The Black-Stockinged Nun Is Actually a Boy?! [26]

The explosion blasted the gates of the manor clean off their hinges. Natalie’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

When she woke up earlier this evening, the first thing she’d seen was Evelia and Helen buying explosives from the old priest. She had assumed they were for crafting or something similar—but when she heard they intended to blow up the gates of the Ares family’s country estate, her mind went completely blank.

The old priest had sworn up and down that no such dangerous contraband existed in the village. Yet the moment Evelia pressed a dagger to his throat, he dutifully fetched a stash of explosives from his dry cellar and offered them to Helen with both hands.

Helen explained that villages like this, tucked under the shadow of the Empire, doubled as black market hubs. Strange goods surfacing here was nothing unusual.

That part Natalie could accept. Constantinople sat at the crossroads of East and West; naturally there would be plenty of illicit smuggling.

What she had not expected was that such a peaceful-looking hamlet was complicit in it.

And this one explosion made her realize the Empire was not nearly as stable as it appeared on the surface.

Rome is doomed, isn’t it… she sighed inwardly, then turned to Helen. “The gates are down. What now?”

“The arrow’s nocked, it has to fly,” Helen said, before glancing at Evelia. “I recall Tier 1 Blood Assassins have an ability to mask their aura and appearance.”

Evelia gave a small nod, then drew out two white masks from beneath her skirt. “Wear these.”

Helen accepted one, turning it over in her hands.

A transcendent item, able to conceal aura and hide the face.

Tch. Noble ojou-sama really is rich.

“And you?” Natalie asked sharply, eyeing Evelia with distrust.

Helen might have invited her to cooperate, but Natalie didn’t like the girl—especially not when she stood so close to Helen.

Helen could only belong to her.

“As long as we kill everyone inside, no one will know it was me,” Evelia replied in a flat tone, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Natalie: …

Helen: …

Hassan-i-Sabbah’s Old Man of the Mountain school, is it?

“You can stay unmasked. That way they’ll assume it’s vampires attacking them—an information advantage.” Helen winced and pressed his hand to his temple.

The [Temptress Seed] inside him, blossoming into its Tier 2 form, was consuming the new [Seed]. The side effects left his body weak, aching, his movements sluggish. And it would only get worse until the breakthrough was complete.

But if he could endure it, he would ascend.

“Maybe we should abort tonight’s plan,” Natalie whispered, watching him in worry.

She cared more for Helen than for the Ares family.

“No. The bomb’s already gone off. If we stop now, we’ll never get this chance again.” Helen’s cheeks burned with feverish red, sweat beading on his brow.

Evelia asked calmly, “Do you need me to carry you?”

“You’re an assassin. You need mobility. Carrying me would cripple you.” Helen shook his head slightly. “Natalie… you carry me.”

A flicker of joy passed through Natalie’s heart. She quickly shifted him onto her back.

“Miss Evelia, I’ll be relying on you to take point,” Helen murmured, resting against her.

Evelia gave a silent nod.

It was strange for an assassin to be the vanguard, but with only three of them—Helen as support with light offense, Natalie as primary caster, Evelia as physical DPS—they had little choice.

They couldn’t exactly throw their mages into the front line. They weren’t battle-mages.

“Keep up,” Evelia said softly. She dropped from the treetops and darted through the shattered gate, lightning-quick, vanishing into the manor grounds.

Natalie summoned her Frost Broom and mounted with Helen on her back.

Normally she side-sat when flying. But with Helen on her shoulders, she had to straddle it properly to balance.

“Sorry, I might be making this awkward for you.” Helen realized the shift in posture, and why she’d done it.

“Do we really need to be so formal, Helen-chan~?” Natalie teased, and before he could protest, she kicked off, soaring after Evelia.

“I’m not your little sister!” Helen shouted indignantly.

But the rushing wind tore his words apart, feeding his mouth only a lungful of air instead.

Natalie chuckled and slid her mask on.

Helen, resigned, put his own mask on as well.

And so the three of them, a temporary strike team, stormed the Ares family’s estate.

The servants and hired hands had already been ordered to prepare defenses. At the sight of intruders, they armed themselves and counterattacked at once.

But the gulf between ordinary humans and transcendents revealed itself instantly. Each time a servant raised a musket to aim at Natalie and Helen flying overhead, Evelia silently reaped his life before the trigger could be pulled.

And whenever others tried to chase Evelia, fire and frost rained down from above, breaking their lines.

It was blitzkrieg—sudden, brutal, overwhelming. The Ares household guards faltered, unable to muster a coordinated response. Already the edges of panic spread.

“Friends of the blood clan, there must be some misunderstanding between us!”

The butler, dressed in formal uniform, rushed into the open and shouted desperately.

His plea was met with Evelia’s silver dagger.

Clang!

His right hand twisted, transforming into a writhing tentacle, and when it met the blade, the sound was not of flesh but iron striking iron.

“You’re not a Blood Elf,” Evelia said evenly, immediately springing back into the garden foliage.

“We are still Blood Elves. Only—evolved. A world apart from our inferior kin.”

From the shadows, Leo emerged, swirling his glass of red wine. He stepped behind the butler. “Right. The bushes on the right.”

At his words, the butler lashed out, his tentacles whipping long like scourges into the greenery.

Evelia was forced to leap clear, landing on the flagstone path.

“I am a Wyrd Stalker. As long as you carry flesh, I can sense you.” Leo swirled his wine lazily. “So I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself. Why assault our estate, Evelia Augustus?”

“Your death will be my answer,” Evelia said softly, vanishing into the hedges once more.

“Go after her—no, wait!” Leo suddenly froze mid-command, his senses prickling. He jerked his head upward.

Above them, a massive icicle the size of a truck plummeted from the sky.

“Young master, beware!” The butler leapt to shield Leo, moving to carry him clear of the strike.

But in that instant, visions swam before his eyes—his granddaughter, his late wife. His mind faltered.

From high above, Helen’s gaze shimmered with otherworldly light.

[Charm of the Mind]—activated!

Thoom!

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This is a fan translation of 黑丝修女姐姐居然是男孩子？ by 水滴磐石 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!