“What are you two doing here?”

  Pandora’s voice was calm and gentle, instantly putting both Aurora and Betty at ease.

  “My Lady, your body…”

  Aurora’s voice was thick with worry. She stared intently at the faint reddish mist swirling around Pandora, afraid it was some kind of bad omen.

  Betty was so nervous she even forgot to breathe, her round little face scrunched up, her hands tightly clutching the hem of her dress.

  Seeing the worry in their eyes, Pandora felt a warmth spread through her chest.

  A gentle smile on her face, she shook her head. “I’m fine, Aurora, Betty. I’ve never felt… better.”

  And she meant it.

  The damned dizziness from her chronic anemia was completely gone. Her mind was clearer than ever before, as if a thin veil that had been covering her eyes had been lifted, making the colors of the world more vibrant, the yers more distinct.

  This didn’t mean the 【Price】 had been lifted. In fact, she could clearly feel that she was still in that “anemic” state, but her “foundation” had been raised. It had been greatly, one might even say miraculously, elevated by the mysterious gas she had named the “Corpse-Red Mist.”

  So, while the intensity of her anemia was the same, its effect on her had been weakened!

  Pandora had a feeling that if she were to put down Elsa’s sword and face Aurora in a fair duel right now, she was confident she could hold her own against this rigorously trained, battle-hardened knight-squire!

  This was power that belonged to her alone, true power that didn’t rely on any external object!

  This kind of boost was almost too good to be true. So much so that Pandora herself was in awe of this miraculous substance.

  However, no matter how wondrous or miraculous the substance, it seemed the improvements it brought had a “limit.”

  When the pile of corpses at the base of the clock tower grew higher, when she had cleared out most of the zombies in Calfskin Vilge, leaving only the st twenty or so who were still being drawn by the bell, slowly making their way to the clock tower from the vilge’s various corners, Pandora noticed a change.

  She was still killing, still “extracting,” but that familiar, warm sensation of being absorbed by her body was growing weaker and weaker.

  Until finally, when she struck down another zombie and the reddish mist seeped from its corpse, trying to merge with her, it was as if it had hit an invisible barrier. It was repelled, and then slowly seeped out of her body, dissipating into the air.

  She couldn’t absorb any more “Corpse-Red Mist.”

  At first, Pandora didn’t believe it. She deliberately killed two more, trying to actively “guide” the mist, but the result was the same—the mist seemed to be telling her: Your “container” is full. You can’t fit any more.

  “So… this is the limit?”

  Pandora felt the current of energy within her, which had reached saturation and was no longer growing, and murmured to herself.

  She stopped ringing the bell and stood at the top of the clock tower, looking down at the silent vilge below, lost in thought.

  Since she could no longer improve, then this remaining “Corpse-Red Mist” couldn’t be wasted.

  Her idea was simple, and direct: if she couldn’t use it, then she would let Betty and the others, especially Aurora, have a “boost” as well.

  So, this was the real reason she had stopped the bell and was heading back toward the safe house.

  “So… My Lady is doing great, and this ‘Corpse-Red Mist’ can make us as powerful as you?”

  Betty looked at the reddish mist that seeped from Pandora’s body and drifted toward her and Aurora as if it had a life of its own, feeling incredibly amazed. Her little mind wasn’t one for overthinking. She had been following Aurora on the way here and hadn't paid much attention to the stuff. She had just assumed it was a normal phenomenon after killing monsters, never imagining it could have such a miraculous effect.

  She mimicked Pandora, trying to feel it carefully.

  It seemed… she did feel a little warmer, and her strength… seemed to have increased just a tiny bit?

  “Of course, it’s just a tiny bit.”

  Pandora couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Betty trying so hard to “perceive” it. “You’ll need to absorb a lot more to see any significant changes. See those over there? Those are the ‘gifts’ I left for you.”

  She pointed in the direction of the bakery. There, more than twenty zombies were still out there, drawn by the commotion coming from inside.

  “Speaking of which…”

  The smile on Pandora’s face vanished, her gaze turning sharp. “Why are all those zombies gathered around the bakery? And why are you two here? I recall telling you to stay in the safe house.”

  Hearing Pandora’s question, Aurora’s face paled.

  She immediately recounted what had happened, concise and to the point.

  Patrick’s foraging team, the dispute over a piece of bread, the horde it attracted, their desperate situation being trapped…

  Of course, this was from her and Betty’s perspective. Details they couldn’t have observed from their angle were naturally omitted.

  “We heard the bell stop,” Aurora’s voice held a trace of lingering fear. “We were worried that something had happened to you, My Lady… so we…”

  “So you ran out?” Pandora looked at her, then at Betty, whose face clearly said “I want to fight too,” and sighed helplessly. “You two… really are…”

  She shook her head but didn’t say anything more in the way of reprimand. After all, they were only worried about her. She appreciated the sentiment.

  “Alright, I have the basic picture.”

  Pandora’s voice cut through the silence at the alley’s entrance. The sharpness in her eyes slowly faded, repced by a rexed, teasing smile. “It seems our appearance inadvertently helped them ‘forage,’ but we cut their time a bit short…”

  She looked at Aurora and Betty, a meaningful curl to her lips:

  “No matter. It works out. You two won’t be idle anymore.”

  “Those remaining zombies, I’m leaving them to you.”

  “Elsa and I will provide support from the side. I’ll ensure your safety, but… the fighting, you'll have to do yourselves.”

  Pandora’s words left both Aurora and Betty stunned.

  Let them… kill those monsters?

  “Elsa.”

  Pandora didn’t give them time to react, speaking directly. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly through the silent street.

  Before the words had even faded, a figure, like the most loyal of shadows, slid silently from the shadows on the other side of the alley entrance, coming to a steady stop beside Pandora.

  It was Elsa, holding the blood-red greatsword of thorns.

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