Chapter 309: Could Sabrina’s bloodline be sealed?

The Grand Elder saw her reaction, and it confirmed something he suspected about her. Like her mother, it was likely that Zyra had dark Somnivore blood. Zena had truly found a way to stop her daughter from awakening! But what had she done?

Could it be replicated? Could he seal Sabrina’s bloodline and take away the thing she was most proud of? He was sure 50% of the problems in their family would go away of she was an ordinary human.

He waved a casual hand, "Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m an old bone that is not seeking immortality anyway. All those are just rumors. But if you know any Soul maidens with dark blood, tell them to be careful. Their deaths and disappearances have always been something of a secret among special circles."

Zyra gulped. She forced herself to smile, not wanting to give anything away. "Beauty, hand me a pack of dried mixed fruits, please."

[Right away, Host!] a crisp, cheerful voice echoed out of nowhere.

Ten seconds later, she took it out of her beast pocket and dangled it before the grand elder. "Here. A morning snack."

If someone had told the Kaelions that their terrifying, stoic Grand Elder could look like a five-year-old kid standing in front of a candy cart one day, they would have called it heresy. But right now, his eyes practically saucer sized. He snatched the pack like it was an expensive artifact, tearing open the top with frantic energy.

"Is that_ is this a dry persimmon!" He gasped, pulling out a round, aromatic fruit. "I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a child! Half these fruits went extinct in the apocalypse. I cannot believe you have them. Fresh or dried, it is a miracle!"

He took a huge bite. The sweetness burst into his mouth, and for a second, he looked like he was ascending straight to the upper realms.

Then, his face froze. A look of profound confusion mixed with utter surprise washed over him. His jaw worked slowly as if he was trying to savor the taste.

With great care, he gently spat a handful of small, hard seeds out into his palm. He stared at the seeds, then slowly raised his head to look at Zyra, his eyebrows practically reaching his hairline. "Are these seeds?"

Zyra couldn’t help it. She chuckled and gave him a firm nod.

The Grand Elder picked up one tiny seed with two trembling fingers, holding it up to the light as if inspecting a rare gem.

"Dry seeds? Can they be planted?" He asked curiously.

She nodded. "Raw ones are better, but these can bear fruit too with proper soil, nutrients and care."

He let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "Child, if people got their hands on seeds like these, everyone could just plant their own food! The Sanctum wouldn’t be able to control the people with food rations anymore!"

Zyra leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice to a playful whisper. "To be entirely honest with you, I actually have raw fruit and plant seeds."

The Grand Elder’s lips twitched into a wide, conspiratorial grin. "Of course you do. Why am I even surprised at this point?"

They both burst into a sudden fit of giggles, looking for all the world like two mischievous kids who had just figured out how to steal the Trinity’s favorite tea leaves.

"So," the Grand Elder whispered, leaning in, "does that mean you might just happen to have some raw persimmon seeds?"

"I might," Zyra smiled, her eyes twinkling. "And I’ll even prepare some raw persimmon fruit for your breakfast. As many as you want."

Before the old man could celebrate his upcoming feast, the training room doors slid open. A group of young people walked in, arms full of gear. The moment their eyes fell on Zyra, they instantly straightened up, pressed their hands together, and gave a deep, crisp bow.

"Good morning, Divine Maiden!" they chanted in unison before scurrying off toward the weight arrays.

The Grand Elder froze mid-step, his left foot hovering an inch off the ground. He turned his head so fast his neck made a faint popping sound. He stared at the retreating group then turned back to Zyra with a look that plainly said: What on earth did they just call you?

Zyra rubbed the back of her neck, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Ah. That. They call me that because_ well, I gave them shelter here."

The Grand Elder squinted, completely unconvincing. "And?"

"And.." Zyra swallowed, looking up at the ceiling. "I might have demonstrated the ability to bond with more than two half-life beasts."

The Grand Elder pulled his head back so far, he developed a double chin. His face hardened into pure, unadulterated skepticism. "Child. I am old, but I am not senile. Bonding with multiple half-life beasts? That is literally impossible. You would die! Your head would explode like an overripe melon! Your bloodline is dormant."

"It really isn’t impossible, Grand Elder, I am a special case." Zyra said gently.

"Wait, " The old man huffed, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest. "’Grand Elder? Is that what we’re doing now? Calling me like I’m some random old stranger on the street?"

Zyra blinked, caught off guard. "Uh_"

"I am your grandfather-in-law!" he snapped, though his eyes were soft. "It is entirely unfair for you to use formal titles with me."

Zyra offered a small, shy smile, not quite knowing how to respond. The marriage was not legal, technically, she was not his granddaughter-in-law.

The Grand Elder softened his tone, his posture relaxing as he looked down at her. "I knew you way before you were even old enough to walk, little girl. You probably don’t remember because you were so tiny, but I used to spoil you rotten behind your parents’ backs." He let out a soft sigh, his gaze turning distant for a fraction of a second. "Even if you hadn’t married Hunter, you would still be my family. Because Zena was my family."

The room was quiet for a moment.

Zyra felt a sudden, sharp prickle behind her eyes. Her throat tightened up so fast she couldn’t swallow. She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late, two heavy tears forced their way past her lashes and spilled down her cheeks. It had been so long. So terribly long since anyone had looked at her and simply claimed her as family without demands and expectations. The warmth of it bloomed in her chest, heavy and aching and beautiful.

The Grand Elder stepped forward and pulled her into a warm, firm hug. He patted her back with a heavy, steady hand.

"It has been a hard journey, hasn’t it? I am sorry," he murmured softly into her hair. "I’m sorry I couldn’t reach out to you earlier, child. But back then, all I could do was love you and protect you from a distance. If I had officially adopted you two, it would have just drawn the eyes of dangerous people. It would have made you bigger targets."

Zyra buried her face into his shirt. She let out a small, trembling sob, crying briefly against his chest_ releasing months of quiet, lonely weight she hadn’t realized she was carrying.

When she finally pulled back, sniffing slightly, the Grand Elder reached up and gently wiped the wet tracks from her cheeks using his rough thumb. He could only wonder what she had been through to be in such a state.