Eternity Through Sacrifice

Chapter 38

[A/N] Thanks for 10k reads! I also thought we were due for a new cover so here we are :)

Marie Fylan slumped over and collapsed, short on breath. Mireille took in a deep, and sighed heavily. Mireille knelt down next to the collapsed girl who still had a slight grasp on her own consciousness. She rolled her eyes, "my god. If you're going to die from mana depletion, kindly do so at the Fylan Manor. I don't have any plans to live in a house haunted by you after all."

The maid whom Mireille had previously ordered dropped the mana potion and took a step back. Her mouth gaped in shock as she dropped to the ground. Her eyes widened and her entire soul seemed to shake as she backed away from the two young girls. 'Young Lady Mireille has finally committed murder!' was probably similar to whatever was going on in her head.

"What are you doing?"

The maid flinched at Mireille's sudden call and scurried back as she shook her head. The maid didn't look Mireille in the eye and kept her eyes glued to the ground. Mireille rolled her eyes once more. It wasn't like she had done anything to this maid? At most, Mireille was just an innocent little girl who had yet to turn thirteen.

She scanned the maid who was still shaking. She caught notice of the maid's well-trimmed brows. A certain incident from when Mireille had first arrived at the Argent Estate struck her. 'Oh, yes... There was the brow incident wasn't there?'

"Come feed her the mana potion, the Argent's don't pay you to grovel on the ground."

A sudden realization dawned upon the maid and she got to the task quickly. The colour returned to Marie Fylan's face quickly. It really wouldn't do her any good if this girl died right here and now. Mireille spat out another order reluctantly before walking off.

"Pick her up and settle her in a guest room to rest in; get the butler to settle the other matters."

The colour then drained from the maid's face. Not hearing any footsteps behind her, Mireille turned around to look at the maid. The maid was young, at most, she was in her early twenties. Mireille glanced back at the half-dead Marie Fylan lying on the grass. She was almost thirteen, and well, though thirteen was still young, children at that age were quite heavy. It would be difficult for the maid to pick up Marie.

"You watch over her, I will get the butler," Mireille sighed.

The young maid nodded and knelt on the grass next to Marie Fylan as Mireille walked away. She got the butler and let him handle things from then on. After, she returned to her room, pulled out a quill and some parchment, and began to write. The pen scratched against the rough paper as she wrote down the foreign letters of the stupid otome world. After she finished, she didn't sign off the letter or stamp it. The receiver would automatically know who sent this after receiving the letter anyway. She rolled up the letter and tied a green ribbon around it.

Now... how to send it? Surely, Mireille could use magic, but the chances of getting caught by Claude D'Argent before the letter even left the estate was too high. Plus, it would be ideal to keep the fact that she could use magic again a secret.

"Arf!"

Mireille jumped at the sudden bark. She turned around to see a familiar horned fluffball; it was the hellhound. She picked up the black and brown furred pup and pet it. "How did you get in without the guards catching you?"

She looked at the rambunctious pup again and smiled. Bingo~

She picked up another pretty ribbon she had lying around and fastened it on to the pup's back, being careful of its neck. She then tied the letter to the dog's back, cast a stabilizing spell, and smiled at the makeshift harness. "Doggy delivery services: featuring my own little hellhound." Mireille stopped and thought about the recipient of the letter's reaction to a hellhound. "Well, it might give that annoying lady a heart attack, but is it really my problem?"

Mireille put her forefinger up to the pup's forehead, sending the pup the location, and the image of the recipient. "Be a darling and go harass that old lady, won't you?"

She gave the pup some dried meat and it was on its way, practically soaring out the window as it left Mireille's room. The loud sound of footsteps neared the room, before Mireille's tranquil moments were interrupted by a certain screaming pink-haired bitch.

"Hey!"

Mireille opened the door and raised an eyebrow. "Y'know if I didn't know better, I'd think you were a howling werewolf-zombie hybrid or something."

"Do you know how rude you are?"

"I could've let you die in the garden; you tell me how rude I can be."

"Oh, shut up!"

"And what if I said 'no u'?"

Marie Fylan rolled her eyes, and waved her hand to put up another sound proof barrier. Mireille slammed the door shut. Marie crossed her legs as she plopped herself on Mireille's bed. "So what are we going to do about Lysithea losing the war?"

"Well, that's more of a 'you' problem and not a 'me' problem. Right, Miss Reverse Harem End?"

"Maybe stop being sarcastic, because Grifsid could kill us both if they win the war."

"Oh, please if they wanted to get into the Royal Capital to kill off the pillar families, Grifsid would need more than just elves. 'Cause the capital is actually super far from Grifsid. They'd probably run out of resources before they arrived. Large-scale teleportation is extremely difficult. At most, I could see them demanding control of the tower that the Belmont's have, or stripping the Clarkin family's rights to an offensive military, or they could just demand a shit ton of money." Mireille paused. "Or all of the above, in that order."

"Then what about the Festival of Lights in the winter?! What about my big day?"

Mireille raised an eyebrow. "That's not my problem Miss Harem End."

"Oh, come on! We can work this out! You don't have to be my villainess, we can find a replacement!"

Mireille stopped once more and pressed her lips together, giving a side glance to Marie Fylan. In her mind, she thought 'Pinkie' just wasn't gonna cut it anymore. Now the real question was deciding between the monikers 'no IQ coat hanger' or 'simping cotton candy'.

Life decisions really were hard to make, but handling an idiot was even harder.