Only a fool would actually give them the information they wanted.
Molly wasn't the only one who thought this; the other vampires also knew better than to divulge their families' information to these non-humans. The non-humans realized this too and knew it was time to make an example. The werewolf had initially intended to use Molly as that example, but when she stepped forward earlier, the vampires' indifferent reactions told him that killing Molly wouldn't make much of a difference.
This was a miscalculation on the werewolf's part. He had assumed that anyone allowed into the upper-class dining hall must be someone important—like a key figure in the banking system, a farm manager, or a researcher. These roles were crucial to the functioning of vampire society, and the humans who held them enjoyed substantial privileges and even protection from vampires. When the werewolf had seen Molly outside during the day, he had thought she must be someone significant.
But it turned out she was just an ordinary maid.
Someone like that wasn't even worth targeting.
The werewolf scanned the room, searching for a suitable target to make an example of. His gaze settled on the woman who had earlier cried out for her child. A sinister grin spread across his face as he reached out to her. "Well, well, weren't you the one so worried about your child? How about this—I'll give you a chance. Come over here, and I'll take you hostage instead, and your child can go free."
The woman's resolve wavered, and she nearly rushed over immediately, but her husband held her back. "Don't be foolish. They won't let our child go that easily. They might…"
But the woman brushed off her husband's hand and began to step toward the werewolf. Molly could hear the woman's footsteps and knew, just by the sound, that she was one of the weaker members of the vampire nobility.
And quite naive.
Molly felt no sympathy for the vampires. Even if this vampire woman or the child died right in front of her, she wouldn't bat an eye. She also noticed the werewolf's twisted smile and knew he intended to kill the woman the moment she got close.
The werewolf would never let the child go; he was too valuable as a hostage. The woman, on the other hand, would be a less effective bargaining chip. The other vampires wouldn't be swayed by her death—she had lived long enough that it wouldn't matter much if she died now.
As the woman moved closer to her child, the werewolf's grin widened, and he raised his blade. Molly wanted to sigh because she had already heard Adele's footsteps. Adele moved swiftly, reaching the woman before the werewolf could react. She yanked the woman back and extended her claws to block the werewolf's blade.
"You!"
The sound of metal clashing with claws rang out as the werewolf glared at Adele, surprised by her speed. But the rabbit, known for its agility among the beastfolk, quickly reacted, shouting, "Medusa!"
The robed figure pulled down her hood, revealing her face. She looked like a human woman, but instead of hair, her head was covered with writhing, slimy, sickly green snakes. They hissed with excitement as they emerged from the hood, flicking their tongues in the air. At the same time, Medusa opened her eyes.
Molly had never encountered such a creature before… But this was less of a non-human and more of a magical beast, wasn't it? Did such things even make sense?
As the vampires met Medusa's gaze, they became dazed, with some parts of their bodies even beginning to turn to stone. Molly, who remained unaffected, was momentarily at a loss.
—Seriously? A petrifying creature? How was she supposed to fake that?
Molly felt exhausted. A vampire's mind magic was manageable—she could simply feign a dazed expression and follow their instructions. But this was petrification. Molly had no idea how to pretend to be petrified.
She was so tired; she even considered just passing out.
But passing out wasn't the same as being petrified. Molly observed the other vampires, noting that they had turned grayish-white. She decided to try something similar. Slowly, she wrapped herself in her black threads, willing them to change color.
After much effort, her threads, which were essentially hair, began to age and turn gray-white, making her appear as if she had indeed been petrified. Moments later, Molly used the remaining threads to dig a hole in the floor and silently slipped through, unnoticed by everyone else.
The only problem was that she had to leave the outer layer of threads and her clothes behind.
When Molly landed on the lower floor, she quickly wrapped herself in more threads, forming a new set of clothes. But with most of her threads used upstairs, her new outfit was rather sparse.
Molly found herself in a storage room for the staff. She grabbed a black tablecloth and quickly sewed it together with the remaining threads, then reattached her hair and donned a veil. With that done, she perched on a table, listening intently to the sounds from above.
It was clear that Medusa's petrification had caused quite a bit of trouble for the vampires, as many of them cried out in pain:
"My hand!"
"My arm!"
"My leg!"
The shouts echoed above, but Molly didn't hear Adele's voice. She worried that poor Adele's throat had been petrified. Just as Molly was about to clear her ears, she heard a small, whimpering sound… To be precise, it was Adele's voice, trembling as she called out, "Molly?"
But there would be no answer from Molly. Adele seemed to muster all her strength, breaking free from Medusa's petrification. She ran a few steps and reached the place directly above Molly, where the fake Molly made of threads lay. Molly had no choice but to harden the threads, making them as stiff as stone.
The fake Molly she had crafted was surprisingly realistic, even up close. Molly could easily imagine Adele cradling the fake, carefully checking its condition. She heard Adele's voice again, more frantic this time, "Molly, Molly, what's wrong?!"
Molly would have been just as confused in her position. After all, the fake was just a bundle of hair, not a living being—no heartbeat, no pulse. It must have looked as if Molly were dead.
The werewolf sneered. "I didn't expect you to care so much about your maid," he said. "But by now, you all should realize that you can't defeat us. So, let's all cooperate and contact your families."
The werewolves had gone to great lengths to determine which of the Thirteen Clans the vampires belonged to. They weren't stupid; they wouldn't directly ask who was from the Black family—no one would admit it. They could kill all the vampires, but without knowing who was from the Black family, they would have to haul all the bodies back, and they weren't about to lug a bunch of corpses around.
So, they tried to extract information gradually, hoping to identify the Black family member. Ideally, they would capture one alive. Bringing back a living member of the Thirteen Clans would be a tremendous honor, and the client behind the operation would pay a fortune for it. Just thinking about it made the werewolf happy.
What a clever plan.
Molly silently applauded their strategy from below.
—But now, it's time to kill you.
Molly jumped off the table, ready to head back upstairs, slaughter those non-humans, and end this. But just as she landed, she heard Adele's voice from directly above. Adele had put down the fake Molly and was standing up. "So, you want money, do you?"
"We're just here for a peaceful transaction," the werewolf replied with a sly grin, his fur-covered face full of deceit.
Adele couldn't be that naive… Molly thought, just as she heard Adele say, "Then I'm the one you're looking for." Her voice was steady, with none of the earlier trembling when she had called for Molly.
"I'm Adele Black, a member of the Thirteen Clans. I'm worth more than everyone else here combined."
The werewolf's eyes gleamed. He had found it—the most valuable prize. Now, the only question was whether to take her alive or kill her to avoid complications during the journey. As he began weighing the pros and cons, the dining hall door suddenly slammed open again. The werewolf turned, surprised that someone had managed to bypass his team and enter, only to see a figure clad in black, much like Medusa, standing there. She held two Minotaurs by the neck and tossed them inside.
The werewolf scowled at the newcomer. "Who are you?!"
Could there be a powerful vampire on board? Damn it, their intel hadn't mentioned anything like that. After the werewolf asked, the woman in black chuckled. Her voice was low and steady, neither young nor old, making the werewolf estimate her human age at around thirty—though if she were a vampire, her age would be anyone's guess.
The woman raised her head slightly, her red eyes hidden beneath her black hood, clearly indicating she wasn't a vampire. The werewolf let out a breath of relief; as long as she wasn't a vampire, they might stand a chance. But something about her was unsettling. Despite his keen sense of smell, he couldn't detect her scent, and despite his sharp hearing, he couldn't hear her movements. She was dangerous.
The werewolf's question was answered when the woman spoke. "You've been impersonating the human resistance long enough. It's time I collected some interest," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
From her words, the werewolf realized: she was human.
The very thought made the werewolf want to laugh—just a human?!