Chapter 12 : She is a human trafficker

Cangwu City sat on the border of the Lanros Empire, neighboring the Bloodlands.

This proximity was exactly why Claire had come to this region.

What she hadn’t expected—no matter how wildly she imagined it—was that someone would come running up, begging to be her daughter.

Of course, if they wanted to make it in good time, they’d have to rely on magic for travel.

Leaving at dawn meant they could arrive by afternoon at the heart of the Bloodlands, the royal capital: the Great City of Dracula.

Due to the longstanding hostility between humans and bloodkin, the capital of Lanros had no direct teleportation array to the Great City of Dracula.

The only exception was the Holy City—a place where all races coexisted peacefully.

The continent’s finest magic academy was located there.

From the Holy City, one could teleport to nearly every corner of the main continent, including the Great City of Dracula.

But reaching the Holy City took so much time that Claire could have made a round trip between Cangwu and Dracula in the same span.

As the first light of dawn crept across the sky, Lorin was awakened by Claire, who was busy tidying up.

It was time to get ready.

And then came the scene just described…

The open plains were peaceful, a soft breeze brushing over the grass in rippling waves.

A quiet stream meandered nearby, its murmuring flow harmonizing with birdsong and the rustle of leaves and grass—a symphony of nature.

Along a small path, trodden by human feet, two small figures walked side by side in silence.

“Claire, actually, I’m an Eighth-Tier Archmage. If you promise not to take me to the Bloodlands, I can share the secret to breaking through to Tier Eight…”

Lorin offered, slyly.

“Oh? Then tell me, mighty Eighth-Tier Archmage, how exactly did you end up in my hands?”

Claire replied with a mocking smile.

“You—!”

Lorin spluttered.

“Claire, I’ve also discovered a method to cultivate both magic and swordsmanship at the same time. If you just let me—”

“Enough.”

Claire snapped, silencing Lorin with a mute spell.

Instantly, the world felt blissfully quiet.

Lorin had been babbling non-stop the entire journey, all in a desperate attempt to avoid going to the Bloodlands.

Claire believed Lorin truly did know how to break through to the eighth tier of magic.

But dual-cultivating swordsmanship and magic?

That was a hard pass.

The last person who tried that ended up as little more than a forgotten corpse.

Swordsmanship belonged to an entirely different system of power.

If someone lacked strong magical talent, they might instead choose the path of a swordsman.

Before reaching Tier Seven, a mage’s body was fragile—what people jokingly called “glass cannons.”

Swordsmen, by contrast, couldn’t use magic, but possessed immense physical strength, bolstered further by martial arts that refined their blood and body.

Both systems could reach the ultimate peak: Tier Nine.

At their height, practitioners of either path held power capable of shaking the very world.

Lorin dared to speak of dual cultivation because she truly had discovered a way to do it.

But Claire didn’t believe her—and silenced her for it.

As for how Lorin had obtained such a method… In her past life, she had indeed been an Eighth-Tier Archmage.

Part of the reason she had died was due to that very dual-cultivation technique.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”

No matter how hard Lorin tried to yell, not a single sound escaped her lips.

It was at that moment that Claire came to a stop. Lorin’s eyes lit up with hope.

She thought Claire had finally grown a conscience and was going to lift the mute spell.

“I’m going over there to buy a few things. Want to come along?”

Lorin’s expression darkened.

She shook her head.

Claire didn’t push.

“Then just stay right here. Don’t wander off.”

With that, she turned and headed into a nearby town.

She wasn’t worried about Lorin running away—she had more than enough ways to track her down.

The town Claire was heading to sat on the edge of the Bloodlands, making it the Lanros Empire’s closest outpost.

Because of its border location, an unusual and almost miraculous sight unfolded daily—humans and bloodkin living together in peace.

Everywhere, one could see bloodkin and humans trading goods, chatting casually, sharing little stories from their lives.

Right then, a bloodkin slowly approached Lorin, likely just seeking idle conversation.

Unfortunately, they were in for disappointment—Claire hadn’t removed Lorin’s mute spell.

Hearing soft footsteps behind her, Lorin turned around.

She was met with the sight of an elderly woman. Once, her hair must have been black and lustrous, but now time had painted it silver.

Her face bore the deep lines of age.

Each step the old woman took made her body tremble slightly.

Lorin felt like even the gentlest breeze might knock her down.

She hurried over to support her.

“You don’t see many kind young folks these days… And such a pretty one, too,” the old woman said with a warm smile.

Lorin gave a shy smile in return but said nothing.

“Little girl, why aren’t you speaking?” the old woman asked curiously.

Her eyes suddenly gleamed with a sharp light, as if piercing through Lorin’s secrets. She nodded thoughtfully.

“Ah, I see…”

Just as Lorin was beginning to wonder what this mysterious old lady was up to, she realized—she could speak again.

“I just don’t like talking much,” Lorin lied smoothly.

This kind of embarrassment wasn’t something she was about to share with a stranger.

“Where’s your mother, then?”

Clearly, the old woman had seen Claire walk off earlier and came over once she was gone.

“She’s not my mom!”

Lorin snapped, her face flushed with frustration.

The old woman blinked, momentarily stunned by Lorin’s reaction.

“Oh?”

“Let me tell you something…”

Lorin leaned in close to the woman—whose name, though unknown to Lorin, was Mabel Lynn.

Keeping a wary eye over her shoulder, she lowered her voice and whispered urgently, “She’s a human trafficker!”

Mabel Lynn was silent for a moment.

Then a wry smile curled at her lips.

So Claire couldn’t even keep her “daughter” in line… and now she was being accused of trafficking her.

“Ma’am, if you’re willing to help me, I can—”

Lorin began thinking through ways to win the old lady over.

Her instincts were usually right, and something about this woman told her she wasn’t ordinary.

Still… if she offered something too valuable, there was a risk.

What if the woman had bad intentions?

Mabel Lynn responded to Claire’s earlier request with a chuckle—low and teasing, with just a hint of rejection mixed in.

Her eyes curved in a pleasant smile, though the emotion didn’t reach them.

She raised both hands in a helpless gesture and said, “Ah, I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

The way she drew out her words made it abundantly clear—she had zero interest in meddling in Claire’s “family matters.”

Since retiring, Mabel had been wandering the world.

It was only now that she realized how miserable life had been as queen.

Waking up every day to hundreds of overdue documents?

No thank you—never again.

“All right,” she said, waving a hand.

“Your mother’s coming back. I’ll be off.”

Lorin turned—and sure enough, Claire had finished shopping and was on her way back.

Claire approached, eyes narrowing as she watched Mabel Lynn walk away.

There was something… familiar about her.

But she didn’t dwell on it.

Right now, the top priority was returning to the Great City of Dracula—and stabilizing her younger sister, Phyllis Lynn.