Lorin’s heart had already given up—because she had officially stepped into the territory of the Blood Domain.
In fact, they were already very close to the heart of it all: the Grand City of Dracula.
But it was nothing like she had imagined.
Had Claire not explained things beforehand, Lorin would’ve thought they were still within human lands.
The lifestyles of the two races were shockingly similar.
Even their architectural styles were barely distinguishable.
Towering skyscrapers stood in the metropolis, while the smaller towns still carried that familiar air of worn-down neglect.
Throughout the journey, no matter how much Lorin pleaded, Claire remained unmoved.
In fact, she had gone so far as to…
Lorin stared at the glowing magical chain wrapped around her wrist, dumbfounded.
Claire had bound the two of them together with magic—just to crush her thoughts of escape.
The spell wouldn’t dissipate until they reached Dracula.
“You’re ruthless, Claire! Absolutely heartless!”
Lorin glared at her, puffing up like an angry kitten as she spat out her protest.
“Ow!”
“What was that for?!”
She clutched her head and looked up at Claire in confusion.
“Now that we’re in the Blood Domain,” Claire said with mock sternness, “your way of addressing me needs to change.”
Back in human lands, Claire didn’t care what Lorin called her.
But this was different.
This was the Blood Domain.
Here, there was always the risk of being recognized.
And if anyone did recognize Claire—and then noticed the little silver-haired girl trailing at her side—it wouldn’t take much for them to guess her identity.
The Princess.
“Why should I?!”
Lorin pouted defiantly, her eyes darting about the area.
She was observing her surroundings.
There was no way she’d let herself just stay put in the Blood Domain.
As soon as Claire let her guard down, she’d slip away and make a run for it.
“Christian Byrne… That name should sound familiar, no?”
Claire said casually, dropping the sentence like a blade.
Lorin froze.
The chill that ran down her spine was real.
That name… was her name from a previous life.
Christian Byrne.
The infamous Archmage from the Northern Continent, a so-called legend who delighted in questionable acts of charity.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lorin said, forcing a smile onto her face.
Claire shot her a glare.
“You better not.”
Then she turned around and resumed walking.
The Blood Clan was a race that could rival humans, and their level of technology was comparable.
Naturally, they had things like automobiles.
But cars were rarely seen outside of megacities—wild areas were too dangerous, constantly prowled by magical beasts.
Even cars enhanced with alchemy were no match for those threats.
Anyone who dared to drive between regions for business was gambling with their life.
If one in a hundred trips made a profit, it would be considered a miracle.
So, for most travelers, the options were limited to large-scale teleportation arrays, riding beasts… or good old-fashioned walking—nicknamed the “Route Eleven Express,” otherwise known as their two legs.
Claire wasn’t interested in becoming front-page news, nor were there any merchants crazy enough to risk an escort job with magical beast sightings increasing.
Thus, Lorin had no choice but to walk, her poor little legs aching with every step, stuffed into painfully tight leather shoes.
“Claire…” she started weakly.
“Hm?”
Claire glanced back.
“M-Mother Dearest!”
A true warrior knows when to bend.
Lorin told herself this silently.
“Where… where did you hear that name?”
“Oh, just something I overheard during my travels,” Claire said with a sly grin.
“They say that Archmage’s fellows left quite the trail of romantic disasters across the Northern Continent. I hear there’s even a bounty for him that’s made it all the way to our side of the world.”
“Must’ve had quite a few descendants by now… wouldn’t you say, my dear daughter?”
Lorin’s face stiffened. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Claire’s words carried a hidden meaning.
Still, she forced a chuckle.
“A-ha-ha… probably. I wouldn’t know, really.”
But inside, she was panicking.
How could news from the Northern Continent have reached the Central Mainland?!
The two continents were separated by an endless ocean.
A vast, deadly expanse teeming with sea monsters.
Crossing it was like attempting to leap across the heavens.
Only Archmages—those who had reached the pinnacle of magical mastery at the eighth rank—had the ability to traverse it.
And even then, success was never guaranteed.
That was why Lorin had never dared leave the Northern Continent in her previous life.
The risk was too high.
It was only by dumb luck that she had encountered Phyllis.
Back then, Lorin had found her half-buried in the snow and was about to finish the job when Phyllis suddenly opened her eyes and bit her.
No matter how hard she tried, Lorin couldn’t shake her off—and almost died from blood loss in the process.
And that was how their fated, or rather cursed, bond began.
***
Dracula, the Grand City at the heart of the Blood Domain, didn’t resemble a metropolis at all.
Instead, it looked like something out of the medieval era.
Towering cathedrals, bustling marketplaces, crowded public squares—it was a city steeped in tradition.
The Blood Clan revered this place as sacred ground.
To them, modern skyscrapers would only ruin its ancient charm.
As a result, many of the architectural marvels found in human megacities were absent here.
They had been relocated to another equally important city within the Blood Domain.
But that didn’t mean Dracula was technologically backward.
Devices like smartphones were still popular here.
Just a moment ago, Lorin spotted a young bloodkin with flushed cheeks, eyes glued to his phone, shouting phrases like “Damn it, third-party ambush again!” and “How many flights of stairs for one bag of rice?!”
Then his parents smacked him in public.
A patrol officer eventually stepped in to break it up.
It was such a common scene that it gave Lorin a strange sense of déjà vu—like she’d returned to her first life.
But…
Lorin gripped the glowing magical chain tightly, stumbling after Claire.
Cold sweat dotted her forehead.
She called out anxiously, “Mother Dearest! Wait a moment, please!”
“It’s getting late—shouldn’t we find somewhere to stay for the night? Barging into the castle unannounced like this… we might disturb someone. That wouldn’t be very polite, would it?”
As she spoke, she subtly tugged at the chain, trying to slow Claire down.
Claire simply scoffed, then turned and hoisted Lorin up without a hint of hesitation—flying straight toward the castle.
“Put me down! I’m delicate, you brute!”
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