CHAPTER 310: LATE

"It should be here."

Standing at the edge of the dense forest, Melinda glanced around and gave a slight nod.

Behind her, ten soldiers in white armor stood at attention, swords hanging at their waists.

They were special guards Melinda had brought to accompany her in meeting her younger sister, Claire, whom she hadn’t seen in a long time.

"Let’s move. Stay alert. Understood?" Melinda’s gaze swept over them, sharp and commanding.

"Understood, Concubine!" the soldiers replied in unison.

Melinda nodded slightly and stepped forward, the soldiers fanning out around her.

All they saw along the way were stretches of dense trees swaying in the wind.

Fifteen minutes later, they emerged at the forest’s edge and found a row of neatly arranged wooden houses. Villagers chatted casually, and children ran around, laughing and playing.

Without hesitation, Melinda advanced with her guards.

Noticing their approach, the villagers turned, eyes wide with surprise.

"Good afternoon," Melinda greeted, her voice calm and indifferent. "I’m looking for someone named Claire Horven. Could you tell me where she lives?"

Her calm demeanor hid a subtle, pressing aura that made the villagers instinctively uneasy.

Her appearance only added to their awe: a striking red dress paired with gold jewelry—a necklace, rings, and bracelets that looked impossibly expensive.

To them, Melinda seemed less human and more like a goddess.

Once they processed her question, shock rippled across their faces.

"Claire Horven? Do you mean the white-haired woman with blind eyes, Madam?" A young man asked, polite and cautious.

Melinda turned to him, nodding slightly. "Yes, that’s her. Can you tell me where she lives?"

Before leaving, her father had told her that Claire was somewhere in this village. Of course, she didn’t know the exact location, which was why she had to ask the villagers.

When they realized the woman she sought was the same witch who had left a few days ago, their faces darkened.

Melinda immediately noticed the change. Curiously, she asked, "What’s wrong? Has that woman caused you trouble?"

The young man who had spoken before shook his head. "No, Madam. But the woman you’re looking for is a witch. She left with a friend a few days ago."

Melinda froze. "A witch? And she left with a friend just a few days ago?"

Her heart pounded. She didn’t care why Claire was called a witch—the problem was that the woman was gone.

"Yes, with her friend," the young man repeated.

Melinda fell silent for a moment, then her expression hardened.

Who dared to take that blind woman... she muttered, her voice icy.

Her relationship with Claire had never been good, and not without reason.

Since childhood, Melinda had been her father’s only daughter. Their life had been happy—at least until he brought home that white-haired girl.

In just a few days, their family harmony shattered. Her mother had been furious with her father, and the anger had eventually claimed her life.

To make matters worse, the girl proved to be exceptionally talented. She could recognize letters just by touching picture books.

Her mind was remarkably sharp, capable of accomplishing things that should have been impossible for someone her age.

For Melinda, Claire’s very existence didn’t just shatter her parents’ marriage—it threatened the life and position that should have been hers.

From that moment on, her hatred for Claire grew until she no longer considered her human.

As far as Melinda could remember, the blind girl had never had anyone by her side, let alone a friend.

Now, learning that Claire had left with a "friend" made her suspicions boil over.

"Can you tell me what the person who took her looked like?" Melinda asked, forcing her inner turmoil into control.

The young man nodded. "He was about 18 to 20 years old and very tall—almost two meters. His hair was white, and his eyes were red, like pomegranates."

"A young man, tall, with red eyes?" Melinda repeated, her brow furrowed.

She racked her memory, trying to recall if she had ever seen—or even heard of—someone matching that description.

Yet no matter how hard she tried, no such figure came to mind.

Suddenly, her father’s warning came rushing back.

"Don’t underestimate Nolan Lorian."

Badump!

Her heart thudded painfully, and cold sweat trickled down her neck and back.

Don’t tell me... it’s him... she muttered, her voice trembling.

Nolan was still very young—only eighteen.

He was tall, nearly 1.95 meters, and his hair and eyes could be disguised or altered with magic.

"This is not good!" Melinda suddenly exclaimed, startling both the villagers and her soldiers.

"Back to the carriage! Now!" She shouted, panic sharp in her voice.

The soldiers exchanged confused glances, but none dared to disobey.

They turned on the spot and sprinted, leaving the villagers frozen in stunned silence.

...

As the heart of the Great Velmora Empire, the capital city of Solvaria was naturally an elite area. Even land on its outskirts was far more expensive than in other major cities across the four main regions.

The city center was crowded with various offices, including administrative departments and other important institutions.

Yet the most striking building belonged to the Blue Moon Trading House.

It spanned three hectares and was enclosed by a sturdy black fence. Its design followed a medieval architectural style, like most other buildings, but subtle futuristic touches made it beautiful, unique, and impossible to ignore for anyone passing by.

The building had three floors, each dedicated to a different line of business.

After all, the Blue Moon Trading House had numerous enterprises, so separating the areas made managing each business easier for the employees.

The top floor housed the private quarters of the supreme leader of the Blue Moon Trading House—Shion.

At that moment, Shion sat in her chair, piles of paperwork scattered across her desk.

"Hoaam..." she yawned, stretching her stiff body. "I’m really tired. When will this damn work ever end?"

With a sigh, she sipped her coffee to wake herself up, then stood and walked toward the large glass window on her right.

Staring at her reflection, Shion let out a long, weary sigh.

"I’m so beautiful... So why doesn’t Master ever notice me?"

Her words weren’t mere arrogant boasting. At 1.75 meters, she was taller than the average woman.

Her face was flawless, with a small mole on the lower left side of her lip.

Her burgundy hair flowed long and silky, the front strands neatly braided on both sides, giving her a charming, mature appearance.

Her waist was slim, her hips rounded, and her bust fuller than most women’s.

She could easily claim the title of the most beautiful and alluring woman in the capital.

And yet, despite all that, Master showed no interest in her, which frustrated her immensely.

Just as her irritation peaked, a soft voice came from behind.

"What’s got you frowning? Isn’t the pay I give you enough?"