Volume 2, Chapter 37 ~I Added My Own Saliva

Under the stunned gaze of the three, the golden-haired girl placed one foot behind, gracefully leaned forward, brushed aside the hair before her brow with one hand, and cupped her chest with the other, careful not to let the milky threads stain her white buds.

Silken strands of white saliva fell into the vessel, merging with the churning, blood-like substance inside.

Though surprised, Felicia didn’t understand Teresa’s intentions. But she trusted her teammate—Teresa wouldn’t act pointlessly, not in such a critical moment.

Staring at Teresa’s golden hair, a thought crossed Felicia’s mind. Her amber eyes narrowed as she instinctively glanced at Teresa’s ears.

Impossible. She was clearly human.

And yet—

The thick, gray-black sludge in the vessel—once shifted from red to black to ashen gray—slowly began to regain color. The pallor lightened, becoming the pale red it had been in the beginning. Then it deepened—bright, but not quite the color of blood.

It worked??

Felicia was shocked. Despite her doubts, it confirmed her earlier suspicions.

She was stunned, but not completely surprised.

Yes—if this were true, it would explain so much. Why did Teresa have access to so many rare and odd items? Why this unknown dark horse had stood out in the Crown Tournament.

So the most mysterious figure beneath the radiant sun and moon… was her.

There was no time to dwell on it.

Felicia manipulated the vessel’s contents, hastening the churn. Activated by her Divine Authority and soul perception, the sludge rapidly filtered and ground itself into powder before dissolving entirely.

The essence was extracted from the impure blood mixture. Tiny crimson motes condensed in midair into solid form.

This was the final step in breaking the shackle—crystallization. Then absorption. Then success.

A deep-red crystal floated in the air. Its contained energy, in the form of vibrant particles, was drawn into the amber-eyed girl’s body.

As the vivid red faded, the solid crystal dulled, then dimmed completely—until it vanished.

A crimson mist rose around Felicia, gradually shifting to her color, becoming a dusky gold. This was the purest form of shackle-breaking energy, extracted from the purified crystal and absorbed by her.

Wenfu clutched her mouth, still tense despite their near-success. When the fluid in the vessel turned murky earlier, the little kitten had panicked—desperate to help, yet helpless.

Once the mist turned to gold and was fully inhaled, Felicia’s body began transforming the energy, condensing it. Air purity was crucial during this phase—but the courtyard’s ventilation and pristine environment made that a non-issue.

When Felicia opened her eyes again, a faint golden shimmer flickered across her amber irises. Her skin even looked subtly more radiant—perhaps from the light, perhaps not.

Before long, the cross-legged girl stood, her fine-textured hair swaying gently. Her every movement radiated a new confidence.

Silence fell. No one spoke.

Astrid couldn’t help but glance at Teresa.

After this, Teresa’s identity could no longer be considered a secret within their team. It went against her original intention to keep things hidden, but it had been a necessary decision. Astrid herself would’ve done the same.

“Congratulations, Felicia.” To Astrid’s surprise, Teresa appeared unbothered. She folded her hands at her waist and offered a calm, warm congratulation.

“It’s all thanks to you, Teresa.” Felicia smiled back gratefully. And said no more.

Though…

She couldn’t forget that among the materials she’d absorbed—was Teresa’s saliva…

A trace of unspoken color flickered across Felicia’s cheek.

Neither said anything. No need. All was understood.

“And of course, thank you too, Astrid.”

“It was nothing.” Astrid remained her usual quiet self.

“Meow…?” Wenfu tilted her head, looking between Felicia and Astrid, her tiny brows furrowing.

She still didn’t understand why Astrid’s blood hadn’t worked. But once Teresa’s saliva was added, the process succeeded instantly.

Could it be… that Astrid’s blood only worked when mixed with a little spit to help it ferment?

The kitten pouted, ears twitching in puzzlement. But since no one else brought it up, it must not have been a big deal.

The mission was a perfect success. Felicia’s dragon-heat issue was resolved. Everyone was happy.

***

The next day, Dylin brought the report to the General Affairs Office. Coincidentally, the staff member at the counter was the same bald mentor who had once advised them against venturing into Ruglian.

Upon seeing Dylin, the mentor exhaled in relief and patted his shoulder. “Glad to see you’ve come to your senses.”

“Kids these days, always chasing shortcuts… There are no shortcuts in life. Just don’t take the wrong path. But hey, I won’t lecture you. As long as you’ve realized it. The report and grades are secondary—you can always redo those. But life? You only get one. Ready to pick a new topic?”

“…Sir, I’m not here to change topics.”

“Not changing? Then why all those papers?”

The bald mentor paused, eyes falling to the pouch at Dylin’s waist.

“I’m here to submit our completed project report.”

“…Completed?” The mentor blinked. “You finished the project??”

“Yes.”

“And made it back safely?”

“Yes.”

“With your whole team intact??”

“Unless you were hoping we’d come back missing limbs or a member?” Dylin grinned.

“No, I—” The mentor’s eyes widened. “This isn’t a game! The fieldwork is the most important part of your semester. What you learn out there matters more than books or lectures—”

“I understand that, sir.”

“Then you know you can’t just half-ass these field assignments—”

“Here’s proof we went to Ruglian.” Dylin placed the pouch on the counter. “Goblin claws. Beastman remains.”

The mentor stared at the contents in shock.

“And here’s our team’s report. If you find anything amiss, I’m happy to revise it.”

With a more serious face, the bald mentor opened the report and began scanning it. He read aloud:

“Goblins often live in tribes at Ruglian’s outskirts. The wildlands aren’t ideal for goblin survival—seems they’re driven there out of necessity…”

“These creatures are weak and clumsy, lacking Divine Authority. Yet they’re surprisingly troublesome at night due to low visibility. Also, they exhibit a disturbing preference for females of other races…”

“Beastmen are divided into red, blue, and hybrids. Only the former two were encountered at the fringes. Blue beastmen are communal and extremely strong—far tougher than goblins…”

“The stereotype that beastmen are stupid isn’t quite right. Hybrids are dim, but blue ones understand team tactics…”

“That whole ‘honor-bound duelist’ trope likely applies to red beastmen only. I saw a group encircle my teammate in a relay assault. Without timely backup, we’d have lost someone.”

“Interestingly, both goblins and beastmen show an unusual fixation on females of other races. Since they inhabit the same region, we suspect a shared ancestry…”

“Field-tested: Red beastmen are nomadic and incredibly strong. Though they lack Divine Authority, they aren’t foes for regular teams.”

Dylin often used phrases like “field-tested” and “saw with my own eyes” to assert credibility, both as proof of real encounters and to make his claims more convincing—even if some details weren’t perfect.

The mentor could find no holes in the report. It was detailed and thoroughly grounded in real experience—nothing more to ask.

Still, protocol dictated a few closing questions.

“You did your homework.” The mentor nodded. “Still, I have to ask—how many hairs on a beastman’s back?”

Clearly a joke.

“Before I answer that, sir—do you know how many hairs are on your own head?” Dylin responded with a smile that bore a trace of Teresa’s mischief.

The mentor rubbed his bald head. “If we’re talking hair—zero.”

Report submitted. Approved. Dylin’s team officially returned to school life.

Soon, it would be time for finals—and then the long-awaited vacation.

Though their project was done, his academic leave wasn’t over. Still, it was best not to skip too many classes.

Looking around the familiar Divine Child classroom, Dylin realized—he hadn’t attended many classes this term.

He didn’t know these Divine Child classmates, and they certainly didn’t know him. Among these self-important honors students, a guy who skipped classes for an all-star party of beauties and still rose through the ranks didn’t earn much respect.

They didn’t even want to look at him.

But Dylin figured it wasn’t disdain—it was envy masked by pride. These so-called “real talents” just didn’t want to admit it.

Humans really were complicated creatures.

Propping his chin in thought, Dylin caught himself and shook his head.

Why was he even musing about that? He was human too.

After class, he shoved his hands in his pockets and left the room.

One thing about the Divine Child classrooms—unlike the Divine Princess classrooms where outcasts got the cold shoulder—here, people minded their own business. No one cared what clique you were in. It was more like silent, gentlemanly coexistence.

Divine Children embodied rationality. Unlike the more aggressive, status-driven Divine Princesses, they were calmer and more measured.

“Yo! You finally showed your face!”

Of course, there were exceptions—like the loud guy who came charging over now.

“What is it?”

“I heard you got into Class A, but I’ve been checking for days and couldn’t find a trace of you. Almost thought you’d disappeared!”

John huffed, trying to sling an arm around Dylin’s shoulder—only for Dylin to subtly dodge.

“What do you want?”

“Ugh, why’re you so cold now?” Though Dylin wore his usual mild smile, John sensed something different.

“You’ve changed.”

“Really?” Dylin glanced around the quiet Divine Child hallway. Everyone here was so focused they barely made noise walking. “I’d say you’re the odd one out.”

A faint floral fragrance drifted past Dylin’s shoulder. He paused, gaze following the golden silhouette that brushed by him…

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