I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

Chapter 250: The Training Ground

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the patio umbrella on the rooftop, casting a dappled light across the table. The shadows swayed gently in the breeze, silently measuring the passage of time.

Pandora set down her fork, having demolished the last of the dessert, and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“Alright then. Let’s leave it at that.” She stood up. “Keep in touch, Aurora. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, My Lady.” Aurora rose with her, offering a slight bow. Her gaze lingered on Pandora’s face, those usually stoic eyes now shimmering with a storm of conflicting emotions. She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to say something else. Her lips parted.

But in the end, she only managed a soft addition: “Please... take care of yourself.”

Her voice was so quiet it was almost carried away by the rooftop breeze.

Pandora’s footsteps hitched for a fraction of a second. She didn’t look back. She just raised a hand and gave a small wave. Then she rounded the corner of the stairwell. One step. Two steps. Swallowed by the shadows of the descending stairs.

..................

Leaving the restaurant behind, Pandora didn’t hurry off the campus. She took a path that felt both familiar and foreign, weaving past a few department buildings of varying architectural styles until she reached the outer perimeter of the grounds.

This was the official training facility run by The Corpse Hall. Housed in a cluster of repurposed buildings on the edge of the campus, all interconnected, it formed a rather massive complex.

The standard sector was packed year-round, the air thick with the ragged breathing of grueling physical conditioning and the sharp clang of metal on metal. Even though each cohort of apprentices only stuck around the campus for about three months, there was a never-ending pipeline of fresh meat arriving from the “Orchard,” keeping the headcount in a state of perfect equilibrium.

These standard zones, tailored mostly for Rank-1 apprentices, were obviously not Pandora’s destination. She didn’t slow down, making a beeline for a detached structure deeper inside the complex—one that looked decidedly quieter, with exterior walls that seemed significantly thicker.

The entrance featured a minimalist reception desk. A staff member in a grey uniform was head-down, sorting through a stack of paperwork.

“Hello. How can I help you today?” At the sound of footsteps, the clerk looked up, flashing a practiced, professional smile.

“I’d like to rent a Premium Zone.” Pandora’s tone was flat and businesslike. “For... let’s say four hours to start.”

A flicker of surprise, quickly smothered, passed through the receptionist’s eyes. Premium Zones were highly exclusive. There were only a handful on the entire campus, almost exclusively reserved for Apprentices who had hit Rank-3. The rates were steep, and they saw relatively low foot traffic. He knew practically all the Rank-3s operating on campus by sight, if not by name.

But the girl standing before him... He took a closer look. Clear eyes. A figure that was on the slight side. A face that still held lingering traces of youth. Definitely a new face.

“We currently have two Premium Zones available. One moment, please...” He didn’t pry, simply lowering his gaze to input commands into the console on his desk. “I’ll need to verify your identity. Please present your credentials.”

Pandora nodded. After getting out of the Disciplinary Court, reclaiming her possessions had been her first order of business—including the Palmfiend that rarely left her side. Right now, the little guy was resting quietly on her shoulder.

She gave the Palmfiend a gentle scratch on the back. It let out a soft, satisfied purr, then obediently scurried down her arm and hopped onto the sleek surface of the reception desk.

The console screen flickered. In a flash, the verification went through. A subtle, newfound respect crept into the receptionist’s demeanor.

“Premium Zone A-01 is now available. The rate is 120 contribution points per hour.” He paused before adding, “Additionally, if you require training golems, you can select them from the storage room inside. Different models and functionalities incur separate charges.”

“No problem.” Pandora nodded, completely unbothered.

The rental fee for a Premium Zone was no small sum for a fresh-faced apprentice. The initial stipend handed out to newbies upon enrollment wouldn’t even cover a single hour of this, let alone four.

But nowadays... to her, it was roughly the equivalent of half a vial of her own custom-brewed “Pandora-grade” Wormblood Brew. And that was basing it on the Academy’s official internal buyback rate. If she took it out to the black markets of the Dead City’s East District of Eden, a potion of this caliber would fetch an even steeper price.

While she was doing the mental math, the receptionist stepped out from behind the counter. He guided Pandora down a few brightly lit, spotless corridors. Flanking them were tightly shut metal doors, marked only with simple alphanumeric codes. The deeper they went, the quieter it got.

Finally, they came to a halt in front of a dark-grey metal door that looked exceptionally heavy.

Click...

A soft mechanical thunk. The massive door slid slowly to the side, revealing a cavernous, empty space beyond.

“This is A-01.” The receptionist stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. “The floor of the Premium Zone has been treated with multiple layers of composite materials. It can tank most conventional attacks from Rank-3 and below. The walls and ceiling have reinforced shielding as well, but...” He looked at Pandora, his tone turning a bit more serious. “Please try to keep a handle on your output. If you deal catastrophic damage to the room, the repair bills... will be steep.”

He pointed toward a smaller, secondary metal door at the far end of the room. “That’s the golem storage room. We have training golems of various models and specialties available for selection. You can process the rental or purchase directly using your Palmfiend.”

Pandora took a sweep of the room. The space was massive, roughly the footprint of two standard basketball courts. The floor was a matte dark grey, offering a slight bounce underfoot. The walls and ceiling shared the same color palette—smooth, seamless, and entirely devoid of decoration. The entire space was Spartan, cold, and strictly functional.

“Additionally,” the staff member continued, pointing to a conspicuous red button on the wall, “the facility is equipped with basic first-aid and emergency fail-safes. If an accident occurs, or if things spiral out of your control, hit that button. An alarm will sound, and we’ll intervene immediately.”

“Historically speaking, though,” he offered a polite smile, “the Premium Zones rarely see emergencies. The apprentices who book these rooms generally have a pretty solid grasp on their own power.”

“Understood.” Pandora nodded.

“Then, I wish you a productive training session.” The receptionist offered a slight bow and backed out of the room. The heavy metal door slid shut behind him.

Clack.

The sound of the lock engaging echoed sharply in the cavernous room.