As I thought, confident girls are much more charming.

   The igloo was quiet except for the uneven sound of breathing and the faint, eerie crackle of ice expanding beyond its thin walls. I set down the empty cup of hot chocolate and leaned forward, my eyes narrowing at Zephyra.

   “So,” I said slowly. “you’re trying to say that all of that—” I gestured toward the frozen Hydra visible through the semi-transparent wall of ice “—was Lilith’s doing?”

   “Yes. Even I was surprised. That power, that form, that aura…” She exhaled as though the memory still weighed on her. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

   “It was a Blood Ignition.”

   Before I could press further, Sylvia’s calm, firm voice cut through the igloo like the snap of ice. 

   “…Blood Ignition?” I echoed.

   Sylvia’s expression was solemn, though her hand moved with infinite gentleness as she brushed strands of pale hair from Lilith’s unconscious face. Her single visible eye gleamed in the dim light.

   “It’s an old technique—one unique to the Vermillion clan. The last time it was used was during the World War. By overworking the heart to produce more blood, the Ether Core produces more mana, tripling the potency of spells.”

   Her tone softened, almost breaking, as she looked at her daughter. 

   “For Lilith to have studied it, and succeeded… she must have hidden her effort for years.” Her fingers lingered, stroking the girl’s temple.

   Unease churned inside me. “But… wouldn’t something like that destroy her manatic system?”

   Zephyra raised one gloved hand, steadying her voice. “Not for Vermillions. Their bloodline carries vampiric regeneration. They can recover from strain that would cripple or kill anyone else.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Sylvia, then back to me. “It is still a lot of burden, but it won’t break her.”

   Relief seeped into my chest like a warm water. “…That’s good to hear.”

   But the words wouldn’t leave my head. Vampiric regeneration. Blood Ignition. My gaze fixed on Lilith, her chest rising and falling shallowly against her mother’s lap. Slowly, the puzzle pieces aligned.

   “Wait,” I whispered, my pulse quickening. “Does that mean she’s a—”

   I didn’t finish.

   A blur slammed into me with startling force, knocking me flat against the icy floor. The air burst from my lungs as my back hit the frozen ground. Before I could react, sharp agony seared into my neck.

   “Ghh—!” The cry tore out of me, cut short by the weight pressing me down.

   It was pain, sharp and raw—then it shifted. Heat flooded my veins as if fire had been poured directly into them. My pulse pounded in my ears, fast and irregular, my body caught between weakness and an intoxicating, unnatural pleasure. Each draw of blood left me dizzier, heavier, until the world tilted in disarray.

   Then the sensation ceased.

   Above me hovered Lilith’s face. Her cheeks were stained a feverish red, her lips faintly parted and glistening crimson, a droplet tracing down her chin. Her hair, once entirely bleached white, now flowed back to its soft rose color, streaked with pale strands that shimmered like frost under sunlight. Her eyes shimmered with a glow that was both unnatural and heartbreakingly beautiful.

   “…Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with warmth as a smile curved her lips.

   For the briefest heartbeat, one thought cut through the haze. 

   It’s true… girls with confidence really are more attractive.

   Then the weakness overwhelmed me. My vision narrowed, edges darkening as though ink spilled across my sight. 

   And then, silence. Darkness closed in, and I let it take me.