Volume 1, Chapter 18 – Elector

As the eldest daughter of the Valentine family, one of the Abyssal Electors, Cheryl Valentine had carried the mysterious and unfathomable will of the Abyss within her pure and flawless life from the moment she was born. Her extraordinary bloodline made her seem like a solitary flower covered in thorns, destined from birth to belong among the nobility.

Within the long gallery lined with portraits of generations of Valentines, humble words of praise never ceased.

Yet at some point, everyone who saw her began to feel a certain fear.

That fear seemed almost instinctive.

And whenever she asked her mother why, she would always receive the same answer.

Stray cats fear lions, and roses fear the hand reaching toward them.

And so, Cheryl began to believe that her uniqueness was something she had possessed from birth.

It was like a quiet flower blooming alone upon the sea of her heart. Only she could understand its beauty, and that beauty made her proud, free, and independent.

Gradually, she began trying to understand why others harbored feelings toward her that could almost be called fear. She started observing the faintest traces of displeasure on every person’s face and subconsciously provoking them in every way she could think of.

She burned down half the garden, only to receive the steward’s terrified apology as he blamed the flowers in the courtyard for not being fire-resistant enough.

She tried to shatter her opponent’s spine during practical combat class, only for the other girl to painfully climb back to her feet and look at her with eyes full of fear, too frightened to harbor even the slightest resentment.

Gradually, Cheryl came to understand something.

Only those inferior to her would envy or hate her.

Yet no one envied her, and no one hated her, because her position was not merely above anyone else’s.

Only those stronger than her would praise or disdain her.

Yet no one praised her, and no one disdained her, because her position was not beneath anyone else’s either.

Everything was simply because everyone else was too insignificant and weak. Merely standing before her already exhausted all their courage. They spoke, admitted their faults, then spoke again, yet throughout it all, deep within their hearts, they could only laugh bitterly at themselves.

Cheryl found them boring.

Rather than become angry with them, it was better to show these insignificant people mercy.

And so, she wrapped herself in a thick shell of arrogance. Nothing in the mortal world could break through it. No one could enter, and she did her best not to let herself out either.

Thus, her sense of superiority became almost as natural as breathing. She possessed a proud and unyielding soul, a soul as mad as poetry.

Although the family had countless illegitimate daughters because of the temperament of its elders, they were nothing more than mongrel demons. Not one of them could challenge her authority. Her life was entirely predictable. She would grow busier, her days and nights reversed, surrounded by crowds at certain moments, prosperity draped around her like splendid clothing, only for layer after layer to eventually fall away until nothing remained but desolation.

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‘How boring.’

Cheryl stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of the dormitory while her roommate carefully tidied the room behind her.

From the very first time they interacted, her so-called friend had already turned into a shadow that did nothing but agree with her.

She was an extremely proud person, so she had never had friends, and she did not care.

But if a person lived in this world without even having an opponent, that was true loneliness.

And so, Cheryl wanted something tremendous and violent to crash into her small life.

She longed for collision, for casting aside hollow games and schemes, for releasing herself without restraint, and even for the pain of having her heart and guts torn apart.

She wanted an opponent.

Everything that person possessed might even outlast her own life, and Cheryl would remember them until the day she died.

Stella Darkfallen.

At times like this, the name of that silver-haired, violet-eyed succubus would surface in her mind like a ghost.

Only that girl, that abstinent-type genius with SSS+ potential, had allowed her to taste humiliation and unwillingness.

Everything that had happened yesterday remained vivid in her mind. She had drunk deeply from the bitter wine of defeat, leaving not a single drop behind.

How real it had felt.

How miserable.

Cheryl stood for a long time before the brightly lit full-length mirror.

The girl reflected in the mirror had hair as red as fire. Three parts elegant, three parts pure and beautiful, three parts noble, with the final part carrying something faintly sickly.

“If you can’t completely break me…” She whispered to the mirror. “Then prepare yourself to be burned to ashes by me.”

The noise in the corridor that morning interrupted Cheryl’s thoughts.

Cheryl frowned slightly, opened the dormitory door, and stepped outside.

In the common lounge area of the House of Domination, a group of succubus freshmen had gathered in front of Stella’s private dormitory, whispering among themselves.

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“Look at the sign on the door… Does our school really allow something like this?”

“Shh~ She has special privileges from the Vice Principal. Who could stop her from doing whatever she wants? Don’t meddle in a genius’ business.”

“And I just saw Prefect Patolize rush out. The way she looked could absolutely be described as fleeing in panic.”

“Fleeing? Why would a dignified fifth-year Prefect need to flee? What did that genius do to her?”

“Who knows? It can’t possibly be because she couldn’t afford the consultation fee, right?”

“What are all of you making such a racket about?”

Cheryl spoke coldly.

The crowd instantly fell silent as cicadas in winter and automatically parted to make way for her.

Cheryl walked forward and saw the small blackboard hanging outside the door.

She stared at the elegant cursive writing on it and felt that her intelligence had suffered an unprecedented insult.

‘A genius’ private tutoring time?’

‘Emotional guidance, psychological analysis?’

‘What the hell is this?’

“Boring.”

Cheryl snorted coldly and turned to leave.

At that moment, there came a soft click.

The tightly shut door opened.

Cheryl’s footsteps paused. She took a step to the side and slipped into the shadows of the corridor, her gaze turning toward the doorway.

Stella Darkfallen walked out.

She was still dressed in her neat white smock, her silver hair hanging loosely around her. Her expression looked calm, but her eyes were somewhat unfocused, and a stiff smile that seemed on the verge of collapsing clung to the corners of her mouth.

‘That made four already.’

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Stella felt as though her brain had become a lump of dough kneaded completely out of shape.

Throughout the entire morning, she had received four succubi in succession. Every single one of them possessed an astonishing talent for sudden enlightenment, allowing them to twist the teachings she quoted from the Book of Holy Words into appalling declarations of criminal intent.

Now, merely hearing the words “I understand” was enough to make Stella’s skull start aching.

Following behind her was a petite succubus freshman.

The freshman’s entire face was flushed red, her breathing rapid, both hands tightly clasped together in front of her chest.

“I really… can’t thank you enough.”

The freshman’s voice trembled with excitement.

“Without your guidance, I might have continued wandering down the wrong path for a very long time. You were right. Competition with a rival should be open and aboveboard…” “Poisoning her beforehand really was far too underhanded and petty. I should challenge her directly to a duel to the death and cut off the root of the problem once and for all!”

The corner of Stella’s eye twitched slightly.

‘I’m tired.’

‘Just destroy everything.’

Maintaining the smile that was almost falling apart, she nodded.

“It’s good that you were able to… ‘understand.'”

The freshman ran off while thanking her profusely.

Stella rubbed between her brows and let out a long sigh, her eyes filled with utterly lifeless exhaustion.

This was taking years off her life.

She really could not take much more of this.

If another goddamn genius showed up, she really was going to use her fists for some physical persuasion.

Within the shadows, Cheryl, who had witnessed the entire process, narrowed her crimson eyes slightly.

That freshman had still been an ignorant newcomer when she went inside, yet when she came out, she seemed to have become a fanatical believer, even preparing to fight a duel to the death.

As for the undisguised exhaustion and indifference on Stella’s face, in Cheryl’s eyes, they were proof that Stella had simply grown bored with this kind of low-level training.

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Using her privileges to enslave and torment her own kind was already bad enough, yet she even made them gratefully hand over their money afterward?

Such arrogance.

Such greed.

“This is simply… outrageous.”

Cheryl spoke softly. Beneath her contemptuous expression, there seemed to be the faintest trace of pity, yet inwardly, she was growing excited by such absurd atrocities.

At the doorway, Stella gripped the doorknob, wanting nothing more than to close the door immediately.

Even going back inside and staring blankly at the wall would be better than this.

A hand covered in a black lace glove suddenly pressed against the door.

Stella was stunned.

She raised her head and saw hair as red as fire.

Cheryl Valentine stood there, tossing a heavy pouch of demon crystals with her other hand as she looked Stella up and down with the gaze of someone examining prey.

“After tormenting your classmates like that, you even make them willingly pay you afterward.” The corners of Cheryl’s lips rose. “Your methods really are interesting, Stella.”

“I’m next.”

“Let me see just how bloody your methods really are!”

Translator Note

HAHAHAH damn i laughing from start to finish HAHAHA XD

“If you can’t completely break me…”

That sounds wrong… Or maybe Cheryl literally meant it? LOL