“I want to become someone who can slap the cheek of a great noble.”

“What on earth are you talking about as soon as you wake up?”

Evie lay on the bed, revealing her new ambition, and Diess, standing in front of the mirror, scolded her with sleepy eyes.

It was a morning where the sky was beginning to brighten.

Evie, who had been momentarily sentimental the night before, stretched broadly towards the early morning.

Then she spoke to Diess, who was already changing clothes and buttoning his sleeves.

“If I have to compromise, I’m fine with someone who can hit the shin.”

“Slapping the cheek or hitting the shin, both are too difficult tasks. You need to come to your senses, so go wash your face first.”

At Diess’s rational rebuke, Evie obediently headed to the washroom. Then she deliberately splashed cold water on her face.

After washing away the things from the night, Evie entrusted her wet hair to Diess and said,

“The count revealed his identity first yesterday. It seems like he didn’t want to hide it.”

Whether he thought hiding was pointless, or there was no need to hide at all, she didn’t know.

“But the more I see, the more he’s not different from what I’ve heard, right? That person.”

Evie said so, recalling the rumors about Count Zion Laurel.

According to society’s gossip, Zion Laurel had flawless beauty, dazzling blond hair, and empty, lifeless eyes.

But so far, the eyes of the count that Evie had seen were always full, filled with obstinacy, arrogance, and mischief.

“It certainly is distant from the word ’empty.'”

Diess, drying Evie’s hair with a towel, seemed to agree.

“But it should be empty. Historically, the Laurels have been that way.”

“Great nobles even inherit that. That’s amazing…”

“It’s not that they inherit it…”

Diess supplemented Evie’s soulless admiration.

“There are two theories here. One is that they train to empty their minds to receive the favor of Tardes. Because if a person with the power to crash dragons has any likes or dislikes, problems will surely arise.”

“That problem has already arisen.”

Evie Ariate, who pinpointed and buried the one with the power to crash dragons, is here.

Evie pouted, thinking anew how strange the incident she had been subjected to was.

“And the other one is a disease caused by the battle with Amaneserer.”

“A disease?”

“Some see it as mental damage caused by excessive shock, but the more plausible hypothesis is this one.”

Amaneserer. A mad dragon as big as Tienda.

Evie tried to imagine what it would feel like to fight such a thing.

But she couldn’t grasp it, instead recalling the time she was surrounded by Tardes’s daughters a few days ago.

It was scary…

Evie shuddered, thinking of the red dragons who were friendly to people but a little mischievous.

Facing one daughter would have felt lifethreatening, let alone Amaneserer.

“There’s also a story about a watcher who went mad just from seeing Amaneserer flying. Just seeing it is like this, so those who fight it fiercely must find it hard to keep their sanity.”

But the current count doesn’t look empty at all; rather, he seems twisted.

Evie sulked and repeated the count’s history to herself.

Zion Laurel became a count and was sent to the border seven years ago.

Since he is twentyfour this year, he was sent to such a place as a seventeenyearold boy.

Considering that he fought the great calamity Amaneserer since then, his personality twisting to this extent is somewhat understandable.

Evie nodded inwardly, and Diess, having dried Evie’s hair enough, picked up a comb and continued speaking.

“Anyway, the fact that Zion Laurel is different from his predecessors is true. This applies to the personality that has been revealed this time, and also the speed at which he repelled Amaneserer.”

“The speed?”

Certainly, here is the translated passage:

“Originally, the battles with Amaneser last for days. The Count too initially fought that long, but gradually reduced the time, and now subdues Amaneser in just a few hours. At the border, they claim it’s a stable watch, but in fact, it should be seen as an extraordinary event.”

Being talented is one thing, and being dangerous is another.

Either way, something is different.

Could this difference be related to the ‘debt’ the Count mentioned?

Evie thought deeply and tied the words together.

“The Count told me yesterday. The person he owes is the astrologer uncle I know.”

Die’s brushing paused momentarily before moving again.

Not seeming too surprised, he seemed to have made a similar guess as soon as he saw the Count in this house.

“Can we trust that?”

“I don’t know.”

Evie narrowed her brows at the butler’s question. Then she spoke as if reading a book.

“Montara Viscount likes Evie. But Evie entangled with Count Laurel, he hates.”

This is an obvious result of calculation.

Everything’s value changes depending on the situation.

Like the value of sweet candy and candy tangled with ants changing.