Charlotte edged in again, arms opening like spring sunlight spilling through a window. “Come on~~ don’t be shy. Charlotte can be Mom or Dad, no problem~!”

Fear hit Fulin first, cold as frost on glass. She crossed her arms tight over her chest, a shy girl guarding her heart.

As Charlotte drifted closer like a tide at dusk, Fulin backed away step by step, retreating to the carriage’s corner like a trembling rabbit.

Charlotte’s gentle glow curdled into a heh-heh, pervy grin, slick as oil. Fulin raised her tiny fists and protested, voice sharp as a bell, “Do you even listen!?”

Charlotte beamed, bright as lantern light. “Of course. Big Sis is listening, oh yes~~”

She lunged, arms spread like someone scooping up a hen. The move came fast, a shadow across the straw.

Fulin slipped aside like wind through reeds. Charlotte’s head smacked the carriage wall with a skull-bell thunk.

Anyone else would’ve blacked out, limp as a dropped cloth. Charlotte popped up unfazed, eyes stranger, smile skewed like a cracked mask.

“Don’t be shy~~ Big Sis accepts all of you,” her voice poured sweet as honey, then changed flavor. “Even if you grow up like Lord Shelika, always in heat, messy and sultry—”

“Even if you have lots of babies with random men, it’s fine. Big Sis will take responsibility and raise them~~”

The sweetness flipped to black in a breath, sugar burning into smoke. “Of course~~ those random men, Big Sis will take responsibility too. I’ll kill them, one by one.”

Hearing that, Fulin nearly fainted, vision tipping like a boat in storm.

She had to admit Charlotte’s brain spun like a windmill in a squall. Charlotte lightly ignored Shelika vanishing, then leapt to soap-opera mixed-blood drama.

If it were just daydreams, fine. The deadly part was—this girl meant it.

To stop the misunderstanding from breeding like weeds, Fulin breathed deep, cool as night water. She chose to enter Charlotte’s logic first.

She spoke solemnly, a small body carrying an old soul. “Put aside mixed blood. The Blood Clan has more than the Darkborn Lineage. Maybe I’m one of their branches.”

The trick worked. Charlotte’s nympho glaze cleared like mist. She sat and actually thought. “Indeed~~”

But she shook her head, twin-tails swaying like willow fronds. “It’s impossible.”

“Why impossible?” Fulin’s brows knit like stitched silk. “Besides the Darkborn, there’s the Blood-Extended Lineage.”

Charlotte nodded, then tapped the brakes with a sigh. “You’re not wrong. But the Blood-Extended Lineage lives in seclusion.”

“They dwell in the Imperial secret realms, doors shut like winter gates. They never touch the outside. You can’t be their child.”

Her twin-tails swished and swung like playful cats. Fulin wanted to tug them, itch prickling like static. She binned the urge and reset her tone.

“Other than the Blood-Extended Lineage, the Blood Clan can’t just have two branches, right?”

When she wasn’t being silly, Charlotte’s study-queen side shone like polished steel. “You’re right, little sister. But before the Gaia Empire unified, war lasted like a long winter.”

“Except our Darkborn Lineage, the other Blood Clan refused to coexist with the Demonic Human Race or the Earthfolk.”

“So they disappeared in the end. Do you understand~~?”

“I see…” Fulin drifted into thought, eyes lowered like clouds before rain.

Charlotte pounced on that pause, arms circling like a cradle. She scooped Fulin up like a porcelain doll and nuzzled cheek to cheek.

“Big Sis’s daughter is just too cute~!” Her voice melted like warm butter.

Fulin admitted she’d let her guard slip. She shoved Charlotte away, tone resetting to steel. “I keep saying I’m not Shelika’s child!”

“Then who are you?” Charlotte’s smile angled, sly as a fox. “From what I know, to change so alike, even matching mana scent—”

“Only direct blood relatives can pull that off. So~~”

She bent again, face close, warmth pressing like a hearth. She tapped Fulin’s little nose, playful as a snowflake touch.

“If you’re not Elder Sis’s daughter, what else could you be?”

Watching that mix of genuine kindness and occasional pervy grin, Fulin felt a dangerous urge to go with it, like stepping into soft sand.

Maybe just admit it. The thought glowed like ember.

No, no! She shook herself inside, a bell struck sharp. If she admitted it, Charlotte would haul her home and raise her.

Wait, being kept might be nice? No, no! Her head shook again, stubborn as a pine in wind.

She’d live a quiet life on her own. Resolve settled like stone.

In the corner’s shadow, Fulin lifted her head, tremble fading like dew. “Actually, I am…”

She stood as she spoke, and her presence rose like a storm-front. The little-loli veneer peeled like paint.

“You actually are?” Charlotte felt the pressure shift like air before lightning. She stepped back on instinct.

“Actually, I am…” Fulin repeated, voice low as a drumbeat.

Black aura gathered by her side, ink-thick and smoky. It beaded into dark droplets, then flowed inward like rain to a lake.

The fog clung to her, layer by layer, a night cloak weaving itself tight.

Fulin triggered Dual Incarnation, changing into Lance, the scene unfolding like a ritual painted in shadow.

In a blink, Fulin stood as Lance, the image sharp as a drawn blade, and she did it right under Charlotte’s eyes.

Charlotte seized up, PTSD flaring like a struck match. She flushed angrily and stomped her little boots like a sparrow pecking earth.

“You’re not dead. I’m so mad, so mad~~!”

“No, wait!” She jerked herself clear, smile forcing back like a mask pulled on. “Little sister, don’t turn into that Nordland human.”

“Don’t use transformation magic to scare Big Sis, okay?”

“You think this is transformation magic?” Lance set a knight pose, cape rippling like a banner in wind.

He drew Battle Aura, fire blooming in his palm like a rising sun. He held the living flame out for Charlotte to see.

Even Charlotte knew the line. Transformation can change skin, not bones. It can’t mimic power’s heartbeat.

Faced with the real thrum of Battle Aura, she gasped. “That’s impossible!”

Fulin dissolved the Dual Incarnation, Lance peeling away like smoke, and the little girl returned like dawn after night.

After that, Charlotte cooled, thoughts settling like dust. She started to grasp the aim of Fulin’s reveal.

Seeing her finally sober, Fulin spoke, voice steady as a string drawn taut. “I’m a Chaos Vampire. I can inherit another’s appearance and power.”

Charlotte’s mind balked, headache blooming like a bruise. She rubbed her temples, circles slow as millstones.

“So, little sister, was that form ‘copied’?”

Fulin shook her tiny pinky, small no cutting like a thin blade. “No. Not ‘copied’.”

“Then what?” Charlotte’s headache throbbed like a drum.

“Picture this,” Fulin said, words cool as river water. “You die before me, body still warm like bread out of the oven.”

“I can fully take your looks, your power, and part of your memory.”

“That’s my Chaos Vampire ability. Clear?”

Charlotte listened, sorrow pooling like dusk in an empty room. She crouched, hugging her knees, twin-tails drooping like wilted lilies.

“So… Elder Sis is actually dead?”

Fulin stood with arms crossed, a small figure feigning cold as iron. “Yes. Shelika is dead.”

“Not just Shelika. The Blazing Fire Knight, Lance… they’re both dead.”

“It’s me, Chaos Vampire, Fulin Belit, keeping you company in a staged game.”

Charlotte raised her head from her knees, eyes meeting Fulin’s winter-cool gaze. Regret and relief braided in her smile like twin threads.

“You’re so gentle… little sister Fulin.”

“Am I?” Fulin murmured. She extended a hand, calm as moonlight over a pond, and condensed a cluster of blood essence.

“What’s this?” Charlotte’s eyes drew to the glow, gold pulsing like a heart. It pulled at her, sweet gravity tugging soul and breath.

Fulin lifted her hand, the radiance flaring brighter, noon sun on river gold. “This is my true power as a Chaos Vampire.”

“I can command blood essence.”