Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 439 Is that someone familiar outside the door?

The long candles burned on the ornate candelabra, emitting pale cold light, and the hazy halos were like rippling moon rings, soft and cold. In the shadows that the candlelight could not reach, ghosts wandered, pouring out their past sorrows, making the whole room always linger with a resentment like a bone-attaching ulcer.

Neville couldn't stand such a gloomy atmosphere, especially when it didn't fit her mood at all, just like a sentimental novelist always likes to write a long paragraph of gorgeous words but empty emotions in his works, trying to impress readers, but in fact it's just a pretentious gesture. He will make an originally vulgar work become vulgar. Vulgar works can still be used to entertain, but vulgar works will only make people sick.

In order to avoid this uncomfortable atmosphere, she came to the open balcony, leaned on the soft and comfortable armchair, bathed in the blood-red moonlight, and leisurely tasted the most authentic Baishanbao black tea. At the same time, the sharp and shrill wolf howls were faintly heard in the distance, and the beams of magic cannons pierced the night sky. The war intensified, blood and fire were burning, and the victims turned into corpses buried in the mud, providing nutrients for the growth of mangroves. Every tree that fell on this night may be reborn from their flesh and blood in less than three months, with branches and leaves waving and lush.

By then, the Xugen Swamp remained the same as before, so peaceful as if nothing had happened.

The aliens are not the masters of the swamp, nor will they ever be.

With pale and slender fingers, she lifted the exquisite ceramic teacup to her lips and gently sipped the blood-colored red tea, savoring the long and rich changes of the warm liquid on her tongue. Compared with the cold and smelly blood, it was obviously more in line with the taste preferences of the vampires. This was also the reason why Nevelle always felt that those who loved to suck blood were defective products. Their tyrannical and cold image was more suitable for being called vampires by humans, rather than the elegant and noble dark night vampires.

Unfortunately, there are very few true vampires in this world. It's not because of the war, nor the brutal purges carried out by the cult, but simply because there are very few of them to begin with.

The smell of war and gunpowder wafting in the distance made her nostrils flare slightly, and her gentle breathing seemed to be tainted with the heat of blood and fire. The sounds of fighting and wailing that lingered in her ears for a long time were like donuts sprinkled with icing sugar and chocolate, providing Nevile with invaluable spiritual enjoyment.

Please don't get me wrong, she's not a psychopath who sees playing with human lives and killing living creatures as a different kind of excitement, and she has never had any hobbies in this regard, but she really wants to see those people die - whether it's the werewolves of Neoersu, the golden-maned lions of Divans, or even the vampires of Valenhild, it's best if they all die cleanly, without leaving any residue. This is a pure and beautiful wish from the heart, without any other complicated factors.

That's why she would sit here, drinking black tea, gazing at the flames of war in the distance, and gaining spiritual satisfaction from the successive deaths of these people, just like when the nobles in the classical period held afternoon tea parties, they were keen on talking about the gossips, emotional disputes, and strange stories inside and outside the palace and the ancient clans... to satisfy their curiosity.

Nevile used to be quite disdainful, but now she understands their mentality a little.

However, this peaceful time did not last long. When the long candle on the chandelier burned halfway, there was a sudden sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor, and soon stopped outside the door. Nevi frowned slightly, wondering why Gundalufu did not go to the front battlefield to lead his allies to fight against the united cult, but came here. Did he expect her to do him a second favor?

Then, a cold voice came from the heavy nanmu door: "Your Excellency the Countess..."

Nevill didn't listen to what he said next, because she had no interest in listening. In fact, she had already started to feel sick when she heard the voice, and felt a physical discomfort like a human seeing maggots in cheese. Even the fragrance of the black tea in her hand could not relieve this sudden bad mood. Borrefa, a bastard who crawled out of the sewer, actually had the courage to come to her. Was his brain poisoned when he poisoned his own father? Or did he stay with rats for too long and be infected with some kind of malignant disease?
Nevi put down the tea, thought for a while, and soon understood why this guy came to see her. In fact, it was not complicated. After all, this premature baby born from close relatives had his brain damaged by amniotic fluid in the womb. He always thought he was shrewd and scheming. Even the old lion of the Divans family who thought with his fists knew exactly what he was planning. The most terrible thing was that he had no self-knowledge. His arrogant and arrogant attitude was even more disgusting than the lame and stuttering old deer of the Esther family. At least the latter knew his own shortcomings, so he never spoke casually, while Berlefa was always eager to express his own opinions, stating some pedantic and vulgar arguments, trying to win over allies, but it was more like the gangs of little hooligans, narrow-minded and ridiculous.

He is insidious and vicious but considers himself magnanimous, impulsive and violent but claims to be tolerant, arrogant and pretentious, and is extremely ugly but still complacent... It is not an exaggeration to throw all the derogatory words that describe the lower limits of human beings at him. If there really is a god who created the world and life, then this guy should be the creation that He regrets the most.

If possible, I really don't want to deal with this guy, to be more precise, I don't want to die. So Nevi pretended not to hear the sound from outside the door, turned her head to the side, and admired the scenery outside the balcony. The outline of the blood moon was looming behind the fog, but the blood-red moonlight was exceptionally bright, dyeing every corner of the high cliffs and swamps.

dong dong——

Borrefa knocked on the door again, the knock was quite urgent, and there was a bit of impatience in his tone. It seemed that if he didn't respond to him, he would break in. This guy has always been like this. He thought he was scheming and patient, but in fact he was an intermittent manic patient dominated by impulsive emotions. The Valenhild family had fallen to the point where he was the leader. It was indeed the right decision to let those guys with bad eyes die together.

Nevile sighed helplessly, feeling sorry for having her tea party ruined. Just as she was about to ask Borrefa about his purpose, she suddenly heard a loud noise coming from outside the door. Borrefa let out a shrill wail like a rooster with its neck strangled, but it only lasted for a short time before it stopped abruptly. Then there was the muffled sound of a heavy object falling in the corridor, and everything became quiet, as if the sound was swallowed up by the darkness.

What happened to this guy? He committed suicide outside his room?
If that was true, Nevelle sincerely hoped that he could come back to life immediately and then commit suicide again, so that when he wailed, she could raise her teacup in time and take a sip of black tea to cheer him up.

Missing the most exciting performance, the silver-eyed countess was filled with regret. She stood up from the armchair, walked over to open the door, and wanted to see what happened in the corridor. Could it be that Borrefa was really tired of living and came here to perform a suicide show for her? Then she had misunderstood him. Although his life as a vampire was a complete failure and meaningless, he gave a very professional answer to the world's difficult question of how to play a clown well, which was full of rigorous and passionate research spirit, and deserved everyone's warm applause for him.

With a teasing and relaxed attitude, Nevile gently pushed open the heavy door. The moment she saw the scene outside the door, she was stunned.

The bloated and ugly body of Borrefa had indeed fallen to the cold floor, with a fatal wound on the back of his neck, blood gushing out of it. He was motionless like a dead pig, and his appearance when he died was just as funny as when he was born. What was even more impressive was that next to his body, a familiar little girl was holding a dagger, with a disgusted expression, occasionally stabbing Borrefa's gradually stiffening body, and muttering in a low voice: "He should be dead, right?"

“Leticia!?”

After Nevile realized what was happening, she blurted out, "Why are you here?"

　Give me some meow
　　
　
(End of this chapter)