Dark Fairy Tale: Tyrant, Conquered Cinderella at the Beginning

However, it seemed his personality was somewhat reserved, and he didn’t interact with others as much, appearing a bit lonely.

As for his background, he was also a fallen noble, but evidently, he had fallen even further.

His story of learning and growth was reminiscent of “záo bì tōu guāng” (凿壁偷光)*, a tale of hardship and perseverance.

[*An idiom that means to study diligently despite difficult conditions. It comes from a story about a poor scholar who drilled a hole in the wall to use his neighbor’s light to read.].

Precisely because of this, he might find it easier to break through when teaching poor children how to learn.

“Yes, my lord!” Sinton did not refuse, his demeanor seeming somewhat resigned to his fate.

Richard wasn’t concerned with Sinton’s current state; as long as one finds something they excel at, their field eventually becomes their comfort zone.

By that time, Sinton would naturally find his confidence.

After arranging everything, Richard instructed the knight squires to leave.

He continued drinking with Cinderella.

…

Night fell.

The laborers of Long Eagle Territory returned to their homes, dragging their tired bodies.

To call them “homes” was a bit of an exaggeration; in reality, they were just dilapidated shacks.

In the past, their shacks housed pigs, sheep, chickens, and ducks, which slept alongside them.

Though dirty, they were used to it.

The main reason was that it kept them warm and protected them from theft.

During cold days, when they couldn’t afford bedding, some would sleep hugging chickens or ducks, while others hugged pigs.

Waking up covered in manure didn’t bother them.

But now, all the livestock in Long Eagle Territory had been confiscated by the lord. The streets were cleaner, and although their rooms were still filthy, the excrement seemed to have been somewhat cleaned up.

This was a command from Richard.

Living in filth, surrounded by diseases, was akin to “yǎng gǔ” (养蛊)*, potentially breeding a strange plague at any time.

[*A term referring to the ancient practice of raising venomous creatures in a pot, allowing them to fight, with the survivor becoming a powerful curse-bearing entity. It implies breeding something dangerous or harmful.].

The villagers didn’t understand this; they only felt uncomfortable with the new, empty environment, lacking the familiar scent of the past.

However, they were too exhausted to complain or to harbor resentment toward the lord. A day’s work had drained their last ounce of energy.

They would use their last bit of strength to return home, then collapse into sleep.

Just like a pig that’s used to the mud, even if you wash it clean, it will still return to roll in the mire.

Richard’s efforts to clean up Long Eagle Territory not only removed the villagers from the filth but also took the filth away from them.

The changes in their environment naturally caused some withdrawal symptoms, which was to be expected.

The pain of development was inevitable, and as passive participants, the villagers had no choice but to adapt.

…

Under the dark sky, Long Eagle Territory was shrouded in mist, silent and eerie.

Occasionally, the cry of a vulture echoed in the air, before it descended on Harvey’s corpse hanging outside the town, feasting greedily.

A castle owl observed this scene, then took off, swooping down to catch a mouse in the flowerbed.

In the nearby forest, pairs of red eyes glowed in the darkness.

On closer inspection, they were all vampire bats hanging upside down on tree branches, sending chills down one’s spine.

One of the bats suddenly spread its wings and flew toward the castle.

The other bats hesitated but eventually returned to the depths of the forest, as if wary of something.

After all, as the castle housed a knight with a Life Seed, these bats were cautious.

They weren’t ordinary bats but rather pets raised by the forest witch, knowing well what they could and couldn’t provoke.

But as the saying goes, “rén wéi cái sǐ, niǎo wèi shí wáng” (人为财死，鸟为食亡)*, bats that have tasted human blood can’t resist its lure.

[*This saying means “people die for wealth, just as birds die for food.” It highlights how individuals often take great risks for personal gain.].

The lone bat stealthily approached the castle in the cover of night.

Its target was clear: a knight squire living near the castle.

It had calculated that this squire was the farthest from the lord, making it relatively the safest option.

As for the villagers, they weren’t even worthy prey; even the observing bats in the forest wouldn’t consider them.

Villagers’ blood was nutrient-poor, filled with impurities; drinking it was like searching for a coin in a manure pile—not worth the effort.

The blood of a knight, however, was different. Even a squire was trained in breathing techniques.

Their blood was rich, and their diet superior to that of villagers, occasionally containing traces of life force.

This life force was the seed of potential growth.

If absorbed by the bat, it might immediately elevate its status.

Inside the room, the knight was doing his nightly training when he heard a faint flapping sound but dismissed it as a passing bird.

The next moment, he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He opened his eyes, trying to swat the bat on his artery.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t lift his arm.

The bat’s venom clearly contained strong hallucinogenic and paralyzing effects.

Despair filled the knight squire’s eyes; he had hoped to earn great merits alongside his lord, but now he was about to fall here!

With a thud, he collapsed to the floor.

His breathing grew rapid as he struggled, not wanting to die, trying everything he could to resist, all in vain.

He attempted to knock something over to create noise, hoping to draw help.

But his surroundings were empty.

For the first time, he regretted keeping his training room so tidy.

As his consciousness dimmed, the bat’s belly swelled with his blood.

Finally, the bat left him and drifted back toward the forest.

Although still paralyzed, the knight’s life was spared.

The bat seemed wary of provoking the lord’s wrath or perhaps preferred to keep the knight alive for future use.

The forest bats eyed their satisfied companion enviously, itching to try as well, but it emitted a signal of caution.

It warned them that any attempt now would be too late; if they were discovered, none would return alive.

The bats hesitated, then flew deeper into the forest.

They planned to find some supernatural creatures to feed on; although it would be more challenging, they had no other options.