Yanan Town, cemetery.
In the cemetery, now several times larger than before, old gravedigger John stood solemnly waiting in a black robe at a corner.
In the Lancaster Family burial grounds, a grand funeral was underway.
Every Lancaster had come, and many were weeping.
Because the mountain that sheltered them had collapsed!
Kalin!
This shield-mountain of the family had finally reached the end of his life.
He had led the Lancaster Family into a new age of glory, and his achievements would be remembered by all.
Aaron blended into the townsfolk who had come to mourn, utterly inconspicuous.
He glanced at old John, with no intention of going back to being a gravedigger.
After all, sixty years had already passed. Going back to guard graves for others now—wasn't that just cheapening himself?
He placed a white daisy before Kalin's grave. "Your spirit may be passed on, but your bloodline has long since been cut off..."
Aaron muttered to himself.
Kalin had long been a demon hunter. There was a reproductive barrier between him and ordinary people; it was simply impossible for him to have descendants.
So... the origins of Catherine's children were highly questionable.
There was probably already a whole green pasture growing atop Kalin's head.
Of course, considering how much nobles needed heirs, perhaps Kalin had consented to it. When the two of them got down to business, he might even have been standing outside keeping watch...
The facts prove once again that simps never die well!
Aaron mocked inwardly, then turned and left the cemetery.
Late at night.
Inside a two-story villa.
Aaron had set aside a small herb room for himself.
Three years had passed. Even the constable had been replaced, and any surveillance had naturally become impossible to speak of.
By now, he had become