"So now you know you're hungry?" Glen couldn't help teasing.
Bonnie didn't answer, just lowered her head, embarrassed.
Glen suddenly stood up, opened the cloth bag he'd set on the table, and started pulling out a large chunk of pork, a basket of vegetables, seasonings, cooking oil, and even a flat-bottomed pot. Bonnie's jaw dropped as she watched.
"Where's your kitchen?" Glen asked the stunned girl.
Bonnie pointed to a room without thinking, and Glen immediately headed there with the supplies.
Only then did it seem to dawn on Bonnie—she rushed forward and blocked Glen. "Mr. Glen, we can't eat these! They're too valuable!"
"But you ate plenty at my place," Glen said with a sly smile.
"I…" Bonnie felt both ashamed and flustered.
"Come on, I've got more than enough food. Consider this a bit of compensation for the trouble we brought your family."
With that, he ignored her protests and walked into the kitchen.
Watching Glen roll up his sleeves and confidently start a fire and cook, Bonnie pressed her lips together in silence…
"Mr. Glen, let me help," she said, mimicking him and rolling up her sleeves as she entered the kitchen.
"Then wash these vegetables. It's a good chance to learn—you can cook for your mom or your friends sometime. A girl should know her way around the kitchen." Glen pointed to the veggies.
Bonnie nodded eagerly. She'd loved Glen's cooking and would be thrilled to learn even a little.
Time passed, and when Bonnie's mother came back into the room, the irresistible aroma of home-cooked food hit her. A few simple but delicious dishes were already on the table.
Bonnie emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of stir-fried meat and, seeing her mother, grinned. "Mom! Come sit down! Mr. Glen made some special dishes from his hometown—you have to try them!"
"This…" Mrs. Bonnie's brain seemed to freeze; she couldn't process what was happening.
Glen stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a cloth, also smiling. "Ma'am, I borrowed your kitchen. Hope it didn't cause any trouble."
"Oh… o-of course not…" Mrs. Bonnie waved her hands frantically.
"Good." Glen gestured. "Try my cooking."
Mrs. Bonnie sat down numbly beside her daughter. Facing the fragrant, beautifully arranged dishes, she swallowed reflexively.
Taking the spoon from Bonnie, she scooped up some stir-fried meat and put it in her mouth.
One chew, and a flavor she'd never tasted flooded her mouth; her eyes widened involuntarily.
Bonnie, meanwhile, was already digging in without any regard for manners—she'd been starving for a while and had barely restrained herself while the food was being cooked.
Love seeing that "never-seen-anything-like-this" look on your faces… Glen watched their reactions and smirked to himself.
The three of them sat together enjoying the meal. Glen chatted with Bonnie's mother about everyday things and quickly learned the family's basics.
Bonnie's mother was a cotton mill worker with a fairly stable income; the neighbors called her Mrs. Sally.
As Glen had guessed, she was a widow. Her husband had been killed by a passing noble he'd offended, leaving Sally to raise their daughter and pay for her schooling on her own.
Despite losing her father, Bonnie hadn't suffered too much hardship, thanks to her mother's decent job.
After the meal, Glen made to leave. Mrs. Sally immediately urged him, "Stay the night, child. It's far too late, and things have been unsettled in town lately—it's dangerous to go out now."
"Yeah, if you head to Bayek now, it'll be almost dawn," Bonnie added helpfully.
Sleeping here? I'd be uncomfortable… Glen smiled wryly. "Don't worry, ma'am, I know what I'm doing. You don't need to fret."
With that, he turned and melted into the dark night.
…
Inside Lord Chanis's Manor
The lord set down the letter he'd been reading and let out a nearly imperceptible sigh. To the steward beside him, he said, "Call Barbul in."
"Yes, my lord." The upright old steward nodded and left.
Soon, Barbul, clad in armor, entered the room with the steward.
He gave a crisp knight's salute and waited for orders.
"Find a way to bring that commoner Glen back. I want him to understand the price of offending a noble!" Chanis's tone was ice-cold.
"Understood!" Barbul saluted again, turned to leave.
Chanis added, "Whatever you do, do not enter Bayek Town. If you stir up trouble there, I can't bail you out!"
"I'll keep that in mind!" Barbul said gravely, then strode from the room.
At that moment, Lady Sophia entered. She watched Barbul's departing back with an unreadable look.
"What are you doing here?" Chanis noticed his wife.
"I saw you summon Barbul, so I came. Did your friend reply? What did he say?" Sophia asked.
"That commoner Glen is probably just an ordinary person. My friend said he's never heard the name, and he even double-checked through his own channels to be sure."
"That's wonderful! Someone who dares hit our son must pay dearly!" Sophia's lips curled in a cruel smile.
…
Doud Town – An Unremarkable Tavern
The small door creaked open, and a travel-worn middle-aged man stepped in. He wore plain civilian clothes, had a gloomy look, and was the kind of person easily overlooked at a glance.
He scanned the tavern, his gaze settling on a striking figure by the window.
He walked straight over and sat opposite her.
"A full-fledged mage dressing like—this? A… commoner?" Murphy gave the man an obviously disgusted glance.
"Quit yappin'! Give me what I want, you damn vampire!" the man snapped, clearly hating vampires.
"Is that how you ask for a favor?" Murphy's eyes narrowed, annoyed. "Let's get this straight, great Mage-sama—you came begging me. If you want a proper deal, learn some respect!"
"Vampires aren't worthy of respect." The man's tone was scornful. "Enough wasting time—hand it over!"
Murphy's fingers tightened under the table, her pupils edging toward red. Coldly, she said, "I don't think this trade is happening. Get what you need elsewhere."
She stood up, but the man's next words stopped her cold.
"I don't think you'd want your castle visited by those great knights and archmages, would you?"
"You're threatening me?!" Murphy's eyes turned fully red, and the air around her subtly warped.
The distortion was invisible to the naked eye—other patrons just felt a vague tightness in the chest and had no idea what was causing it.
"That's right, a threat. Don't look at me like that. If we fight here, you'll be the one who dies, foolish vampire." The man leaned against the wall, fingers tracing the wooden cup as his gaze, utterly emotionless, locked onto Murphy.