The black-haired girl with dragon horns looked exactly like Xiadam, with the same figure—more alike than twins.
The only differences were their hairstyles and the extra pair of dragon horns.
“Why does she have horns when she’s human? She didn’t have any in her dragon form,” Xiadam wondered.
She grabbed the dragon horns for a closer look—they were genuinely growing out of Little Black’s head, not fake.
“Mommy, I don’t know,” the Black Dragon girl replied.
“Pfft~” Xiadam nearly burst out laughing.
Somehow, her tone was so amusing, completely mismatched with her appearance.
You see, the Black Dragon girl inherited Xiadam’s cold and expressionless looks perfectly, but the moment she spoke, she sounded like a clueless simpleton.
Though Xiadam’s own personality didn’t quite fit her looks either.
But she could fake being aloof and a master, matching her cold exterior whenever she wanted to show off.
“Ahhh~”
The Black Dragon girl didn’t understand anything, biting at thin air with such innocence it was almost scary.
Seeing her so naïve, Xiadam couldn’t help but show a gentle smile.
But she quickly realized this wouldn’t do.
“I can’t be a doting mother anymore. I have to be a strict father!”
Xiadam went to fetch a Black Mage Robe and dressed the Black Dragon girl in it. It was one of her spare outfits, perfect for the girl’s size.
“Waaah~” The Black Dragon girl resisted wearing clothes fiercely.
It took Xiadam a lot of effort to get the robe on her.
“What are you two doing?” Sheffield entered, closing the door behind her.
She had to use a key to get in because Xiadam had locked the door.
“Close the door quickly. From now on, I’m going to teach Little Black swordplay,” Xiadam said.
“Close the door? You’re going to show her off to others sooner or later anyway,” Sheffield said.
“But how do I hide these dragon horns?” Xiadam held the horns, shaking them slightly.
“You can’t hide them. Concealing your dragon horns drastically shortens the duration of your transformation. We dragons aren’t shapeshifters—no matter how much we transform, we can’t perfectly disguise ourselves as humans. I’m the exception because of the Curse Magic Against Ancient Dragons. I can’t turn into a dragon anymore,” Sheffield explained.
“But you can hide your turtle shell. Why not the horns? You dragons are really strange,” Xiadam scratched her head.
“You’re a dragon too. You’re a Half-Dragon,” Sheffield retorted.
“Ha, very funny,” Xiadam said bitterly.
She raised her right hand, which trembled slightly.
The sword strike that had just driven off the bandit leader had left her muscles aching.
“Why do you insist on drawing your sword with one hand at high speed to look cool? Why not draw it slowly? You’re asking for it,” Sheffield crossed her arms, showing no sympathy.
Xiadam loved showing off and willingly took the pain!
As a swordmaster, she had many ways to lessen the burden, but she always chose the most demanding fast swordplay.
It had to be fast! It had to be stylish! If you’re not cool, what kind of knight are you? If you’re not fast, what kind of swordsman?
“I’ve improved a lot. Now my hands just feel weak. The side effects of the Power Enhancement Technique have greatly decreased. One day, I’ll be able to perform One-Sword Eighteen Strikes,” Xiadam said stubbornly.
“Heh,” Sheffield snorted twice.
Then she pushed the door open and left the room.
“Where are you going?” Xiadam asked.
“To prepare the meat. You wouldn’t want to teach swordplay inside the room, would you?” Sheffield replied without looking back.
“Meat?” Xiadam grabbed the Black Dragon girl and followed Sheffield out.
The three of them left the castle and went to the wooden cabin behind it.
This was actually their real secret base for daily activities.
Because the two potato fields Xiadam cultivated were right in the castle’s backyard.
Anyway, the vampires didn’t use this outdoor wooden cabin, so they had taken it over.
There was also a table and chairs next to the cabin—perfect for afternoon tea, meditation, and training. And their old camping companion, the Stone Stove.
Too bad the Stone Pot Brothers had exploded. But they had replaced it with an even better Great Iron Pot.
Xiadam took the opportunity to water the potato fields.
“Clang~”
Sheffield flicked her small hand and opened a Void Rift, pulling out a dead giant crocodile.
“When did you get such a big fish? Keep it away from my potato seedlings,” Xiadam was stunned.
“I haven’t had a big stew in ages,” Sheffield looked at her expectantly.
“I’ve never cooked crocodile before…” Xiadam started sweating.
That didn’t seem like something in a normal human’s recipe book. She honestly had no idea how to cook crocodile.
But it didn’t matter; Sheffield wanted stew anyway.
With stew, it didn’t matter what meat you put in—it all ended up tasting the same.
“If you want to eat meat, you handle it yourself. My hands are shaking—I can’t lift the knife,” Xiadam said.
“No problem,” Sheffield summoned a Dragon Breath Magic Knife and turned to skin, debone, and chop the crocodile energetically.
Xiadam grabbed the Black Dragon girl, who was playing around with a Mithril Rapier like a stick, and pulled her aside.
“The sword isn’t used like that. You don’t have a stance. Let me teach you.”
She began hand-holding the Black Dragon girl, showing her how to grip the sword properly, how to stand firmly, and to always maintain the posture of a knight.
“She’s a Berserker. Teaching her these rules will only reduce her combat power. Her best fighting method is to Gatekeep Black Dragon and tear everything apart,” Sheffield commented while chopping the crocodile.
“Shut up when I’m teaching my disciple,” Xiadam snapped angrily.
Though Sheffield looked resentful, she spread her hands and really did keep quiet for now.
In their little family of three, Sheffield knew poor Xiadam’s last dignity was holding onto her authority as the elder while teaching.
That giant crocodile had been killed by Little Black with one punch. It probably could kill Xiadam in half a punch, yet Xiadam was the one teaching?
Sheffield kept these thoughts inside, unwilling to say them aloud.
“Ten thousand sword swings a day!”
Xiadam taught the Black Dragon girl the most basic exercise—unending vertical chops, commonly called the New Year’s Sword Style.
But for the Black Dragon girl, it was child’s play. She planted her feet firmly, wielding the Mithril Rapier to chop at the air obediently, thinking she was playing a game with Xiadam.
“Practicing chops with a rapier? Is this the Sword Saint of the Evil Dragon’s swordsmanship?” Sheffield couldn’t help but comment again.
It was too ridiculous to hold back.
“It’s Sword Saint!” Xiadam corrected firmly, sitting nearby to supervise.
“We should think of a name for her,” Sheffield said.
“Avalon Ludwig,” Xiadam answered instantly.
She had long since thought of a name for her dragon daughter.
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