I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

The next day, before the sky was light, as the first pale rays of dawn pierced the morning mist, the entrance to the Calfskin Village tannery was already solemn and silent.

Pandora’s group stood quietly, holding the reins of their horses.

The morning air was crisp and cold, carrying the damp scent of earth, the lingering smell of last night’s ashes, and a faint trace of blood that had not yet completely dissipated.

The children from the tannery had almost all gathered at the entrance. They stood or sat in silence, watching the small party about to depart, their expressions complex—a mixture of reluctance, envy, and bewilderment about the future.

Pandora was ready to leave.

The zombies in this village had been completely wiped out by her and Elsa. The survivors were all gathered here. During the simple dinner last night, she had already given all the necessary instructions for rebuilding the village to their “king of the kids,” Patrick.

She no longer had a reason to stay.

However, the departing party was a little larger than when they had arrived.

Besides Pandora, Elsa, Betty, and Aurora, there were six new faces.

Two of them were the bitten boy and the herb girl who had been tending to him. After a night of observation, the boy had shown no signs of turning. The wound, due to limited medical supplies, had shown some minor signs of infection, but to be certain about whether he would turn, Pandora had decided to bring him along.

As for the herb girl, her medical skills were of undeniable value, both for caring for the wounded and for dealing with any potential accidents in the future. Pandora had simply promised her a more comfortable life at the manor and relatively better personal safety. The girl, having witnessed the horror of the zombies and Pandora’s power, had agreed without hesitation.

The remaining four—three boys and a girl—were Pandora’s advance reserve of manpower for the manor.

She had given Patrick four “slots,” allowing any youths willing to leave their homeland and follow the Douglas family to join her party.

In the end, from a crowd of longing eyes, Patrick had selected these four children, who were relatively strong and had a firmer resolve in their eyes.

Patrick himself had chosen to stay. He needed to remain here to lead the others in rebuilding their devastated home.

Pandora looked at him. The look in this boy’s eyes had lost its childishness, replaced by the composure and sense of responsibility of a leader. She had a premonition they would meet again very soon.

“We’re leaving.”

Pandora swung herself into the saddle, saying calmly to Patrick and the children behind him.

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“Miss, have a safe journey!”

Patrick bowed deeply, his voice loud and clear.

The children behind him followed his example, expressing their most sincere respect in their own ways to the “heroes” who had saved them and were now departing.

Under the watchful eyes of the boys and girls, the party slowly urged their horses forward, leaving the silent village, where a faint light had been rekindled.

“My Lady, where are we headed next?”

As they traveled down the forest path, Betty couldn’t help but ask. She was walking alongside the herb girl, and the two were getting along quite well, having just been chatting in low voices.

“Back to the manor.”

Pandora’s voice was calm and clear.

Her absorption of the “Corpse-Red Mist” had reached its current limit. If she wanted to continue increasing her strength by killing zombies, it would be mostly for Betty and Aurora’s benefit.

But before that, she needed to return to the manor first.

She needed to rest, to properly settle these six newcomers with their different backgrounds, and more importantly, she needed to… sort through the Alchemical books and Elements she had gathered over the past two days.

The manor was her only, and most stable, base. It was the starting point for all her plans.

Now, it was time to go back.

………………

Noon. The sun high in the sky.

The sunlight, with a hint of laziness, pierced through the sparse clouds, falling on the mottled iron gates of the Douglas Manor.

Still a distance from the manor, Pandora reined in her horse. Her brow furrowed slightly.

Tied to the two thick stone pillars that served as decorations on either side of the gate were three figures. Like three scarecrows, they were motionless in the afternoon breeze.

“It’s… them?”

Betty let out a cry of surprise. She recognized the tattered clothes. They were the three boys from the mill.

Pandora urged her horse forward slowly.

As they drew closer, the miserable state of the three boys became clear.

The one in the center, Ron, the miller’s son, was in the worst shape. His body was covered in bruises. A few deep wounds, bone-deep, were exposed to the air and had already turned black, the surrounding flesh red and horribly swollen. He hung his head, his breathing faint, as if he might breathe his last at any moment.

The other two, while not having the horrifying external injuries of Ron, were also battered and bruised, with split lips and faces full of pain and weakness.

Hearing the hoofbeats, the three boys struggled to lift their heads. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

When they saw that it was Pandora, a flame ignited in their dim eyes.

“Miss! Miss Pandora! You’re finally back!”

Ron used all his strength to squeeze out a shrill voice, like a man clutching at his last straw of hope:

“You must get justice for us! These two knights, they… they’re not human!”

“Yes! The moment they got back, they tied us up and beat us without asking any questions!”

“We were just trying to help, and they said we were lazy and whipped us!”

“They wouldn’t let us sleep and forced us to do the dirtiest, most exhausting work!”

“They even wantonly destroyed things in the manor, they smashed the vase in your study! That’s grave disrespect, Miss!”

“This morning, they… they even tried to take advantage of the two girls from our mill! We really couldn’t stand for it, so we went to stop them, and… and this is what happened!”

One after another, their voices were filled with anger and resentment, mixed with a perfectly timed plea for help.

This accusation sounded as if it had been rehearsed countless times. In just a few sentences, they painted Lucien and Ham as a pair of lawless, bullying thugs, while they themselves were loyal servants who had risen up to defend the manor and protect the weak, only to be brutally beaten.

The performance was truly tear-jerking and moving.

Betty’s little face turned red with anger, her whole body trembling. “How could they do this! That’s going too far! Sister Elsa, we should…”

However, Pandora raised a hand, cutting off Betty’s unfinished words.

She didn’t speak. She just looked at the three “actors,” her eyes as calm as a frozen lake.