Emma was utterly heartbroken. As a beastkin, her strength couldn’t even match a ten-year-old human girl’s. It crushed her. Back in her clan, she’d been a rare warrior—no one who faced her ever won. Now, staring at the golden hammers in the pit, Emma shed silent tears.

She couldn’t even grip a hammer anymore. She’d disgraced the title of werewolf clan warrior. Wah-wah-wah… so sad, she just wanted to cry. Wah-wah-wah… she needed Alan’s comfort.

Alan flashed beside her in an instant. After checking her carefully and confirming she was unharmed, he sighed in relief. Ignorance truly is bliss. Sia’s golden hammers were custom-made by Dema Count—far heavier than anyone could imagine.

Not even Alan could lift them without secretly using magic. Born with superhuman strength—you think it’s a joke?

“Wah-wah-wah, Alan! Emma’s useless! As a werewolf clan warrior, I can’t even hold a hammer. Wah-wah-wah… I’ve disgraced the title. I’m so heartbroken.”

Emma threw herself into Alan’s arms, sobbing. Alan gently stroked the blue fur on her head. That “werewolf clan warrior” title? Pure fiction. The real warriors must’ve let her have it. After all, Emma was the werewolf clan’s little princess—pampered endlessly because of it.

“Hehe, Emma, don’t be sad. Even Alan-brother can’t lift my golden hammers without magic.” Sia, standing nearby, giggled comfortingly. To her, if Alan-brother couldn’t manage them, someone Emma’s size definitely couldn’t.

“Really?” Emma blinked up at Alan through tears. He smiled and nodded. “Sia’s telling the truth. Few in all of Newdali City can lift her hammers easily. It’s not you—it’s just how heavy they are.”

Locke, the Count’s steward, saw the massive pit in Cloud Peak Guild. A wry smile touched his stern face. Besides Dema Count himself, only a kid like Alan could tolerate his young mistress’s strength. No wonder Sia clung to him—and why the Count treated Alan like a nephew.

Fate truly was wondrous. Locke watched Alan and Sia fondly. In a few years, after Sia’s coming-of-age ceremony, the Count would likely announce their engagement.

“Young Master Alan, I entrust the young mistress to your care these days.” Locke approached Alan with a smile.

“I’ll take good care of Sia. Uncle Locke and the Count can rest easy.”

Locke nodded. He pulled a magic crystal card from his pocket. “Young Master Alan, Sia’s living expenses are on this card. The password’s her birth date—”

Alan shook his head, smiling. “Uncle Locke, you’re slapping me in the face. Take it back. I’ve got Sia’s expenses covered. Don’t worry—I won’t let her suffer. If nothing else, you should head out. No need to stay for dinner.”

Alan couldn’t accept it. He’d known Sia five years—she’d called him “brother” nonstop. Taking the card would make him unworthy of that title. Besides, Dema Count treated him like family, inviting him to banquets constantly. How could he take Locke’s card?

“Young Master Alan, you really are…” Locke didn’t push. He tucked the card away, admiration in his eyes. Alan truly saw Sia as a sister. “Alright. I’ll take my leave.”

He turned to Sia. “Young mistress, stay here with Young Master Alan. We’ll fetch you the moment the Count and I return.”

“I know. Tell Dad not to worry—Alan-brother will protect me.” Sia skipped to Alan’s side, hugging his arm. This time, she held back her strength, sparing his shoulder.

Locke bowed slightly, hands clasped, and left Cloud Peak Guild.

The moment he vanished, guild members gasped for air. Haina and Medi exhaled deeply—Medi’s forehead glistened with sweat.

That steward Locke radiated terrifying power. From his entrance, Medi felt crushing pressure. He must know her secret. She sipped deep red wine from the bar, calming her panic.

“Little sister Sia, your steward’s terrifying. Every time I see him, I feel like a mouse under a cat’s paw—helpless.” Dass sighed from the hall.

“You must’ve done something bad, Dass. Why fear Locke? Alan-brother isn’t scared.”

Dass fell silent. What had he done? The point was Locke’s sheer power!

“Sia, no rooms left on the second floor. Find one on the third tonight—and sleep with me, okay?” Alan stroked her smooth golden hair.

“Oh, fine. I’m not picky. But I want to sleep with Alan-brother.”

“Awooo!” Ghostly howls erupted. Sia’s words fired up the guild’s male members. They recalled Alan’s twelve-year-old mantra: “Lolitas have three charms: soft voice, light body, easy to topple.”

“Ahem. Sia’s a big girl now. Don’t say things like that—it’ll ruin your marriage chances.” Alan coughed, tapping her forehead lightly.

Sia puffed her cheeks, glaring. “Hmph! Alan-brother, you’re abandoning me after leading me on! You promised to marry me when I cried as a kid. Now you want me married off? You’re not good. I don’t like you anymore!”

Alan broke into a cold sweat. He’d just been comforting her. Without those promises, her lion-like wails would’ve shattered eardrums citywide.