Silverbell tilted her head, one hand holding down the pink hat atop her head as she glanced sideways at Adam.
"Hello!"
She smiled and extended her hand toward him.
The night was cold.
But her smile felt warm—almost like sunlight.
"Cough—cough!"
Before Adam could react, the Baron of Smoke suddenly coughed sharply.
At once, Silverbell pulled her hand back.
She clearly understood.
This was someone her father treated with exceptional respect.
That cough was a warning.
She quickly lifted her skirt and performed a bow.
The Baron shot her a glare.
Silverbell merely puckered her lips and smiled innocently.
It was obvious.
The Baron had expected a proper local formal salute.
Not the Western-style courtesy she had just learned.
Adam smiled and nodded, saying nothing.
Seeing that Adam didn't mind, the Baron let it go and gestured politely.
"Your Highness, allow me to show you around the estate."
The moment he finished speaking, Silverbell's childish nature resurfaced.
She grabbed Adam's hand and dragged him straight toward the house.
"Come on! I'll show you!"
She was far too enthusiastic.
So much so that even Adam felt it was a bit excessive.
With no choice, the Baron followed behind.
The person he found hardest to deal with in his long life was his own daughter.
He owed her too much.
Enough that he couldn't bring himself to scold her.
Fortunately, he knew Adam wasn't petty.
At worst, it was just a missed opportunity to leave a perfect first impression.
"Where do you want to see first?" Silverbell asked excitedly.
When she smiled, Adam noticed her dimples—and a pair of small, sharp fangs.
"…Secret arts."
That was what Adam cared about most right now.
Just how much had the bloodkin learned over the past two thousand years?
"Secret arts?"
Silverbell hesitated, then turned and called out to the Baron, who had fallen several meters behind.
"Father! Can I take him to your study?"
The Baron nodded.
Permission granted.
Silverbell pulled Adam along again, sprinting down the dim corridor.
They reached the study on the second floor.
She opened the door, bowed deeply, and stretched out the word theatrically—
"Please—!"
Then she laughed at herself and stuck out her tongue.
Compared to her energy, Adam felt like a wooden puppet.
This was too sudden.
Was she really a bloodkin?
The moment he stepped inside, Adam realized the study was enormous.
Nearly fifty square meters.
Wooden floors.
Five-meter-high walls lined entirely with bookshelves, filled with volumes old and new.
At the center hung a massive chandelier.
No candles.
Bloodkin didn't need them.
Below stood a large desk.
Quills.Ink bottles.Manuscripts.
Several half-finished books lay stacked neatly.
"This is my father's study!" Silverbell said proudly.
"It was," the Baron corrected calmly as he entered."From now on, this will be Your Highness's study."
Silverbell froze.
Her clear eyes darted around.
Her posture straightened instantly.
Only now did she realize—
Her father's respect for this stranger ran far deeper than she'd imagined.
This was a study he had used for centuries.
Books gathered from across the world over hundreds of years.
And he gave it up without hesitation.
Adam nodded in satisfaction and paced slowly.
He picked up a book from the desk.
"Insight Technique?"
Another.
"Clone Art?"
Another.
"Cloud Body?"
He turned and frowned.
"Smoke. Don't tell me every book here is a skill."
The Baron bowed respectfully.
"Not all of them. Some techniques are simple—several can be recorded in one volume."
"Others are complex and require multiple books."
"There are also incomplete records."
"And many works on geography, history, hidden lore, and art."
Adam felt a headache coming on.
So many books.
Learning them was one thing.
Just reading them all would take an absurd amount of time.
Now this—
This was where immortality became a necessity.
"Have you read all of them?" Adam asked.
"I have," the Baron replied."But due to limited aptitude, many were impossible for me to master."
He didn't say the rest.
That won't be a problem anymore.
After all—
He was now a second-generation bloodkin.
But he didn't say it out loud.
Even in front of his own daughter, the Baron remained guarded.
The true difference between progenitor bloodkin and later generations wasn't just strength, speed, regeneration, or resistance.
It was aptitude.
Many bloodkin could understand every secret art—
And still be incapable of using them.
This gap was absolute.
A law written in blood.
Adam nodded lightly.
Approval.
Of both the answer—
And the man.
A thin beam of light slipped through a specially left gap in the ceiling.
Dawn had arrived.
"Your Highness," the Baron said, "I'll arrange your quarters first."
"Tonight, I need to return to Lizard Castle to retrieve Vine and settle a few loose ends."
"Would you allow my daughter to continue showing you around?"
…
Night fell.
Before Adam could wake naturally, a pair of slender hands forced open the lid of his coffin.
"Are you up yet?"
Silverbell leaned in, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Adam was speechless.
Was he really that approachable?
He rose from the coffin and adjusted his clothes.
Silverbell stood beside him, fully equipped.
Several sets of Western-style men's formalwear were laid out on a chair behind her.
"Could you do me a favor?" she asked, suddenly pitiful.
"What kind of favor?"
"Come with me to Sister Christine's place for a ball!"
She looked thrilled.
"Your father's idea?" Adam asked.
"My decision!" she replied firmly.
As Adam stepped out of the coffin, he felt hunger creeping in.
"Please—!"
She instantly reverted to pleading.
"I wanted Classical to go with me, but he never came back after the night before last."
"I thought Vine could be a backup, but he didn't return either!"
"Oh no… you're my only option!"
"So I'm the backup's backup?" Adam teased as he opened the door.
Outside stood an elderly man and three young women.
A butler.
And three maids.
They bowed the moment they saw him.
The butler spoke.
"Your Highness, your dinner is prepared."
Dinner?
For bloodkin?
The Baron really was considerate.
He must've questioned Pig thoroughly about Adam's feeding cycle before leaving.
"Take me there," Adam said.
He followed the butler.
Behind him, Silverbell continued pleading nonstop.
"Don't say it like that! We only met last night!"
"If I'd known earlier, I wouldn't have even considered them!"
"You can go alone," Adam replied calmly."You'll be very popular at a ball."
"No!" she protested."Sister Christine says you must bring a partner. How else do you dance?"
Bloodkin had rules like that?
Adam stopped.
Turned.
And asked seriously—
"Does your father know about this?"
He had little confidence in a five-hundred-year-old bloodkin who still acted like a child.
This was not the time for trouble.
But her next move shattered his resolve completely.
She lowered her head.
Gripped his sleeve.
Shook it gently.
Her voice rang like silver bells.
"Please… there's no time… we'll be late…"
She looked up.
Two tears shimmered in her eyes.
Adam froze.
…Was she acting cute?
A five-hundred-year-old bloodkin—
Acting cute at him?
What kind of situation was this?!