After wandering around the city for a while without encountering anything particularly interesting, Norton decided it was time to head back to Drakenhof Castle to continue his magical experiments. His carriage had just reached the city gate when something unexpected caught his attention, prompting an involuntary "Eh?" from him.

Looking from the carriage window, he noticed a rather nondescript tavern—not a surprising sight, as it was a functional business. Citizens often ended their day with a mug of cheap beer at such places, spending their hard-earned coin, or engaging with gaudy waitresses to let off some steam. The vampire authorities in Sylvannia generally turned a blind eye to such activities.

What captured Norton's interest was a boisterous group inside the tavern. It was still well before dusk, so the place was nearly empty, making this group stand out even more with their loud banter and boisterousness.

Unlike the locals, these men were distinctly different: rugged and brawny, with coarse skin, yellowed teeth, and murky eyes—traits of uncouth and unruly individuals. Ordinarily, such demeanor might be shrugged off, but what Norton couldn’t ignore was that they were armed.

In Sylvannia, commoners were strictly forbidden from bearing any arms. While they could amass wealth through trade or become large landowners, or even build grand homes, under no circumstances were they to be armed. This was an inviolable decree from the vampires ruling over the living.

Most of these men carried swords, axes, maces, and some had shields. One even had a crossbow at his feet and two carried short bows. Their attire leaned towards military style, featuring scale armor, chainmail shirts, reinforced leather, and breastplates common in the Sigma Empire. Clearly, they were soldiers.

"It's rare to see a group of fully armed human soldiers here."

Intrigued, Norton wondered about their identity—enemies? Unlikely. They didn’t appear insane or like lone warriors capable of taking on a whole army. Just nearby, the northern city gate garrison housed a regiment of tomb guardians and skeleton soldiers. If they were enemies, those undead soldiers would have reacted—and they certainly wouldn’t be here drinking and eating merrily.

Then friends? Again, unlikely. Norton was not aware of any family policy allowing the recruitment of human soldiers.

Unable to puzzle it out, Norton decided to investigate. He jumped out of the carriage and walked towards the tavern. His maid Maya tried to hold him back, but he shook her off, leaving her with no choice but to follow.

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Seeing a vampire nobleman—even a child one—on the streets, Drakenhof’s citizens quickly showed deference. In the carriage, they could pretend not to see him, but now they couldn't afford to ignore him. After all, this was vampire territory, and disrespect towards rulers could invite dire consequences.

The townspeople stepped aside, bowing and offering blessings. Norton accepted their politeness with ease, though Maya fretted at the attention, awkwardly bowing in return until Norton glared at her. Realizing her mistake, she kept her head down and stayed close behind him.

Norton pushed the tavern door open and walked in, bypassing the soldiers to approach the bar. He made a series of gestures, casting a levitation spell to rise to eye level with the tavern keeper.

"W-what can I get for you, young master?" the tavern keeper stammered, never having faced a vampire directly and feeling immense pressure. He’d never expected one of the secluded castle dwellers to visit his humble tavern.

"A hot milk."

"…Huh?"

Everyone present, including Maya, was likely taken aback by his request. The tavern keeper was momentarily speechless.

"Do you have it or not?" Norton inquired, slightly irritated.

"Y-yes, right away!" The tavern keeper couldn’t risk saying no. He planned to dash out the back to get it from the nearest restaurant.

Before he could move, one of the soldiers slammed the table, laughing loudly, "Which house are you from, little lord? This isn’t the place for you. If you want milk, go home to your mommy, haha…"

His companions, realizing his folly, tried to cover his mouth, but Norton merely smiled.

"Hah…"

A soft laugh from Norton echoed clearly, freezing everyone in the tavern. It was as if their hearts had momentarily stopped.

Norton turned to face the rude soldier with a chilling smile. The man screamed as if struck by lightning, collapsing onto the table.

Seeing their comrade attacked, the soldiers instinctively overturned the table and drew their weapons violently.

"Everyone calm down! Don’t offend the nobleman!"

One, appearing to be their leader, clad in a slightly tarnished breastplate, quickly restrained them. Bowing deeply to Norton, he loudly apologized.

"My subordinate acted foolishly. I am deeply sorry. Please, don’t mind him. We'll leave immediately."

He turned as if to flee towards the door, only for it to suddenly shut with a gust of wind.

"You think you can just leave? Did you really think it would be that simple?" Norton remarked coolly.

"Then what would you have us do?" the leader asked, again restraining his agitated men.

"Sylvannia upholds strict laws, and I consider myself a fair ruler. I won’t pursue your insolence, but he—" Norton pointed at the unconscious soldier, "—insulted my mother. You may leave, but he stays."

"Understood!"

Surprisingly, without hesitation, the leader agreed to Norton’s terms. However, a few of his subordinates, seemingly close to the unconscious soldier, protested loudly, "Captain! How can you do this?!"

"Enough! I've made my decision!" the captain declared, silencing them with his commanding gaze. Clearly, he held considerable authority among them.