This lycanthropic constitution of mine is far too easy to detect… it’ll be troublesome in the future. Glenn frowned inwardly at the thought.

  Then suddenly, his eyes brightened. He silently gathered the scattered werewolf toxin within his body, guiding it together and compressing it further and further—until it shrank to the size of a cell, hidden away within a single red blood cell.

  When he looked back at Bayi, the vampire’s eyes had widened in disbelief, as though he’d seen a ghost. “What… what did you just do?!” he demanded, his voice trembling.

  “What’s the matter?” Glenn asked with feigned innocence.

  “Don’t play dumb! Your werewolf aura—it’s completely gone! You feel just like an ordinary human now!”

  Bayi’s voice rose, and if not for the noise of the surrounding crowd, his words would surely have drawn unwanted attention.

  “Just a little trick,” Glenn replied calmly. “No need to panic.”

  “A little trick?” Bayi repeated skeptically. In all his long years, he had never witnessed such a thing. Whether it was truly “little” or not, he couldn’t tell—he wasn’t a werewolf himself. He would definitely study this later.

  Trying to recover, he continued their earlier conversation. “You still haven’t answered me. Why are you different from other werewolves?”

  Glenn countered smoothly, “And why do you think most werewolves behave the way they do?”

  “Because the curse corrodes the mind,” Bayi answered without hesitation. “It drives its victims to madness—bloodthirsty, selfish creatures who eventually lose themselves.”

  “Exactly,” Glenn said lightly. “The curse feeds desire, eroding one’s sanity through each transformation. But if one holds fast to reason, isn’t it possible to resist that change?”

  His tone was half-truth, half-deception. In his previous life, he had been a man of strict self-discipline, a perfectionist with an iron will, never allowing external forces to cloud his thoughts. That same unyielding resolve had carried him through training so punishing that few in history had survived it.

  “Just… by keeping reason?” Bayi frowned. “It can’t be that simple. Werewolves have existed for ages—why has no one like you ever appeared before?”

  Glenn merely shrugged. “And yet, here I am. Perhaps such people are simply… rare.”

  There was nothing Bayi could say to refute that.

  At that moment, two figures approached—a witch and a young girl of about thirteen or fourteen. “Sir Glenn, Lord Bayi, good evening,” the witch greeted courteously, guiding the timid girl beside her into a bow.

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  Glenn recognized them—the witch was Sasha, and the girl her apprentice, Ambella.

  “Lady Sasha, Ambella, a pleasure to see you,” Bayi said warmly. Glenn echoed the greeting with equal politeness.

  “You’re here to meet our new friend as well, Lady Sasha?” Bayi asked with a teasing smile.

  “Of course,” she replied with gentle humor. “Laigila and I have known each other for many years. If she deems someone worth introducing, I take it seriously.”

  Turning to Glenn, she continued, “Mr. Glenn, Laigila clearly holds you in high regard. You must possess qualities she admires. As a token of our first meeting, please accept this.”

  With a graceful gesture, a small ornate box appeared in her hand, which she offered to him.

  Seeing the sincerity in her gesture, Glenn could not refuse. He raised a hand and accepted the gift politely.

  “Once opened,” Sasha explained, “this box can be used to contact me. Should you ever require my assistance, do not hesitate to call upon me.”

  Glenn nodded with a courteous smile. “I wasn’t prepared with a gift today, but next time, I’ll be sure to bring one in return.”

  “You’re far too polite,” Sasha chuckled softly. Then, resting a hand on her apprentice’s head, she added, “Ambella is my student. Sadly, fate chose her to become a witch. If she should ever find herself in danger, I hope you’ll help her—if it lies within your power.”

  Ambella was adorably youthful—her nose delicate, her round eyes bright with innocence, her face still soft with the roundness of childhood. She bit her lip shyly under her teacher’s introduction, summoning the courage to meet Glenn’s gaze.

  Glenn crouched down, his voice gentle. “Ambella—what a lovely name. It suits you perfectly. If you ever face danger, don’t be afraid. Besides your teacher, you have me as well.”

  Perhaps it was his tone, calm and kind, that eased her nerves. The girl’s wide, clear eyes met his, and she nodded quietly.

  Sasha watched the scene with a trace of warmth softening her features. Her gaze toward Glenn grew even gentler.

  After a few more words, she took Ambella’s hand and led her away.

  Bayi watched them go, sighing softly. “What a pity… to bear such a curse at so young an age.”

  Glenn glanced at him, puzzled and about to inquire further—but Bayi spoke first. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Glenn. I truly enjoyed our conversation, but I must catch up with some old friends. Until next time.”

  “Until next time, Mr. Bayi,” Glenn replied with a polite smile.

  One by one, other guests came to speak with him, each conversation laced with goodwill and curiosity. Glenn responded graciously, and in doing so, gleaned much useful information.

  Most of them, it turned out, were younger acquaintances of the Black Crow couple—beneficiaries of their kindness or allies from past ventures. Their respect for the pair ran deep; no wonder they had all traveled so far for this celebration.

  As Glenn conversed animatedly, Gabai, from across the hall, grew increasingly agitated. His teeth clenched. “I’ve had enough! Why is everyone so eager to chat with that filthy werewolf?!”

  Raimons, still devouring his food beside him, gave the dragon a sideways glance and smirked. “Jealous, are you? Seems the wolf’s more popular than you are.”

  Gabai’s chest puffed out, his long neck arching in outrage. “Jealous? Of him? Hah! Don’t make me laugh! I possess the noble blood of dragons—why would I envy some gutter-born beast? Should I take that as a challenge, Raimons?!”

  But Raimons only continued chewing, unfazed. “Say what you will, but you can’t deny it—he’s far better liked than you.”

  It was a casual remark, but it struck a nerve. Gabai’s eyes flicked toward the distant Glenn, surrounded by laughter and conversation, then back to Raimons. Without a word, he began striding toward the werewolf.

  Seeing this, Raimons quickly called out, “Hey! Don’t start trouble! It’s Laigila’s birthday, remember?”

  “Mind your own business,” Gabai snapped coldly.

  Raimons frowned, abandoning his meal. He rose to his feet, ready to intervene should the arrogant fool decide to make a scene.