The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha!-Chapter 223 - 01: Going Home

The Fifth Era of Elf History, Silver Moon Year 1, December. That is, four months after the "Battle of Salted Fish Port".

Midnight. The southeast corner of the Kolin Peninsula in the eastern Keltos Continent. Two tiny bats struggled to fly against the wind. One wore a small bow tie, and the other dragged a ridiculously oversized bundle.

"Lord Jones! Lord Jones! Wait for Dora! Please wait for Dora!"

"I told you not to bring so many things!"

"No way, these items are absolutely necessary! Aunt Sarah said she wants a set of human perfumes." freёwebnoѵel.com

"I’m off to conquer the world, and she’s secretly asking you to bring gifts?"

"And Cousin Lipika, Cousin-in-law Becker, Uncle Douglas, Grandma Devine, Cousin Susan..."

"Oh my god, am I going on vacation? You secretly bought all this stuff behind my back?"

"Dora worked secretly for ages to save up and buy everything..." Dora muttered, feeling wronged.

Jones was furious: "So while I was busy conquering the world, you were waitressing in a restaurant?"

"No, I usually prefer delivering parcels. Waitressing was just an occasional side hustle. Oh, and the old master also asked someone to send a letter. He wants to see us wearing armor, so we absolutely have to bring our armor."

"Wait a minute. You didn’t tell him we switched to drinking pig’s blood, did you?"

Jones suddenly turned his head and stared at her with wide eyes.

Dora was so scared she plummeted downward, flapping her wings frantically to pull herself up along with the bundle, stammering: "No! Dora didn’t say anything!"

"Thank goodness." Jones exhaled deeply, relief flooding his face.

Dora cautiously ventured, "But Dora did tell him we pray before drinking blood..."

Jones was completely stunned.

Dora thought for a moment, and then added in a small voice, "And I might’ve mentioned that we go to church weekly for service..."

"You... How did I end up with a servant as foolish as you! Do you think I don’t care at all about my dignity?"

Jones let out a thunderous roar before wheeling around to fly back. Dora, panicking, grabbed him with one foot: "Lord Jones, please don’t be angry!"

"I’m not going back! Back for what? To be humiliated?"

"The old master is still waiting for us at home!"

"If you want to go back, fine! Go yourself! I’m definitely not going back!"

"Lord Jones, please, don’t be like this! Dora knows she was wrong!"

"Idiot! Stop it! We’re gonna fall! Ahhh—!"

The two bats tussled mid-air, wings tangling, and along with the enormous bundle, they plummeted into the woods below, startling a flock of birds into flight.

...

Kolin Peninsula—a magical place in the southeastern corner of the continent.

What’s so magical about it?

The weather here completely defies logic. During the biting cold of winter, while other places are blanketed in snow, it might blaze under a glaring sun. In the sweltering heat of summer, when others are nearly melting, this place might see blizzards. If it were merely inverted, that’d be understandable—it would at least be predictable—but the trouble is when it suddenly becomes "normal." And at any given time, year-round, this place might see typhoons, hailstorms...

In human terms: "A cursed place." Nobody wants to live here.

Over time, this place actually became a "cursed" place—a haven for supernatural creatures.

Any species able to survive here, whether animal or plant, must be exceptionally tough. Because of the sparse human population, many species that have gone extinct elsewhere on the continent still exist here. For example, magical beasts, goblins, and various creations from the experimental remnants of the God and Demon Era. And of course, vampires.

Yes, vampires live here. Not just one pack, but several. The Jones family happens to be one of those packs.

After lots of struggling, hesitating, wriggling, and agonizing, Jones and Dora finally arrived at the front gate of their home.

Count Dracula’s castle stood perched on a cliff, perpetually shrouded in dark clouds that blocked all sunlight. Thundershowers were frequent occurrences. Surrounding it were withered woods and graveyards. Don’t ask me—if vampires are supposed to be immortal, and nobody lives here, where did the graveyards come from? I’d like to know that too!

In short, picture the quintessential vampire castle—a dark, gloomy, and theatrical landmark.

As for its main gate, it was located a full kilometer away from the castle itself. Standing outside the fence, one could gaze at the castle’s grand silhouette from afar. Passing through the gate meant traversing graveyards and weaving through swampy, waterlogged paths in withered woods before finally arriving at the castle.

Why design the main gate to be so far away?

Simply put, vampires are extremely territorial.

This is one explanation. Another explanation is that Hayman Dracula, Jones’s biological father and the Earl, built long fences and placed the gate far away in an effort to flaunt the castle’s size to rival vampire clans. Anything enclosed within the fence counted as castle grounds—even if it was completely barren. But hey, bragging rights are bragging rights, right?

As if the lightning flashed to match Jones’s mood, a sudden burst of brightness illuminated his face.

With a rumbling sound overhead, Jones stood before the rusty gate of the fence, gazing at the castle where he had grown up. He glanced at the tightly shut gate, then at the Mummy Guard standing nearby.

The Mummy Guard stared back at him.

"You don’t intend to open the gate for me, do you?"

"Do you need me to open the gate for you, young master?"

"What do you think? Also, stop calling me young master! It makes me sound like a child. Call me Lord Jones!"

"Understood, young master. Always happy to serve you, young master."

The mummy pushed open the gate.

Jones’s eyebrow twitched violently as he trudged forward step by step.

The "Grand Avenue" leading to Dracula’s castle was steeped in decay. On both sides stood dead trees, while the narrow road—barely wide enough for a single carriage—was littered with fallen leaves that rustled underfoot.

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