Patunasankus suddenly realized all eyes in the room had fallen upon her.
The evil dragon stopped eating, ceasing her noisy chewing to wipe the corners of her mouth.
What are you all staring at?
Never seen a dragon eat before? How uncultured.
Patunasankus paid no mind to the reactions of nobles and merchants. She neither feared they'd notice her minor flaws nor cared about their judgments.
Their opinions meant nothing to her. Any whispered comments would only meet the dragon's utter indifference—Patunasankus never took others' existence to heart.
Moreover, the evil dragon didn't believe anyone could ever enter her heart. Not in the slightest.
Rather than worrying about others' thoughts, eating took priority for Patunasankus.
Yes, eating was important.
Life was finite—each meal counted, and none should be wasted.
Though it was just a plate of cream cake, Patunasankus treasured it like rare treasure, her entire face lighting up with joy.
A smear of brown chocolate stained her lips, which she ignored entirely, licking her mouth before diving back into her feast.
Like a little girl.
"That girl with chocolate on her lips... was she invited by someone?" A female merchant at the distant long table asked in surprise.
"She came in with the kingdom's envoy, seems to have some background," her companion replied. "Her every movement exudes nobility, and she's quite charming too. Almost like I've seen her somewhere before."
"Probably some noble's illegitimate daughter, first time at such an event," another added. "Though she does eat rather enthusiastically."
Patunasankus overheard the wild speculations about her identity—from being a freeloader to eventually being labeled as some noble's bastard child. Not one recognized her as Princess Latifa.
Patunasankus couldn't care less.
To the evil dragon, humans fell into only two categories:
Acquaintances, and those not yet acquainted.
The elderly white-gloved magistrate rang a brass bell, signaling attendants to escort the girl aside.
Elaphia couldn't let these city folk handle the Princess roughly.
Some inexplicable premonition told her that if anyone laid hands on the Princess, something terrifying would occur.
Elaphia's first thought was to attribute this to the Hero's wrath.
"Your Highness, we must move aside now. The succession ceremony is about to begin."
She had no choice but to lead the still-hungry Patunasankus away from public view.
This displeased Patunasankus somewhat. She jerked her arm and spitefully elbowed Elaphia.
She held back most of her strength, otherwise the vampire would've been impaled on the spot.
Elaphia winced in pain—the Princess was stronger than expected—but successfully pulled Patunasankus to stand beside the Hero.
Wiping her sweat, Elaphia felt the princess' gaze sentencing her to judgment. Unless she could produce satisfactory compensation, those absolute-zero eyes would freeze her solid.
She vowed never to interrupt the princess' mealtime again.Beside them, Loranhir slightly raised her head, already aware of the situation.
She reached out to pat the puffed cheeks of the fuming evil dragon, lost in thought for a moment before handing over a prepared plate of pastries.
The evil dragon sat down, behaving for a while.
Elaphia stared blankly at Loranhir's seamless actions.
Wait, how is she this skilled?
The black-haired man on the stairs watched the scene with interest, his gaze lingering more precisely on Loranhir.
Over a dozen high-tier magic puppets lining the red carpet immediately raised their right arms across their chests upon the man's arrival. An elderly magistrate emerged from the crowd, approaching the black-haired man with reverence as he uttered his name.
"Grand Mage Oz, it's been far too long." The magistrate of Bluefin Bay weighed his scepter, eyes brimming with reluctance.
Clearly, the magistrate was unwilling to relinquish the Guardian's authority.
The intoxication of commanding a magic legion capable of annihilating entire cities was undeniable. Yet, had it not been for the escalating goblin activity—against which the magic legion struggled—the magistrate would never have considered surrendering his power.
"Let us begin the ceremony now."
In an instant, Patunasankus detected a faint, elusive stench of decay in the air.
Most present were ordinary folk, with only a handful of low-ranking guards among them—none strong enough to notice this deliberately concealed rot.
It was a corruption that seeped into the soul.
Patunasankus furrowed his brow as if encountering something inconceivable.
Unbelievable! The attendants hadn't provided her with cutlery!?
The evil dragon pouted unhappily.
"No, wait a moment," Oz casually wagged his index finger. "We have a distinguished guest."
He was unmistakably referring to Loranhir.
The legendary Hero's arrival in Bluefin Bay had startled Oz, forcing him to reconsider his plans and temporarily retreat from confrontation.
"What brings the Hero to my city?" Oz descended as he spoke.
Loranhir stepped forward under the crowd's gaze, clutching a letter with sweat-dampened palms while an intense longing permeated her heart.
"There's a matter I wish to seek your help with." She handed Oz the letter, its wording meticulously revised.
Oz accepted it curiously.
None knew what the letter contained.
Yet his expression shifted from mere curiosity to sudden surprise, then stunned realization, and finally to outright disdain—all within seconds.
"You'll have my answer," Oz replied, his tone unchanged.
His gaze flickered briefly toward Elaphia, who suddenly felt an eerie sensation of being laid bare.
Elaphia frowned and instantly hid behind Loranhir, fearing the Grand Mage might—as he had a century ago—strike her down upon recognizing her vampire heritage.
But Oz showed no reaction. Without a word, he returned to the coronation platform for the succession ceremony, as if it mattered not at all.
Elaphia grew puzzled. Given the Grand Mage's extreme methods from over a century prior, even with the Hero present, he would have acted to eradicate dark creatures without hesitation.Loranhir felt both nervous and somewhat excited—this was the closest she had ever come to obtaining the power to change herself.
Only Patunasankus on the other side remained unmoved.
She stuffed herself with food, her cheeks bulging high.
One could only see the lumps of food chasing each other down her throat, with no sign of teeth chewing.
The princess didn’t care.
After the tedious oaths and inquiries, the so-called Guardian succession ceremony finally came to an end.
"Now then, Guardian," the aged magistrate said, "you have regained command of your legion. May you bring this city eternal prosperity and safety."
"I will. I certainly will." Oz took the Guardian's scepter from the elderly magistrate.
The next moment, several eerie sounds of swords being drawn sliced through the solemn atmosphere like blades.
Everyone at the ceremony frowned, turning toward the source of the noise.
The magic puppets unsheathed their greatswords and swung them down upon the bewildered nobles around them.
Around the fallen bodies, blood slowly soaked into the luxurious carpets, its hue mirroring the banners fluttering above—a sight that sent chills down the spine.