Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant-Chapter 298: Marginal Gains

For a novice magician—someone who had only just begun to touch the fundamentals of magic—this was priceless. No amount of training could replicate its effect.

I looked back at the sphere.

’There’s no need to hesitate.’

That was my honest thought.

If I was going to face demon kings, ancient nobles, and whatever nightmare came next, then half-measures would get me killed.

To me now, it was only a single point of magic power.

Almost laughably small.

But to the original protagonist?

That same one point would have been priceless.

I knew that better than anyone. I’d cleared this game—wrung it dry.

By the time the original protagonist ever reached this region, they’d be drowning in elixirs, artifacts, divine blessings, and broken relics that made marginal gains meaningless.

For me, though?

Every scrap mattered.

—Gulp—

The liquid slid down my throat, cold and smooth.

It felt like swallowing melted ice cream—refreshing, soothing, almost indulgent.

The dull ache in my head vanished instantly, as if it had never been there in the first place. My mana settled, steady and obedient.

Worth it.

"...You’ve acquired another strange item," Velra said.

She had noticed immediately, of course.

The subtle ripple of mana didn’t escape her senses. She drifted closer, eyes faintly glowing as she studied me like a curious predator examining unfamiliar prey.

"First the device that neutralized the Dullahans’ armor," she continued, tilting her head, "and now this. Watching you feels less like observing a warrior and more like watching a merchant from the demon world."

I snorted.

"Parasites are weak, remember? Every single relic I get my hands on is life-saving. To us, these things are priceless."

"Mm." Velra didn’t look convinced.

She stepped closer.

Too close.

Her gaze locked onto mine, sharp and probing.

"Is my presence truly not enough for your survival?" she asked softly. "If you wished... we could deepen our contract."

The temperature in the cave dropped a degree.

My spine stiffened.

"No," I said instantly. "I’m fine."

The answer came out far firmer than I intended.

Velra froze.

Just for a moment—but I caught it.

Her lips tightened. The corner of her mouth twitched, irritation flashing through her expression before being smothered beneath noble composure.

"...I see," she said coolly.

I pretended not to notice and pressed on, deliberately casual.

"Look, a vampire contract already has plenty of perks. But the drawbacks are worse."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued despite herself.

"Such as?"

"For starters?" I said, counting on my fingers. "If you die, I die. That’s already more than enough pressure."

Velra scoffed.

"You speak as if my death is a realistic concern."

"That’s exactly why it is a concern," I shot back. "People like you don’t go quietly."

She clicked her tongue.

I continued before she could interrupt.

"And if we deepen it, who knows what else gets tied together? Pain? Injuries? Movement? Freedom?"

I shuddered slightly.

"I’m not interested in finding out whether getting stabbed means we both feel it."

Velra stared at me for a long moment.

Then, inside my head—

[It’s an obstruction. Just stay put. If you get injured, I won’t be unscathed either.]

I grimaced.

"...See?" I muttered. "Exactly what I mean."

Her expression shifted—annoyance giving way to reluctant contemplation.

Being restricted.

Bound tighter.

Caged and ’protected.’

Raised.

Yeah. No thanks.

I straightened and waved a hand dismissively.

"I’ve got what I wanted anyway. Why don’t you just pick some books casually, Lady Velra? Then we’ll head back."

Her irritation vanished instantly.

"...Books?" she repeated.

"Yes. Casually. Like a normal—well, as normal as you get—maid."

Velra’s eyes lit up.

"Well," she said, turning away far too eagerly, "there are a few volumes I wished to reference..."

She moved toward the shelves with sudden enthusiasm, fingers gliding over spines filled with magical theory, demonology, bloodcraft, and forbidden history.

I watched her go and shook my head.

’She really is easy to manage.’

A terrifying, ancient vampire noble—capable of leveling cities—

Distracted by books like a child in a candy store.

The contrast was absurd.

And somehow... kind of endearing.

Anyways, it was time to head back. I’d already taken what mattered most from the boss room of this dungeon.

Lingering any longer would only invite trouble.

"Pick only what you can carry," I added lazily. "No hoarding."

Velra paused mid-reach, fingers hovering over a thick, leather-bound tome.

"...You wound me," she said, glancing back with narrowed eyes. "Do you take me for a barbarian?"

"Yes."

She stared.

Then, with exaggerated dignity, she selected three books instead of the entire shelf.

"Hmph. These will suffice—for now."

I sighed in relief as she tucked them under her arm. If I hadn’t stopped her, I half-expected the dungeon to collapse out of spite.

With one last look around the chamber—its shattered core, cracked walls still faintly humming with residual mana—I turned toward the exit.

The dungeon felt... quiet now.

Not the oppressive silence from before, but the hollow stillness of something that had fulfilled its purpose and was waiting to fade.

"Velra," I said as we walked.

"Yes?"

"This dungeon will collapse soon."

She nodded calmly. "Naturally. The core has been harvested. It no longer has a reason to exist."

"...You say that like it’s obvious."

"It is," she replied. "Much like how you parasites abandon corpses once they’ve extracted all value."

"Hey," I said. "That’s rude."

"And accurate."

I couldn’t even argue with that.

The corridor ahead began to distort, cracks of pale light spreading along the walls like veins. Dust drifted down from the ceiling, pebbles skittering across the floor.

Right on cue.

"Let’s move," I said. "I don’t feel like getting buried alive."

We picked up the pace.

As we passed through the final stretch, the dungeon itself seemed to resist us—mana surging erratically, the air trembling with unstable energy. If I were alone, I’d have been sweating bullets.

Velra, on the other hand, walked as if we were strolling through a garden.

"You know," she said suddenly, "most would consider what you did back there... reckless."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

I smirked. "Reckless people don’t survive this long."

She hummed softly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.