Westheid kept drinking until his body could take no more, only then letting go of Mivana's wrist.
"Hah... Sorry. I got a little carried away and drank too much."
He didn't know exactly how much of Mivana's vital blood he had consumed, but judging by her somewhat pale face, it was clearly not an insignificant amount.
Mivana pulled her wrist back and stared blankly at Westheid, her beautiful golden eyes filled with incredulous shock.
"You're... you're still sane... Why? Why weren't you overcome by that desire?!"
"It was an incredibly strong impulse, but I managed to fight it off."
Westheid held out a hand to Mivana, asking for a weapon.
"We can talk about that later. Can I borrow your Silver Sword? It's urgent!"
Seeing Westheid's desperate expression and knowing they were in the middle of a crucial battle, Mivana lowered her head, unfastened her Knight's Silver Sword, and placed it in the hands of the black-haired, violet-eyed young man.
"Thanks."
SHLICK—
