The little werewolf spoke frankly and straightforwardly.
Since childhood, she was close to her Fourth Aunt, who was also the strongest in the clan and her idol. In her heart, her Fourth Aunt was a peerless hero, but she often saw her aunt drinking alone under the moon, with a melancholic and forlorn demeanor.
When Cassandra was young, she didn't understand why her Fourth Aunt was sorrowful about the moon, but as she grew up, she came to understand, yet felt it wasn't worth it.
Her Fourth Aunt was misled by a scum woman.
Anyway, the little werewolf didn't have a good impression of that aunt-in-law she rarely met.
"Hmph, I don't think the Dracula family will remain glorious for many more years. I can smell the ambition of the other Twelve Clans from far away; it's karma."
"Enough."
The little werewolf's murmur was cut off by a stern shout. Cassandra looked up to see her Fourth Aunt's ascetic yet handsome face looking at her expressionlessly, seemingly somewhat angry.
