On the black carriage, Anna gazed at the elderly man before her—so terribly familiar—her expression complicated.

“So it really was you.”

“What? Did I scare you?”

“No. It’s just... my foster father—the one who ran that little shop with never any customers, the harmless old man who spent every day dozing off—suddenly turns into one of the most powerful figures in the nation. The famed Swordbearer, whispered in rumors as someone whose very name can stop children from crying at night... I’m simply not used to it.”

“...”

The old man fell silent for a moment, half-opening his clouded eyes before speaking.

“You still recognize me as your foster father?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Anna lowered her head, her voice quiet.

“After all, you’re the one who raised me, aren’t you?”

“Even though my motive for adopting you was never pure to begin with?”

“I guessed as much... but that doesn’t change the fact you gave me the grace of being raised. Doesn’t it?”

Anna lifted her head and smiled.

“I’m not the kind of person who forgets gratitude. And if I think about it carefully, even if you had other motives, you never once harmed me. Even back then... when the Silent Bureau suddenly arrested me, I can see now it was for my protection. You probably never expected those cultists to be so insane that they’d launch a direct assault on one of your Bureau’s branches.

And most importantly, without your teaching, there would be no Anna Kaplin today. So no matter what intention you had when you adopted me, I’m deeply grateful.”

“...”

The old man again sank into silence.

Looking at the girl before him, whose eyes brimmed with endless tenderness, his memory slipped back ten years.

Back then, he had approached her with the intent to kill.

The intel he’d received said that this poor girl, abandoned by her parents, had shown signs of Snakeification since birth.

And in history, the longest incubation for Snakeification had been ten years.

That Snake-Man, after hatching in ten years, had nearly destroyed an entire city in one great disaster.

So, when the girl had just crossed the threshold into eleven, forced to leave the orphanage, he appeared before her.

His purpose: kill her, and erase the unknown danger entirely.

For him—the Swordbearer who for over a century had executed countless cultists—such a task should have been easy.

But.

On that windless night, beneath the cold moonlight, when he noticed the girl’s eyes—eyes brimming with the same endless warmth and strength she carried now—he hesitated.

Maybe it was because the weather that night had been so fine, the moonlight so bright, making her eyes shine so luminously.

Or maybe, at the twilight of his life, on the eve of going to hell, it had been his subconscious attempt at atonement.

And so, this old man whose hands were drenched in blood, whose feet had trodden on countless corpses, softened for the first time that night.

That one moment of softness, like fresh sprouts after spring rain, grew in the frozen wasteland of his heart that he had long thought dead—until a small meadow of gentleness bloomed there.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“Hm?”

Anna tilted her head, bewildered at the meaning behind his words.

“It was you. After a lifetime of fighting Evil Gods and cultists, after a lifetime of being nothing but a killing blade—because of you, I finally understood what it means to be human.”

“Really?”

Anna’s brows arched, her eyes curving in a smile.

“And how does it feel?”

The old man looked at his withered hands, then smiled as well.

“Not bad at all.”

Sunlight filtered through the carriage curtains, filling the cramped space. The old man and the girl sat opposite each other, both wearing gentle smiles—like a true father and daughter with a large age gap, warm and intimate.

“By the way, you didn’t call me here just to reminisce, did you?” Anna leaned against the window, resting her chin in her hand, her voice soft.

“If there’s something else, please tell me.”

“You’re still as sharp as ever.”

The old man let out a helpless smile. The draft he’d been building up in his chest was discarded, and he spoke plainly.

“It’s nothing complicated. I want you to join the Silent Bureau. That’s the place most suited for you.”

“The Silent Bureau...”

Anna’s eyes showed no surprise.

“But I don’t like that kind of place.”

“I know.”

The old man had clearly expected this, his voice calm.

“But I’m not asking you to start from the bottom. With your current ability, you’re fit for a higher seat.”

“So...” Anna raised her brows.

“...I’m very old now.”

The old man paused, then said,

“So old that I don’t know when I’ll suddenly end up in a coffin. That’s why... I need an heir.”

“Wha—”

A trace of surprise finally crossed Anna’s beautiful face, her lips parting slightly, looking almost girlishly flustered.

“Me? An heir? But I’m not even a Silent One yet.”

“That doesn’t matter. The Bureau isn’t a bureaucratic institution. It doesn’t measure by seniority, but by strength. As long as your strength can suppress everyone, then everyone will follow your orders wholeheartedly.”

“But I’m not strong enough.”

“Not now. But in time...”

The old man gave her a deep, meaningful look, as if he could see something hidden within her body.

“I believe in your potential.”

“...”

“And besides, I’m not dead yet. Until I’ve passed on every last skill I have to you, I won’t be content to breathe my last.”

“...”

Anna fell silent, lowering her eyes, lost in thought.

After a moment, her fingers gripped the hem of her clothes tightly, hiding her inner struggle, as she murmured:

“But I still...”

“Can’t bear to leave that boy?”

The old man finished her sentence for her, a cold smile tugging at his lips.

“You think you {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} can go on playing at lovers in Saint Maria Academy. But once you leave, once you join the Bureau, there won’t be any such chance.”

“...”

Anna said nothing, but her meaning was all too clear.

When her love for her junior was overflowing, how could she possibly bear to leave him?

“Ah... you silly girl.”

Watching the cabbage he had raised for ten years get stolen away by that golden-haired pig, the old man’s eyes flickered with helpless frustration. Then he said:

“Actually, it’s because of your relationship with that boy that I made this decision.”

“Hm?”

Anna looked at him in confusion, not understanding what connection he meant.

“Heh.”

The old man suddenly glanced out the window, sneering.

“You haven’t forgotten that boy’s identity, have you?”

“His... identity...”

Anna froze for a second, then immediately realized.

The one she held so dearly in her heart was named Muen Campbell.

The only son of Duke Campbell, and the near-certain future Duke.

And most importantly—because the Campbell line had only one heir each generation, unable to branch out—the Campbell house was naturally the one and only unwavering royalist among the great nobles.

Thus, as a binding tie, he had a betrothal, personally decreed by the Emperor, to that famed Imperial Princess.

“A betrothal, huh...”

Anna whispered. Following the old man’s gaze, she turned her head toward the window.

On a distant rooftop, bathed in the pale morning light, a silver-white figure stood tall.

As though born beneath a spotlight, the princess needed only to stand there silently to captivate all who looked upon her.

“She really is beautiful,” Anna breathed in admiration.

And as if sensing something, the silver-haired girl suddenly turned, her gaze crossing several streets—meeting the girl inside the carriage.

It seemed to be their first eye contact.

No killing intent. No hidden meaning.

So calm.

Like a sea without a single ripple of wind.

Yet the old man’s smile suddenly grew sly as he said:

“Girl, like I just told you, it’s normal for a future Duke like Muen Campbell to have a few lovers.

But—”

“That one and only Duchess’s seat... don’t you want to fight for it?”