When Aino returned to the building, Chloe and the green-haired fairy, Veronica, were already waiting outside the room, engaged in conversation.

“How did it go?” Aino asked with a smile, even though she already knew the answer.

Chloe spun around excitedly and flew toward her.
“I got a job! Just like Sister Veronica! I’ll be handling city entry registrations and helping resolve communication issues. It seems pretty easy!”

Initially, Chloe had felt a deep sense of dread about the job. After all, working among so many guards and interacting with strangers from various races seemed daunting for a fairy.

Fortunately, Veronica, having set the precedent, reassured Chloe that her colleagues would ensure she wouldn’t have to handle anything alone. All Chloe needed to do was translate, ask the required questions, and record the answers.

For a fairy born with the ability to understand all languages, the job was practically effortless.

“No problems, right?” Aino opened her hand, and Chloe, smiling brightly, flew into her palm, looking up at her.

“...” Veronica, observing this interaction, was momentarily stunned.

As a fairy herself, Veronica was well aware of the nature of her kin.

Such open affection and trust toward someone were rare for fairies. It was likely Chloe’s years of fear and exile, coupled with Aino saving her from danger and going to great lengths to secure her a stable life, that had fostered this bond.

Watching Chloe nestle affectionately into Aino’s hand like a pet, Veronica shifted her gaze, feeling slightly awkward.

Meanwhile, after a moment of playful interaction, Aino’s expression turned serious as she silently regarded the fairy.

Noticing the shift, Chloe flew up into the air and tilted her head in confusion.
“What’s wrong, Miss Aino?”

It was nothing, really—just time for another farewell. But Aino knew this time wouldn’t be as smooth as before.

As expected, Chloe’s cheerful expression froze when she heard Aino’s announcement.

“Miss Aino, are you going to the Peruvian Great Forest for your meeting? Then you can come back after that, right?”

“No, I won’t be coming back. After that, I’ll continue traveling elsewhere.”

“Why? My pay is good, and I don’t eat much…” Chloe’s voice was filled with urgency, trying to persuade her.

But Aino cut her off gently.
“It’s okay, Chloe. You need to live your life well. We’re both long-lived beings; I’ll visit you again after many years.”

Her tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for further argument.

At that moment, Veronica flew closer, her icy demeanor as stoic as ever. She didn’t speak, but her presence beside Chloe clearly expressed her support.

Faced with Aino, who had quickly become an important figure in her otherwise lonely life, and Veronica, her kind yet aloof kin, Chloe realized this was already the best outcome she could hope for.

Demanding more—begging Aino to stay in the city with her—would be selfish and immature.

“Miss Aino, I’ll wait for you in Grantham. You must come back…” Chloe finally said, her eyes red with unshed tears.

“Of course. We’re long-lived, remember? The next time we meet, you might have grown up.”

Fairies lived extraordinarily long lives, never aging in the conventional sense. Only the first two or three hundred years were considered “youth.” Chloe, barely a century old, was still just a child.

After their final exchange, Aino waved goodbye and left the building that would now serve as Chloe’s workplace.

Walking alone through the city streets, Aino pulled her cloak tighter around her and wandered aimlessly, her face expressionless.

Even she felt a twinge of melancholy after these encounters.

But leaving at the right time was for the best. Staying too long often led to conflict or unpleasantness, as reality seldom resembled the harmony of a novel.

Perhaps Aino was a deeply pessimistic person in this regard. To avoid disappointment, she chose not to begin things in the first place. If you don’t try, no one can criticize your failures.

...A hypocritical and convoluted perspective, she mused, shaking her head.

In any case, with her thoughts tangled, Aino resolutely continued her journey. She couldn’t help but wonder if other adventurers who relished solitude, such as bards, felt the same way.

Time passed quickly when you found distractions. Visiting new places, exploring, or even taking a long nap—by the time she awoke, perhaps Chloe would already have changed.

By then… she likely wouldn’t see Alea or Parker anymore.

But wasn’t she heading to see them now? They must be in their sixties by this point. This would be the first time she’d directly see familiar faces grow old. The thought was both intriguing and strangely stifling.

Lost in her musings, Aino suddenly caught a peculiar scent in the air ahead, pulling her from her thoughts like a sharp jolt.

“...I’m instantly hungry.”

As a devoted carnivore, Aino had frequently hunted magical creatures during her travels with Chloe. Yet the taste had been far from satisfying.

For a black dragon like her, who avoided making a spectacle or initiating fights, she was practically a “vegetarian monk” in the eyes of other dragons.

Dragons, particularly black dragons, were inherently ferocious predators. The Black Dragon King Tananorn epitomized this savagery, constantly fighting and feasting. Aino’s restrained diet of low-grade magical creatures was laughable in comparison.

Now, though, she had caught the scent of something “premium.” For Aino, the allure was as intense as it would be for a vampire detecting fresh, high-quality blood.

“I have to get my hands on that,” Aino thought immediately.

With time to spare before her meeting, lingering in this city a bit longer wasn’t a problem. Judging by the smell, the source might even be for sale, making it easier to acquire.

Following the scent through the bustling streets, Aino soon pinpointed its origin: a small, nondescript stall.

The setup was crude—a black cloth spread on the ground with about a dozen containers arranged on top.

Each container held a different type of blood, some bright red, others blackened, and a few even bubbling ominously.

What caught Aino’s attention was a bottle stored in a purple container. Its contents were a pure, vibrant red, untainted by any other hue, as if it embodied the very essence of red itself.

One glance was enough for Aino to know that this was no ordinary substance.

Despite the peculiar product, the stall was largely ignored by passersby. Aino stood alone before it, and the shopkeeper, sitting silently across from her with their head lowered, remained still.

But Aino could tell—this was a vampire. And the blood in that bottle contained traces of essence from a progenitor-level vampire.

How strange.

For a vampire to be so destitute as to sell the essence of a progenitor’s blood—a treasure held sacred and fiercely guarded by their kind—was highly unusual.

Surely, there was an untold story behind it. But Aino didn’t care about the vampire’s circumstances.

Her only focus was figuring out how to acquire that bottle of essence.