withered hand and waved it gently inside the glass kerosene lamp with the brass base on the table.

The flame responded. It flickered rhythmically, brightening and dimming.

This was the prearranged signal.

Elsa’s gaze shifted the instant the flame danced. She understood: this was the sign of the ghost’s appearance, just as her lady had said.

She placed a second prepared slip of paper on the table.

—The blood is on my person. You must first show your sincerity.

The Ghost Master stared at Elsa, her profound eyes seeming to bore through her, searching for where the vial was hidden.

But finally, she adhered to the principle of the deal. With a slight wave of her hand, two items materialized on the table.

One was a gemstone ring glowing with a warm luster.

The other was a seemingly ordinary Handbook of Library Conduct and Regulations.

Elsa reached out and took both. She didn’t store them immediately. She began a detailed inspection, completely unaware the ghost’s “gaze” was now fixed intently on her, scrutinizing her every move.

She paid particular attention to several yellowed pages tucked inside the handbook. These remnants were from different books, but pieced together, they formed a complete potion formula. It appeared to be the degraded version of the “Transmutation Potion.”

Elsa had taken the basic alchemy elective available to all apprentices. To better assist her lady, her foundations were as solid as Pandora’s. She could discern the formula’s authenticity.

After confirming the appraisal as “genuine,” Elsa let out a soft sigh of relief. It seemed this Ghost Master had no intention of breaking the agreement. This was the best outcome.

The transaction’s core was complete.

She retrieved from the front of her dress a vial of blood, still slightly warm. She placed this small, mysteriously shimmering test tube steadily on the table, preparing to leave swiftly as planned.

Then she saw it. The vial on the table, defying physics, began to float.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Elsa’s heart jumped in alarm.

But the Ghost Potion Master paid her no mind. All her focus was on the vial now in her grasp. Her expression was one of intense concentration, like a scholar who had spent a lifetime yearning for the stars finally touching a real one with her own hands.

She extended those translucent, withered hands, gently cradling the blood, then slowly brought it into… her head, which was composed of some unknown, nearly illusory substance. She began the most profound, intimate perception of the blood’s properties.

Soon, she perceived the result. The answer she sought, the one that could overturn her lifelong conviction, manifested clearly in her spectral consciousness.

This was blood infused with a Witch’s lineage, but its “original identity” was not that of a Witch. And… this blood contained traces of another Transcendent power. The power was faint, seemingly not deeply fused with the flesh. Without such zero-distance perception in her spectral form, it would have been nearly impossible to detect.

But it was undeniably there.

In other words, what that female apprentice had said was true.

Her proud, foundational theory—the one that had sustained her very existence—“A Witch’s power will never coexist with any other power,” was wrong.

The revolutionary, “perfect potion” she had envisioned… was not perfect.

Elsa watched silently as the vial floating in the air progressed from stillness, to trembling, to complete motionlessness.

If she could have seen the Ghost Master’s face in that moment, she would have been astonished by the violent cascade of emotions crossing that translucent visage.

Anticipation. Conflict. Hesitation. Resolve. Disbelief. Despair. Contentment…

It was hard to imagine a single face could display such a rich, rapid storm in so brief a span.

Finally, the Ghost Master, in her elderly form, slowly shed two streams of tears. Her form began to dim, as if she had lost her final support. Just before completely dissipating into the air, those two streams of tears, the moment they left her eyes, solidified into… small piles of fine, faintly glowing powder.

They settled gently upon the table that held the potion formula and the ring.

Elsa watched as the fine, glowing powder suddenly materialized in the air. It swirled, faintly outlining a human shape—hands covering its face, caught somewhere between weeping and laughter.

For a moment, Elsa stared, mesmerized.

Then her combat instincts, drilled into her by Pandora, took over. The precious blood was falling.

She snatched it from the air before it could shatter against the floor.

She waited, hesitant. The silhouette vanished completely. The glowing powder settled, showing no further change.

After another hesitation, she opened the test tube. In one gulp, she drank the blood inside—thick, sweet, exquisite. The warm, power-filled liquid slid down her throat. Her already flawless skin flushed with a deeper, captivating rosy hue.

She had no time to savor the sudden rush. Swiftly, she collected all the scattered glowing dust from the table and placed it into the now-empty vial.

………………

“So… the library legend just ended? And turned into a vial of… ghost dust?”

In a secluded corner outside the library, Pandora received all three items. She picked up the ring first. The star-shaped gem felt warm and smooth. Since the ring was technically lost property, she didn’t put it on, planning to use it only when absolutely needed.

The formula—what she called the “Disguise Potion”—she forced into her memory the moment she got it, using her enhanced recall to prevent any accidents.

It was the vial of “soul dust,” formed from the Ghost Potion Master’s complete dissipation, that truly surprised her. She hadn’t expected that stubborn, obsessed ghost to vanish so completely once her lifelong belief was shattered.

And frankly… she had no idea what this rare material was actually good for.

She’d already tested it with the system’s 【Extract】 function. The system confirmed it could be broken down into Alchemical Elements. She hadn’t let it proceed, but the result would likely be Soul Points. The question was: pure ones, or the “unpurified” kind like Elsa originally provided?

Either way, she had no immediate plans for another 【Myriad Alchemy】. System extraction was one-way. She’d hold onto the powder for now, maybe research it in the library later to see if it had any use. If it proved worthless… then she could always extract it later.

“Yes, my lady. That appears to be the case.”

“Hmm… fine. No point overthinking it.” Pandora shook her head as if physically casting off the thoughts.

The only real regret from the whole library ghost business was failing to learn more about the dangers tied to “Witches.” But she understood the principle: sometimes, not knowing was safer. So in a way, it wasn’t a bad thing.

As for the Witch’s Bloodline inside her… what could she do? Remove it? She couldn’t. Might as well use it. Future problems could be dealt with later. She’d cross each bridge when she came to it.

She weighed the warm ring in her hand, then looked at the book scraps that made up the formula. “Anyway, it’s not bad news. I got what I wanted.” She muttered to herself, “The Disguise Potion ingredients will be a pain to gather, but that’s it. At least I don’t have to worry as much about what comes after the deadline…”

Still thinking, she walked side-by-side with Elsa away from the triangular library. On the way, she reassessed her progress. Her three main goals were basically achieved. Wizardry knowledge would have to wait until she was outside.

So… maybe she should treat herself?

Having reached this conclusion, Pandora smiled, turning to the maid beside her. “Elsa, how about a bath? Aurora and the others are still in class. We won’t call them.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Elsa’s reply was, as always, standard.

“Don’t be so stiff. Things are different now.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Elsa paused, then added with utter earnestness, “The world has changed. But Elsa will always be my lady’s Elsa.”

Pandora couldn’t help but facepalm, yet the smile never left her lips.

………………

She had the Disguise Potion formula. Gathering the materials would be trouble, but that was all it was—trouble. The problems waiting after the three-month deadline no longer seemed like major obstacles.

This brought her real relief.

But this relief seemed to be hers alone.

As the final countdown to the deadline drew closer, the apprentices on the paths grew visibly tense, like bowstrings pulled taut. The entire campus atmosphere tightened day by day.

Life on campus wasn’t comfortable, but it was safe. Mostly. As long as you didn’t go looking for trouble in deserted groves.

Outside was different. Beyond the conflicts that could erupt anytime between people fighting for scraps, there were the zombie hordes in the urban ruins. And the bigger, stronger mutated ones weren’t to be messed with.

Now, everyone was scrambling to prepare as best they could for the brutal unknown outside.

And it wasn’t just the freshmen. Even the seasoned third-ranks were preparing intently. Only, their targets were different—involving opportunities far more special, and far more rare.