The Delicate Female Lead Only Wants to be Loved by the Villainous Young Ladies

Chapter 58

Adele was still focused on trying to increase her magic refinement level from a pathetic 0.5 to a slightly less pathetic 1, completely oblivious to the silent war brewing outside the training grounds.

Hermione’s expression was unreadable, her aura growing colder, more menacing, with each passing moment.

Dorothy, on the other hand, maintained her usual cheerful facade, her smile as sweet as poison, her eyes gleaming with a hidden amusement that sent shivers down your spine.

Both of them were Sequence One vampires, both renowned for their power, their strength. And yet, there had never been a true confrontation between them, a decisive battle that would settle the question of who was stronger.

Dorothy only did what amused her, and Hermione lacked the competitive drive to challenge her. They had sparred once, during the year-end ranking assessment, but it had been a halfhearted affair, neither of them truly pushing the other to their limits. The instructors had initially declared it a draw, but the academy’s higher-ups had intervened, forcing them to choose a winner.

Hermione, who didn’t care for titles or rankings, and who considered Dorothy a friend, had conceded defeat.

But now… now Hermione had something, someone, worth fighting for.

She wouldn’t back down so easily this time.

“I’m not someone you can manipulate at will, Dorothy,” she said, her voice calm, her gaze meeting Dorothy’s without a hint of fear or subservience.

The temperature plummeted, a chill wind whipping through the air, frost forming on the leaves and petals of the nearby flowers.

Hermione wasn’t playing games.

Dorothy’s eyes, narrowed to slits, their crimson color deepening, finally opened fully, their gaze locking onto Hermione.

Hermione was taller, her silver-blue hair and sharp features giving her an aura of cold, aloof elegance. But even her imposing presence couldn’t overshadow Dorothy.

Dorothy simply smiled, her carefree demeanor unwavering, her smile as disarming as ever. She effortlessly neutralized Hermione’s aura, the icy chill unable to penetrate her defenses.

As a Familiar vampire, Dorothy was protected by her familiar, Azathoth. The specifics of their bond were unknown, but it was clearly powerful enough to shield her from Hermione’s magic.

And then, with a mere thought, Dorothy turned the tables, unleashing a wave of oppressive energy that washed over Hermione, sending shivers down her spine.

It felt like an abyss had opened up before her, a bottomless chasm filled with an ancient, unknowable presence. Something was watching her from the darkness, its gaze cold and calculating.

Even Hermione, the Ice Queen, felt a chill creep into her heart.

“You’re not serious, are you, Hermione~?” Dorothy asked, her voice light, almost teasing.

She was still willing to forgive Hermione, to let this go. All Hermione had to do was back down, to concede. An apology wasn’t necessary. That would be too humiliating. Just a simple retraction of her earlier statement, and Dorothy would forget this ever happened.

After all, they were friends.

Hermione was one of Dorothy’s few friends, even if her importance had diminished somewhat in light of Adele’s arrival. But Dorothy’s chaotic, impulsive nature needed someone like Hermione, someone stable, someone reliable, to keep her grounded.

If Dorothy lost everyone she cared about… well, the consequences were unimaginable.

Azathoth might just decide to destroy the world.

But despite the pressure, the fear that was gnawing at her, Hermione stood her ground, her gaze fixed on Adele’s distant figure.

Adele, a lowly Sequence Five… and yet, she gave Hermione strength, a reason to fight, a purpose she had never known before.

It sounded… ridiculous, didn’t it?

A wry smile curved Hermione’s lips, a smile that surprisingly suited her face. She just didn’t smile very often. She was always so cold, so distant.

Even Adele had only seen her smile a handful of times.

As for Dorothy… well, she was mesmerized by that smile, a flicker of jealousy igniting within her.

Why had Hermione never smiled like that when they were together? Why was it only for Adele?

*It’s not fair…*

*Why am I always left out?*

*Aren’t we friends?*

*We are friends!*

Dorothy’s eyes darkened, the crimson color deepening, as if blood were about to spill from their depths.

She took a step forward, her hand shooting out to grab Hermione’s collar.

Ice instantly encased her hand, frost spreading up her arm, threatening to engulf her entire body.

But Dorothy didn’t flinch. She was like a doll, impervious to pain.

*If only it were that simple…*

“I won’t ask again, Hermione,” she said, her voice low, dangerous.

“Answer me…!”

Hermione took a deep breath, her gaze meeting Dorothy’s. She had underestimated Dorothy’s power. All those practice sessions, those simulations… they hadn’t prepared her for this, for the sheer intensity of Dorothy’s aura, the raw power that radiated from her.

But even if she was facing a brick wall, she would keep hitting it until it crumbled.

“I won’t say it again either, Dorothy,” she said, her voice firm, unwavering. “I won’t let go. My feelings for Adele are real!”

“She’s not your toy!”

“And she’s not mine!”

“I’m not afraid of you. And I won’t leave her.”

“I challenge you to a duel. Three days from now, at the ranking tournament.”

The ranking tournament, held every Monday, was a chance for the upperclassmen to test their skills against each other, to earn points for their respective classes, and to climb the ranks within the academy.

“If I win, you’ll leave Adele alone.”

“And if you lose?” Dorothy asked, a smile curving her lips. It was a silent smile, but somehow… it seemed tinged with sadness.

Hermione’s eyes, cold and blue as glacial ice, narrowed.

“I won’t lose.”

“Unless I’m dead.”

………………

When Adele’s class ended, both Hermione and Dorothy were gone. Sequence Ones, when deciding the fate of their prey, had an unspoken agreement to avoid each other.

But Adele… well, she was no longer mere “prey” to them.

She wandered over to a nearby flower bed, her gaze drawn to a frost-covered flower. She picked it up, her brow furrowing in thought.

*Did it freeze because it was dying, or did it die because it froze?*

She gently brushed the frost away, revealing the delicate petals beneath. The ice melted in her hand, the water dripping through her fingers.

Adele shivered. She wasn’t particularly strong, her human heritage making her susceptible to the cold.

She carefully buried the flower in the soft earth, hoping that it would bloom again in the spring, or perhaps nourish the other flowers.

With a sigh, she stood up, dusting off her hands.

She was about to head back to her dorm when a timid voice called out to her.

“…Adele? Are you done with class?”

The voice sounded familiar, but Adele couldn’t quite place it. There was a hesitancy, an awkwardness to the way the question was phrased, as if the speaker were nervous, unsure of themselves.

*Maybe she’s just shy… A bit of a social recluse…*

And then, it hit her.

Of course! She recognized the voice now.

Her mind raced, piecing together the clues, identifying the speaker.

She turned, her face brightening with a smile.

“Sharon!?”

*Wait, no. Too enthusiastic. That’ll scare her.*

She quickly toned down her expression, forcing herself to appear calm, collected.

But that didn’t change the fact that Sharon was her next target.

Sharon, hearing her name, her voice, froze, her eyes widening in disbelief. Was that… was that really for her? Was Adele actually happy to see her?

*Maybe I’m just imagining things…*

*Adele has no reason to be nice to me… To someone like me…*

Doubt gnawed at her, her heart sinking. Her pale gold eyes, framed by her silvery-gray bangs, flickered with a mixture of hope and despair.

“…Y-Yes, it’s me. I was just… passing by.”

There was no “just passing by.” Sharon was Dorothy’s loyal follower, her shadow. She had witnessed the confrontation between Dorothy and Hermione, the way they had both fought for Adele’s attention, their jealousy a palpable force.

Despair had washed over her.

But at least… she still had her dreams. In her dreams, no one could take Adele away from her. Not even Hermione. Not even Princess Dorothy.

This was one of the few things that gave her courage, a flicker of confidence in a world that constantly reminded her of her own insignificance.

After Dorothy had left, Sharon had lingered, waiting for Adele’s class to end. She had imagined countless scenarios, countless ways to approach her.

But she wasn’t good at pretending. Her affection for Adele, her admiration, was always evident, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

She was gentle with Adele, treating her like a goddess, someone to be worshipped, not touched.

She had only tasted Adele’s blood once, a single drop from a cut on her finger. Pathetic, compared to the other Sequence Ones.

But Sharon didn’t feel sorry for herself. The original Adele might have hated Dorothy, hated Hermione, hated those twins… but she had never truly shown any animosity towards Sharon.

Sharon had always cherished that fact, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline, a sign that she was somehow closer to Adele’s heart than the others.

But the truth was… she was just a little less hated.

“What a coincidence! I just finished class too.” Adele smiled, her voice warm and inviting, as she approached Sharon.

She wouldn’t call Sharon out on her clumsy acting. In fact, she found it rather endearing.

It even sparked a mischievous urge within her, a desire to… well, to tease her a little.

Sharon’s timid demeanor, her lack of confidence, her nervous fidgeting… it was like she was begging to be bullied.

Adele wanted to see her cry, to hear her whimper and plead, to break her down until she was completely dependent on her, her every thought and emotion colored by Adele’s presence.

*No… Stop it, Adele.*

*You can’t do that to her.*

*Be nice. Be gentle.*

Freud had proposed that the human psyche was composed of three parts: the id, the ego, and the superego. The id was the primal, instinctual part of the mind, driven by base desires and impulses. The ego was the conscious, rational part of the mind, trying to mediate between the id and the external world. And the superego was the moral compass, the internalized values and ideals that guided our behavior.

Right now, Adele was caught between her id and her ego, her desire to tease and torment clashing with her rational mind, her sense of… well, basic human decency.

And surprisingly… it seemed like her superego was winning.

*Weird.*

*Better read that again…*

To distract herself from her less-than-noble thoughts, Adele bit down on her tongue, hard.

“Are you… are you alright, Adele?” Sharon asked, her voice laced with concern as she heard Adele gasp in pain.

Adele looked at her, her heart melting at the genuine worry she saw in her eyes. Even her long, silvery-gray bangs, which almost covered her eyes, couldn’t hide her concern.

“…I’m fine. Just bit my tongue,” Adele said, her cheeks flushing. It sounded stupid, but it was the truth.

“I guess I was just… excited to see you, Sharon.”

“You… You wanted to see me?” Sharon stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

“You’re… happy to see me?”

It felt like fireworks were exploding in her brain, a dazzling display of light and color that left her breathless, her heart pounding so hard it almost hurt.

But the pain was a welcome reminder that this wasn’t a dream. This was real.

Adele, sensing Sharon’s hesitation, took a step closer.

Sharon, overwhelmed, instinctively took a step back.

*No! What am I doing?*

If Adele pulled away now, if she misinterpreted Sharon’s reaction, Sharon would never forgive herself. She would hate herself for being so cowardly, so incapable of holding onto the one person who brought her joy.

But Adele, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. She simply took another step closer, closing the distance between them until their bodies were almost touching, their breaths mingling.

Sharon’s hair brushed against Adele’s cheek, sending shivers down her spine.

Adele reached out, her hand taking Sharon’s in a gentle, reassuring grip.

*Just like in my dreams…*

“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” Adele asked, her voice soft, her thumb gently caressing Sharon’s palm, as if trying to share her warmth with her.

“You’re different, Sharon. You’re always so kind to me. You never force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

“And you came here to see me, didn’t you?”

“I know~”

“You’re a good girl, Sharon.”

“I… I really like you.”