A cool breeze brushed past her ear.
Lisbeth sat at the front of the saddle, her tall figure nearly matching Tulia’s, and with those perfect proportions, her legs looked even longer.
Yet she habitually nestled her whole weight in her mother’s embrace, like a little girl seeking shelter, a stark contrast to her graceful, mature appearance.
“Mom,” she said, her voice as melodious as a clear spring trickling over jade, yet with the undisguised candor unique to children, “that old white-haired man… he looked so fierce. Why didn’t we just ask him where we are?”
“Old man?” Tulia was amused by such a blunt form of address.
She turned to look at Lisbeth’s profile, so like her own yet even more youthful and radiant, reached out a finger, and gently pinched her upturned nose—a gesture unchanged since childhood, though now she had to lift her arm a bit higher.
“Silly girl, you mustn’t be so rude. When you meet someone that age, you should call him sir. Remember that, okay?”
This form of address carried a touch of Tulia’s own playful mischief.
There was not a trace of severity in her tone—only indulgence, so full it nearly overflowed, as if she were scolding her kitten for scratching the curtains, with helpless affection.
“But…”
Lisbeth pouted her rosy lips slightly. On her mature and beautiful face, this expression created a strange, almost innocent allure.
She argued with innocent logic, “But his hair is way whiter than yours, Mom, and his face is all wrinkly! Isn’t he just a really, really old grandpa?”
Tulia finally couldn’t help but laugh, her chest shaking with delight. She rested her chin on her daughter’s fragrant silver hair, her voice soft as a lullaby:
“My little princess, you can’t judge people by appearances alone. Some may grow old, but inside still lives a brave knight. Like Grandpa Lyon—just now, he swung the Knight’s Sword and protected us, didn’t he? For those who help us, we should be grateful, understand?”
“Okay…”
Lisbeth replied, half-understanding, her long silver lashes fluttering as she repeated the words softly.
Even though she still thought of him as an “old, wrinkly man,” if Mom said he was a good knight, she’d remember to call him that.
But Tulia’s smile faded, replaced by a hint of gravity. Beneath her calm surface, her heart was not so tranquil.
Lyon Hank.
That name was like a hundred-year-old stale hardtack, striking her with dizziness.
Who could have guessed that after just a nap, the hot-blooded youth from back then had turned into a grumpy old man brandishing a Portable Mana Cannon at security officers?!
Worse still, this meant they were right near Aiden City—the one place she most wanted to avoid!
“Damn it!” Tulia wailed inwardly, “I ran three thousand miles with my coffin to get away from that lunatic Sophia, and now the elf’s Transmission Spell just dumped me back home?! What a trash spell, I want a refund!”
She looked down at the silly daughter in her arms still muttering “old grandpa,” and then thought of her ex-girlfriend who was probably still searching the world for her. Life felt unbearably tough.
“Hyah!” Tulia snapped the reins, making up her mind to bolt. “Hold on tight, darling! Mama’s taking you to see the world!”
As for Aiden City? Whoever wants to go can go. She had no desire to play hide-and-seek with a certain obsessive maniac again!
To save enough sky-high tuition for her “gold-eating beast” of a daughter, Tulia had already set her sights on a certain “Charitable Organization.”
Earn enough for one year’s fifty gold coin tuition at the Royal Academy of Magic by working honestly? Unless she resorted to rob—wait, wasn’t that exactly what she was planning?
“Either way, there’s no way to earn that much. Better to go big, and settle some old scores while I’m at it!”
On a dark, windy night, Tulia led Lisbeth—mother and daughter, or rather, a scheming Vampire mother and her outwardly mature, inwardly naive “overgrown child”—to the Kingdom’s most bustling Northport.
Sure enough, as soon as they approached the city gate, they were stopped by the guards.
“Halt! Where’s your entry permit?”
Tulia blinked her blue eyes—still enchanting even in the night—and spoke with innocent fragility, “Oh, Officer, you see… we left in such a rush, we forgot to get one…”
As she spoke, she “accidentally” lifted her hood, revealing a head of moonlight-like silver hair, even leaning forward a bit to show what little “assets” she had in hopes of using this clumsy “beauty trap” to slip by.
The young guard clearly wasn’t used to such scenes; his gaze went blank, his face full of “conflict.”
Seeing him about to cave, a nearby sergeant barked, “What are you doing! Don’t you know the rules?!”
Tulia “tsk’d” inwardly, but immediately plastered on a fawning smile, theatrically slapping her forehead: “Oh! Silly me! I remember now, the permit’s right here in my pocket!”
She slowly took out a Badge and handed it over.
The sergeant grabbed it impatiently, muttering, “Next time, take it out earlier! Don’t wast—” He stopped mid-sentence, his brows knitting together. “Wait, this isn’t an entry permit, is it?”
Tulia’s smile grew even more “sincere.” She leaned in, lowering her voice, with a secretive hint: “Sergeant, why not look again—especially… the back?”
Skeptical, the sergeant flipped it over—a shiny silver coin lay obediently on the reverse.
Silence hung in the air for a heartbeat.
The next moment, the sergeant whisked the coin into his pocket with blinding speed—so practiced, it was heartbreaking to watch. He straightened up, cleared his throat, and declared with the seriousness of a royal decree:
“Ahem… This time, I’ll let it go! Be more careful next time! If you lose your Badge, go to the Security Department to get a replacement—it’s only a few copper coins! Go on in!”
Tulia thanked him profusely, hurrying Lisbeth—who was still peering about curiously—through the gate.
Once out of sight of the guards, her fawning smile instantly crumbled, replaced by utter disgust.
“Ugh! No matter how many years pass, Northport is always the same!” she ranted inwardly. “In this place, if you’ve got money, you’re a ‘sir,’ if not, you’re less than nothing! If your bribe’s not big enough, they’d charge you just to breathe!”
She glanced at Lisbeth, still oblivious to these unspoken rules and fascinated by the glowing Magic Signboards along the road, and sighed helplessly.
“Little Liz, watch carefully. This is reality. And now, Mama’s going to teach a few people what it means to get a ‘lesson from society’… and collect a little ‘tuition’ while I’m at it!”
Her gaze fell on the most luxurious, heavily guarded district by the harbor, lips curving into a sly, dangerous smile.
There’s always a culprit for every grievance, a debtor for every debt. Time to find that “old friend” and collect, with interest!