Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 190 - 1_1

Chapter 190: Chapter 1_1

In the night sky of the Demon World, two moons named Xiang Pa always hung simultaneously.

Patches of hyacinths had already risen from the earth early, rustling slightly in the cold night wind. They snaked around the outskirts of a small underground town. Among the clustered gardens, at the spot in the town closest to the surface of the earth, there stood a rundown mansion, not too small in size.

Be it night or day, illuminated by the alternating vibrant blues and reds of Emperor Polo, mischievous little burrower clan imps never dared to frolic near this mansion. This was because everyone knew that the lone inhabitant of the mansion encircled by the beautiful garden was a witch, beautiful yet ill-tempered.

This Miss Witch often suffered from some eye discomfort. When she occasionally went out, she almost always leaned on a crystal staff, with dark crystal spectacles perched on her nose. This made her fair and beautiful features stand out even more. Her frail body seemed as if it would topple over with even a gust of wind. Whenever she appeared in such a state, the hot-blooded men of the Demon Clan always had the urge to lend a hand.

However, everyone would only ever think about it. When Miss Ingrid had just moved in, a few local punks had dared to harbor inappropriate intentions. But sometimes before they could even touch the door, they were whisked away by Winged Knights of the Temple appearing from out of nowhere to have a heart-to-heart conversation in a secluded spot. That wasn’t even the worst part, rumour has it, the luckier ones had even encountered members of the Witch King’s personal Hollywood guard...

After a few such instances, everyone, no matter how foolish they were, understood that the witch was not to be trifled with. As a result, the vicinity of the mansion became considerably peaceful. Apart from the occasional sounds of piano music drifting from the house, only hummingbirds frolicked and played in the garden.

According to the owner of the branch store "Fertile Fields" Trading Company, widely regarded as the wisest man in town, Miss Ingrid Bauman was a renowned composer. The tunes she composed were not only coveted by the Main Temple, but also highly praised by the most refined Witch Kings and the throne itself. Therefore, despite the many disadvantages such as the early demise of her parents, her below-par proficiency in necromancy and medium techniques, and her blindness, she was still able to live a life far above the average standard of living in the Demon World.

Not to mention her grand piano that she frequently played, which was a luxury item unaffordable to the average household. In the Demon World, it was well known that metal resources were scarce. The sheer amount of metal used in an authentic piano alone would cost an astronomical amount of money, let alone authentic goods imported from the Aegean Continent.

For this reason, whenever periodic sounds of piano music drifted from the mansion late into the night, the neighbors did not complain about the noise disturb. Instead, they understood the difficulties of a musician’s creative process. Even if they were woken up several times, they merely turned over in bed and went back to sleep, without contemplating knocking at her door to complain.

Days passed with an almost serene tranquility. The mansion, having been neglected of repairs for years, suffered increasingly severe decay of the external walls every passing year. The hyacinths in the garden also often collapsed due to lack of care. Fortunately, the plants in the Demon World were known for their tenacity. Even without care, they still flourished around the mansion. This forced the stranger clad in a black cloak to navigate through an intricate path before reaching the mansion’s front door.

At the moment the front door was knocked, a few faint piano notes could still be heard from within the mansion. Not long after, the slightly impatient voice of the lady of the house rang out from behind the door: "Who is it?"

"Miss Ingrid? I’m the mechanoid abhorrent, Deis Mont, sent by the guild. I’ve been assigned to serve as your housekeeper," the man in the black cloak stood straight, his voice neither servile nor overbearing, like a young soldier answering his superior.

The front door slowly opened to reveal Miss Bauman clad in homewear and sunglasses, languidly standing at the entrance. "Housekeeper? I seem to recall something of the sort. I think I complained about the lack of maintenance of my house interfering with my creative environment when I handed in my composition a few days ago. Didn’t expect the eath Guild to be so efficient."

The housekeeper named Deis retracted his crystal arm from the door, the other parts of his body tightly wrapped in his cloak, wearing what seemed like a full crystal helm on his head and only revealing a bit around the mouth and nose. He did not engage in conversation, merely silently following Bauman into the house.

Walking ahead to lead the way, Bauman gradually furrowed her brows: "Such a strong smell of blood, did you just come back from the battlefield?"

"No, Miss," the cloaked housekeeper immediately responded respectfully. "I retired two months and sixteen days ago. I was part of the Scourge Army, but my troop number is confidential."

"I don’t need to know so much," the witch’s voice tinged with clear impatience. "I’m just a blind girl who has not yet undergone the reincarnation ceremony, my ears and nose are more sensitive than those of the average witch. Since you have been assigned by the upper echelons as a housekeeper, please bear this in mind."

Deis solemnly nodded in place: "Understood."

"Well, with someone like you, your entire body is most likely made up of weapons. It’s natural for you to have such a strong blood smell after battle since you’re probably unaware of to self-clean. What did you say your name was again?"

"Deis Mont."

"Such an artistically uninspiring name," said Bauman, clearly unimpressed, but she didn’t nitpick on the housekeeper’s name any further. After all, she knew that mechanoid abhorrent warriors were the newest type of soldier developed after the Demon Clan arrived in the Demon World. Combining Dwarf Crystal Technology with the traditional stitched-together corpses, they were formed through the conversion of body parts into crystal components.

Their intelligence was merely enlightened through simple arcane magic and they were purely used to charge into enemy lines on the battlefield, relying on their crystal armor or bodies that were hard as steel. For such assembled creatures, it’s pointless to demand anything too intricate.

"I apologize," the housekeeper from under his helmet did not express any dissatisfaction.

"You don’t have to act so serious, I can’t see it anyway," Bauman’s attitude didn’t seem to improve much despite the seriousness of the housekeeper. "How much do you know about the owner of this mansion?"

"Basically, before I came here, the Guild had input all the information about you, Miss, into my memory core. May I ask which specific part of the related content you would like me to retrieve?"

"I’m a little thirsty," Bauman’s finger tapped lightly on the tabletop.

"I’ll prepare as you’ve instructed." Dais turned towards the kitchen to leave.

Bauman didn’t turn her head, "Do you know what I need?"

"According to the data, there’s a seventy-five percent chance that you need tea, a twenty-one percent chance that you need Hiro fruit wine, and for other ...."

"I want tea!"

"Understood." Dais only stood at attention for a brief period while answering questions. As soon as the lich mistress’s direct command was given, he immediately headed straight for the kitchen. The information on the position of the tea cakes and boiling water were all in the data he had, all he needed to do was brew it.

Shortly after, an exquisitely patterned teacup was placed on the table in front of Bauman. Dais lifted the crystal teapot and slowly poured tea into the teacup, the liquid pouring out in a fine stream. Bauman was accustomed to sitting sideways, and thus the steam rising from the teacup didn’t fog up the dark lenses of her glasses.

While serving the tea, Dais spoke in his consistently calm voice, "Before undertaking this task, I went to the Brunei temple to listen to the hymns of the saintesses. The music you composed perfectly meshed with the choir’s voices, fully expressing our clan’s endless admiration and reverence towards the Dream Demon Goddess. It was deeply moving."

Bauman’s upper body didn’t turn towards the table, "Was that also part of the input data?"

"No, those were my own feelings I wanted to express."

"Really? I seem to remember that was a composition I wrote for the temple twenty years ago. I also gained my first success through that piece, and it seems that’s when my reputation as a blind prodigy composer began. Since then, various invitations have poured in, including ones for composing music for the Lich King’s banquet."

"Your tea is ready." Dais gently placed the teapot on the table, reminding her in a comparatively lower voice.

Bauman seemed to ignore him and continued to speak, "But that should be considered discarded data, right? I believe the current music industry has a different opinion of me, such as Ingrid; Bauman, once talented, now rests on her laurels...."

"No, I don’t have such records in my memory core."

"Is that so? It seems they filtered the data before input, didn’t they?" The lich lady finally turned her body around, slowly lifting the teacup to her lips.

"You’re overthinking it. Besides, the unfinished piece you were working on just before I entered was quite good. The melody was very beautiful."

"Truly devoid of any artistic sense." The teacup slowly moved away from her lips.

"Pardon?"

"This cup of tea, it’s just like your name."

The slender hand holding the teacup slightly tilted, and without any hesitation, the entire cup of tea was poured straight onto the floor.

For the lich lady who always valued elegance, this was an extremely rude way of expressing her emotions. After all, she could not curse loudly like any Burrower Clan woman, nor could she casually throw the teacup anywhere, or directly aim it towards the butler.

"Beautiful melody? You are nothing more than an abomination, even with all the crystal parts you’ve been outfitted with according to current customs. But you’re still just an abomination, a murder machine from the Undead Scourge! What right do you have to discuss the music I composed?" The mistress exploded in anger, yet never turned her head to face him.

Silence. A silence that lasted for about half a minute. The crystal helmet still firmly shielded almost all of Dais’ face.

Finally, from the mechanical steward who stood straight holding the tea tray, came the same calm and monotonous voice —

"I sincerely apologize."

There was no response. Bauman simply waved her hand, her back still turned. The mechanical abomination of a steward faithfully followed his master’s instructions and retreated from the living room. What was left was the same old darkness that had been present for a long time.

Blind Miss Bauman didn’t need any light. The crystal mechanized abomination steward Dais was the same.