On the ground, the gray-haired girl had lost consciousness after the entity that had been controlling her body departed.
Fortunately, her breathing remained steady—Enya hadn’t actually broken the innocent girl’s neck.
Enya rose to her feet and looked toward the mirror atop the vanity.
Her vision was excellent—even in this dimly lit room, she could clearly see her reflection.
In the mirror stood a woman in a nightgown, but behind her stretched a pair of pitch-black dragon wings and a long, black tail.
Her hands and feet had also morphed into clawed limbs.
This dragon bloodline came from the Black Dragon—so naturally, Enya had become a Black Dragon too.
Although… Rosily seemed to be silver…
She wasn’t sure when those wings had sprouted from her back.
With just a thought, she spread them—though their wingspan was under three meters, they gave her the genuine sensation that she could take flight.
Strange feedback from the wings flowed directly into her brain.
It was likely due to the ever-shifting magic energy in the surrounding space.
Enya instantly understood why such small wings could enable flight.
The wings weren’t just for flapping—they were designed to glide through the ocean of magic energy.
Barefoot, she stepped across the unconscious gray-haired girl’s body and stood before the mirror.
What had looked slightly blurry earlier now came into sharper focus, revealing more details of her face.
Tiny pastel-hued, glimmering dragon scales had emerged beneath her eyes, at the corners of her eyes, and at the center of her forehead—almost like makeup.
Tilting her head, Enya noticed her ears were gradually changing, taking on a more draconic shape.
Her current appearance could easily let her blend into the Dragon race without being seen as an outsider.
These transformations shifted her image from one of gentle elegance to awe-inspiring majesty.
She retrieved a vial of bright red magical potion—Bloodline Lock.
She downed it in one gulp.
Soon, a burning sensation swept through her body, but Enya didn’t utter a single sound during the transformation.
Before long, the potion’s effects took full hold, and her appearance returned to normal.
Only—the wings remained.
She couldn’t retract them anymore.
Unlike Rosily, who could casually hide hers, Enya’s partial transformation prevented full control.
She looked at the soft, pinkish wings in the mirror and gave a faint grimace.
But there wasn’t much she could do.
Cut them off?
It was a possible solution—but only a temporary one.
Her powerful regenerative ability would just grow them back.
Cutting them off was as good as doing nothing.
If she truly wanted to return to a human appearance, she had two options:
Either purge the dragon blood from her body—which would be akin to performing surgery on every single cell in her body…
Or fully accept the bloodline and stop being human altogether.
If she became a True Dragon, she could easily switch between human and dragon forms, and disguise those traits at will.
“…Forget it. I’ll leave it for now,” she muttered.
Looking down at her now-human hands and feet, Enya let out a long sigh.
That wicked woman could control her through the dragon blood flowing inside her.
Perhaps that was the point from the beginning—giving her Black Dragon blood just to make her easier to manipulate.
If Enya completed the transformation into a True Dragon, wouldn’t that be playing right into her hands?
Even if she gained the power to resist, one command from her would make Enya kneel.
Absolutely not.
I cannot become a dragon!
Enya clenched her fists.
She walked over to the bed and pulled a thin blanket over Rosily’s sleeping body, then gently caressed the girl’s cheek.
As she sensed her mother’s presence, Rosily’s sleeping face relaxed.
Her little brows stopped furrowing.
Placing a hand over her heart, Enya exhaled deeply, then turned her gaze toward the unconscious gray-haired girl on the floor.
She picked the girl up and left the room.
At the Temple of the Goddess, a nun on night duty answered the door after a few knocks.
When asked, Enya simply said someone needed medical attention.
After some hesitation, the door was opened.
They took the girl from Enya’s arms and asked her name.
After a brief pause, Enya gave an answer.
“Her name is Simona.”
It was a name she had learned from the girl’s dreams.
After leaving Simona in their care and turning to leave, the nun who had opened the door called out to her.
“Kind lady, the goddess will watch over you.”
“…Thank you.”
Enya didn’t believe in gods—not because she thought they didn’t exist in this world, but because she didn’t need divine favor.
As she neared her home, her footsteps suddenly slowed.
Then she sped up and rushed to the door.
The moment she opened it, Rosily stood right there.
Her beautiful eyes stared hard at Enya, fighting against the pull of sleep.
When she confirmed it was really Enya, the girl immediately threw herself into her arms.
“Mama…”
That single word held a trace of childlike grievance.
It struck Enya like lightning, sending a tremble through her entire body.
Warmth welled up in her eyes.
She quickly scooped up her daughter’s tiny form, gently stroking from the back of her head down to her spine, comforting her.
At the same time, she pressed Rosily tightly against her chest—shielding her from seeing Enya’s face.
In a soft voice, she said, “Mommy just stepped out for a little while. Everything’s okay.”
“Mm.”
Rosily buried her face into her mother’s neck.
Under Enya’s gentle comforting strokes, she finally closed her eyes.
Breathing in the faint, familiar fragrance, she felt a deep sense of safety from the bottom of her heart.
Enya held back her emotions, though a few tears still slipped down her cheeks.
Sensing that Rosily had fallen asleep, Enya carried her back to the bedroom and tucked her in.
She didn’t return to bed herself but quietly kept watch beside her daughter.
As she gazed at Rosily’s innocent face, memories of her daughter saying she would protect her resurfaced.
Enya clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists.
Rosily is my daughter—mine alone! Not that wicked woman’s!
That awful woman doesn’t just want to possess me—she even wants to take away my adorable daughter?
No way in hell.
Don’t even think about it!
Didn’t that wicked woman say “the loser becomes the wife”?
Next time, I will win.
I’ll make her experience everything I went through.
Over these past few days with her daughter, Enya had felt a peace she’d never known before.
It had even made her briefly consider just living out a quiet, pastoral life like this.
But today’s sudden appearance of that wicked woman reminded her of a harsh truth: in a world where losers are taken as wives, falling behind means getting beaten.
Only by being strong enough could she protect herself—and the people she loved.
So she wouldn’t just regain her former Tier Nine Legend power—she’d go beyond it.
Only then could she defeat that woman head-on!
And once Enya set her mind on something, she would absolutely see it through.
That’s what I like to hear