The three of them — two adults and a child — strolled along the lively street, laughing softly, until they stopped before a lavishly decorated restaurant.

  At the sight of such opulence, Danni hesitated instinctively. “Isn’t this place a little too extravagant?” she murmured.

  In the days when their parents were still alive, dining somewhere like this would not have caused the slightest concern. But now, after years of hardship, she could no longer bear to waste money so freely.

  “It’s the mercenaries’ money anyway,” Glenn said indifferently. “Consider it their treat.”

  Little Ricky’s eyes shone with unhidden longing.

  Danni’s resolve softened. Without another word, she followed Glenn inside.

  The restaurant’s interior exuded a distinct medieval charm. Being located in one of the busiest parts of town, every table was filled with patrons.

  Glenn searched for quite a while before finding a vacant seat. He lifted Ricky into a chair, had Danni sit, and told them to wait while he went to place their order.

  Here, waiters didn’t bring menus — they simply served. Customers were expected to order their meals at a designated counter.

  Thanks to the original Dylan’s memories, Glenn was more than familiar with the process.

  Before long, one dish after another arrived, their aroma rich and mouthwatering. The three began their meal in cheerful spirits, warmth and laughter filling the table.

  Glenn’s easy manner and gift for conversation turned what might have been an awkward reunion into something lighthearted and pleasant. Even Ricky, charmed by his uncle’s humor and kindness, quickly grew attached to him.

  Just as they were enjoying themselves, a waiter appeared carrying two bottles of wine. “These were sent to you by a lady, sir.”

  Glenn and Danni exchanged puzzled glances.

  Glenn looked at the bottles. “And where might this lady be?” he asked.

  The waiter instinctively glanced to one side, and Glenn followed his gaze.

  It didn’t take long for him to recognize her.

  Sitting not far away was a fashionable young woman, elegant and poised — someone he had met once before in the town of Dudd.

  “Murphy?” Glenn murmured the name softly.

  Indeed, it was the vampire he’d encountered back then. He hadn’t expected to see her here of all places.

  From her seat, Murphy raised her glass with a faint smile, a silent gesture of greeting.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Across from her sat a strikingly handsome man who turned his head toward Glenn, regarding him with a detached, assessing look. Two other women, both equally beautiful and refined, leaned slightly forward to see what had caught their companion’s attention.

  Danni followed Glenn’s gaze and asked, “Who are they?”

  “Some friends I met not long ago,” Glenn replied with a smile, rising from his seat. “I should at least say hello.”

  Danni nodded, thinking that only proper.

  When Glenn approached, Murphy greeted him with a faintly amused smile. “You must have fled here, haven’t you? Have you seen the demons along the way?”

  Glenn ignored the question. Resting a hand casually on the back of an empty chair, he said, “You four are quite bold — appearing together in a place like this. Aren’t you afraid someone might decide to turn you into magical ingredients?”

  Murphy tilted her head slightly. “We have our ways. I’m more curious about you, wol— hm?”

  Her voice faltered mid-sentence, eyes widening in sudden disbelief. “You removed the curse?”

  “The curse?” the handsome man opposite her repeated, his tone edged with suspicion. He clearly disliked Glenn’s nearness — a mere human daring to stand so close.

  “I haven’t removed it,” Glenn said simply. “Just found a way to conceal it.”

  The man bristled at being ignored, but before he could speak, Murphy explained, “The werewolf’s curse. When I first met him, he was one.”

  “What?!” The man’s and both women’s pupils flared crimson, fangs flashing for an instant.

  “Careful!” Murphy hissed, and at once they retracted their features, returning to their flawless human fa?ades.

  “A werewolf daring to approach us? Do you take us for cowards?” the man sneered coldly, lifting his chin to glare down at Glenn.

  Glenn, however, had no interest in trading words.

  Murphy, regaining composure, asked, “Since when do werewolves possess such tricks?”

  “That only means your knowledge is limited,” Glenn replied with a shrug.

  “You—!” Murphy’s voice tightened with irritation; this wolf was every bit as infuriating as before.

  “We’ve never heard of such an ability either,” said one of the female vampires beside her, siding with her friend.

  “Then you’re all equally ignorant,” Glenn replied without hesitation.

  “Murphy, may I kill him?” the other woman demanded, her anger flaring.

  Murphy ignored her companions’ outrage and drew a deep breath. “Do you even know who you’re talking to, werewolf?”

  “Four fourth-tier vampires, if I’m not mistaken,” Glenn said mildly.

  “You know?!” The four of them looked genuinely startled. “How could you tell?”

  “Heh, just a guess. Seems I was right.” Glenn’s grin turned sly.

  In truth, it had been a guess — but a well-founded one. Given what he knew of this world and their particular arrogance, the odds were high.

  The vampires stared at him, first astonished, then offended — a flush of humiliation creeping into their elegant composure.

  They, noble highborn vampires, outwitted by a single werewolf? The thought alone was unbearable.

  “Murphy, I don’t care! I’m killing him right now!” one snarled.

  “Seal his lips — no one can know what happened here!”

  “I’ve held back long enough!”

  Murphy inhaled again, steadying herself. Dignity first, she told herself, then said sharply, “Enough! Don’t behave like beasts — remember your grace.”

  Glenn watched the entire scene with barely disguised amusement. Something about their feigned superiority made him want to toy with them all the more.

  “Werewolf,” Murphy said finally, her tone calm once again, “did you come here just to mock us?”

  “Of course not,” Glenn replied with a faint smile. “Just thought I’d lighten the mood. You sent me wine — that makes us friends, doesn’t it? It would’ve been rude not to say hello.”

  “Friends? With you?” Murphy rolled her eyes. “I merely wanted you to know I was here.”

  The handsome man’s voice turned glacial. “Knowing what we are, and still you approach? Are you truly unafraid of death?”

  Ever since learning Glenn’s nature, he had felt a distinct unease — especially with the man standing so near his back.

  “Can you tell what level I am?” Glenn asked instead.

  Murphy was silent for a moment, then answered slowly, “When I first met you, your aura suggested a third-tier werewolf. Don’t tell me you’ve already advanced to fourth?”

  “So, you can’t tell.” Glenn nodded slightly. “That’s good. I can be a third-tier… or a fifth. That uncertainty,” he said with a faint, confident smile, “is exactly why I dare to stand here speaking with you.”