"I can't imagine how so many people survived in the dangerous Blood Eagle Corridor. They've lasted ten whole days and nights—where did they get food?"
On the barren land in Cadman City's inner district, Miss Mirian had received word and hurried over with the camp guards and a group of officials to take charge of the underground survivors. She asked Triss, who was riding beside her:
"Is the Blood Eagle Corridor really that big?"
"The Blood Eagle Clan has been entrenched here for four hundred years, my child. If vampires didn't mind living like rats, we could have clawed out a whole new Cadman City underground. The corridor is so vast you can't even imagine it, and there are also some special spaces warped by concealment spells.
"The younger vampires nowadays have no idea how many secret rooms are hidden in those layers upon layers of underground construction.
"Sigh. Since we're talking about the place, I have to mention it again: back in the day, I had a luxurious private suite in the corridor, too. The bedroom alone was bigger than that cursed house of mine!"
Triss still looked as drunk as ever.
Murphy had refused to let her go with him into the dangerous corridor, leaving Triss rather dejected. When word from below the corridor had come in a few hours earlier, she had already drowned herself in liquor and returned to her drunken stupor.
Mirian had been the one to drag her bodily out of bed.
After all, Murphy had gone off to fight, so Triss was the only one left at camp who could command respect.
Mirian was in charge of the camp, but the red-haired young woman sensibly kept the truth in mind: all her current authority came from Murphy's appointment.
That was how the power