I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

Of course, the position meant that if she wanted to, she could involve herself in Eden’s affairs. Could step into disputes. But her lone-wolf, training-obsessed nature meant she’d never actually used that “authority.” Not once.

Until today. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

She’d been quietly tracking My Lady’s movements through her own channels. And she’d learned that while the Lady was away, a mob was gathering in Ascension Road to trash her name.

So, she came.

She knew the rules of the Ruined Capital. With just her second-rank strength, she could maybe drive off a few hired mouths, but she couldn’t pull the problem up by the root. Might even make more trouble for Pandora.

But with the tag “Eden Enforcement Squad Captain”? That was different. That meant rules. Order. An official stance.

A low mutter ran through the crowd.

“Eden Enforcers…”

“What are they doing here?”

“Ascension Road handles its own mess.”

Eden Enforcers weren’t unseen in the Ruins. But showing up in Ascension Road’s core territory to step into what was clearly an internal spat? That was rare. This was usually a job for Ascension Road’s own peacekeepers, the ones who answered to the Committee.

Wilbur’s brows drew together. A thread of uncertainty wound through his gut.

The Eden Enforcement Squad? Why? Did Lord Aldrich call in a favor to make this mess look more official?

No.

Looking at their faces—especially that young female captain’s eyes—calm, assessing, with a thread of… detached coldness? That wasn’t the look of someone here to help run a smear job. Besides, he’d never heard of Aldrich having pull with Eden’s senior third-ranks.

So, were they the Baroness’s backup? That made even less sense. Every scrap of intel he’d dug up on the “Baroness” and the “Empty Vial” painted her as a loner. A clear-distance keeper from the big powers. Even if she had a shadow backer, there was no way she had a direct line to the veterans running Eden. No one like that would move the Enforcers for one second-rank alchemist.

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But here they were. Clear purpose. Moving smooth. Why? And whose order?

Before Wilbur could untangle the knot, someone stepped out from behind Aurora.

A tall, broad-shouldered youth with a rugged, tough face. If Pandora were here, she’d know him in a heartbeat.

Another former knight.

“Gabby” Lucien.

His partner, “Thumbs” Ham, wasn’t in this squad. Back then, the two had followed Aurora, clearing zombies, soaking up Corpse-Red Mist. Their talent and strength were top among their peers. But talent didn’t change the fact they were still first-rank. In the Ruined Capital’s sea of apprentices, first-rank was small fry. Survival was a daily grind.

So when Aurora broke through to second, landed a spot in the Enforcement Squad, and offered them a place? It was a lifeline. On their own, even being good among the new blood, competition was brutal. The Enforcer slots were limited. The resources, the protection, the room to grow—all of it beat wandering solo.

Lucien and Ham hadn’t hesitated. They signed up.

Now, “Gabby” Lucien had shed most of his boyish jumpiness. His composure was cool, steady. His voice cut through the last whispers.

“Who here accused the Empty Vial of pushing fakes? Of endangering lives?”

His sharp eyes swept over the agitators, locking on the thin man with the filthy bandaged arm.

“You.” Lucien pointed, brow furrowed. “You said the Healing Ointment made your wound rot? Come here. Let’s see it.”

The man flinched, trying to shove his weeping arm behind his back, eyes darting.

Lucien didn’t give him time to think. His words came fast, a rapid-fire volley, using every bit of his quick-wit.

“Standard Healing Ointment formula uses second-rank Kowtowing Zombie bone powder as the base. Mixed with Bone-Blood Grass juice to soften the bite and spur cell regrowth. Wound healing. That’s the public formula from the Corpse Hall’s Basic Potion Guide! So where’s this ‘severe drug’ and ‘irritant’ you’re screaming about?”

He took a step forward, his stance aggressive. “And you say it festered three days later? Oh?” Lucien’s voice jumped an octave, thick with mockery. “Since when do Ascension Road potions come with a lifetime guarantee? Even the Academy’s official workshops don’t offer that! How many Contribution Points did you drop on that ointment, huh? Heh! High standards!”

He stared at the man’s souring face, his tone pressing, relentless. “If you dropped dead right here, you gonna blame a bottle of Healing Ointment you used a month ago?”

“You—!” The man’s face flushed purple, lips trembling.

“You what!” Lucien cut him off, no quarter given. “Your wound heals, then new symptoms show? Two possibilities. One: you didn’t clean it right, deep infection flared. Your own fault. Or…” His gaze turned sharp as a blade, like he was looking right through the man. “…you hurt yourself on purpose. Slapped on some rot-juice. Came here to frame someone and shake them down.”

Without letting the man catch a breath, he snapped his eyes to the rat-faced short man nearby.