The carriage Anne rode had a whimsical name—Miss Pumpkin!
Pulling the carriage was a rare magical beast called the "Unicorn Deer." This magical creature was tall, with endurance rivaling that of any horse. In terms of carriage-pulling, aside from its grand and striking appearance, glossy coat, and the aesthetic appeal of its antlers, it held no particular advantage. However, the Unicorn Deer was a lightning-attribute magical beast by nature. When sensing danger, it would unleash a thunderous electric net to protect itself and the carriage it was pulling, making it highly favored by the nobility of the Old Continent.
The Unicorn Deer, however, allowed only pure maidens to approach. Thus, using the Unicorn Deer as carriage-pullers was often a symbolic declaration of a young lady's purity.
Anne kept four Unicorn Deer for her carriage, and their favorite food was—pumpkins.
Thus, the carriage earned its nickname, Miss Pumpkin.
It had nothing to do with the shape of the carriage.
This carriage was crafted by the Stellar Workshop, a genuine high-tier extraordinary artifact. Though not necessarily more luxurious than the "Dark Luxury," it was brand new, and Anne was its first owner—unlike the Dark Luxury, which had passed through countless hands.
Driving the carriage was a maid dressed in a maple leaf-patterned gown. From a distance, she nodded courteously in greeting toward Charlot, indicating that she had at least heard of him. Her demeanor carried a subtle warmth.
Anne and Grandma Saint Karen had already alighted from the carriage.
In Charlot’s memory, this was the first time Anne appeared in such formal attire. When she saw Charlot, she blinked mischievously, offering a playful smile without speaking. Grandma Saint Karen, however, smiled and said, "The Earl has sent me along with fifty knights. Mr. Mecklenburg, you may rest assured!"
Charlot murmured softly, "I heard that Byron sent their agents as well. I’m worried they might go to extreme lengths to assassinate our Farsian envoys..."
As Anne stepped out of the carriage, the convoy of the Bretagne family came to a halt. Several knights who were clearly not members of the Bretagne family followed closely behind. One of them overheard Charlot's remark and scoffed derisively. "This envoy group includes three Saint ranks: Her Royal Highness, High Priest Auguslatin, and Grandma Saint Karen. What use is your worry? Did you perhaps bring a Saint rank to assist us?"
After sneering at Charlot, the young knight turned to Anne and said, "Miss Bretagne, please trust that I can ensure your safety."
Charlot couldn’t hold back and blurted, "Old Goat, take care of it!"
What he thought but refrained from saying aloud was: Who the hell are you to flirt with my girl?
This young knight clearly harbored feelings for Anne. Or perhaps it wasn’t feelings—he might simply be throwing the proverbial dart in hopes of hitting the target. Either way, Charlot couldn’t stand it. If he did, he wouldn’t be Charlot Mecklenburg.
Herolf, the Golden Goat, said nothing. With a calm demeanor, he raised two fingers, unleashing a torrent of Oceanic combat energy that transformed into a surging, murky wave, swallowing the knights entirely.
Herolf’s strength was not to be underestimated.
He had once gone toe-to-toe with the young Zimourman Axel Robin. Even when surrounded by Menielman Soumet, Tumisan, and Sabastine aboard the Queen Bee, he remained undaunted. To him, an ordinary extraordinary knight wasn’t worth a serious move. His combat energy alone sent the knights flying.
With a hint of pride, Herolf retracted his two fingers. This gesture, which he had seen Charlot use before, did nothing to enhance the power of his attack but carried an inexplicable flair. As expected, this small demonstration of skill was dazzlingly impressive.
Seeing Herolf mimic his signature gesture, Charlot couldn’t help but think of Vegeta. In truth, the Golden Goat’s haughty demeanor did resemble the proud prince—though his appearance was more akin to Piccolo.
The knights scrambled to their feet, recognizing the Golden Goat Herolf as a Saint rank and refraining from further provocations. The young knight who had spoken earlier avoided even glancing at Charlot as he circled around Herolf and said to Anne, "Miss Bretagne, I shall visit you tonight..."
Fury surged through Charlot. You’ll visit her tonight?
Not if I make sure you don’t live to see tonight.
Grandma Saint Karen spoke softly, "This is Sir Rembrandt Mossred, a young man from the Mossred ducal family, an officer in the Royal Knights, now twenty-eight years old and a third-rank extraordinary. He could be considered accomplished for his age."
"He’s been visiting Anne daily these past few days, but I’ve turned him away each time," the old nanny added, deliberately providing Charlot with detailed information about Rembrandt’s identity, rank, background, and persistence in courting Anne.
Indeed, Grandma Saint Karen was fanning the flames.
Having spent enough time around Charlot, she understood his temperament.
The old nanny believed that making Charlot a little jealous would help increase her young mistress’s competitiveness.
Charlot couldn’t help but ask, "Does he not know that Anne’s heart already belongs to someone else?"
Grandma Saint Karen smiled lightly, throwing yet more fuel onto the fire. "Why would a young man from the Mossred ducal family care about a mere twenty-fourth-rank official..."
Anne gently interjected, "Mr. Mecklenburg is already a twenty-third-rank, second-grade councilor."
Grandma Saint Karen shrugged dramatically, igniting the blaze further. "He doesn’t even hold earls in high regard."
Anne whispered, "Mr. Mecklenburg, Grandma Saint Karen just enjoys seeing people flustered. Please don’t take it too seriously."
"Tonight, I’ll make sure she has a good dream," Anne added softly.
Given that they were still by the roadside amidst the envoy convoy, Anne refrained from saying anything overly affectionate. However, her promise of a "good dream" clearly implied a plan to meet in the dreamscape that evening.
Charlot nodded, reassured. With three Saint ranks in tow, he returned to his Dark Luxury. Having traveled all the way from the Red Dragon Strait to be at Anne’s side, he suddenly felt a great sense of relief.
Charlot was no longer the same person who had first transmigrated. Now a fifteenth-rank high extraordinary, possessing over ten abilities and three Saint ranks under his command, he was virtually fearless unless facing enemies like Viscount Constantine or the Lionheart King Amisfida.
Though Rembrandt came from the Mossred family, Charlot had no reason to fear him.
That night, as Charlot rested in the carriage, a strange drowsiness overtook him. Feeling an unusual sensation, he quickly instructed, "Don’t shatter Grandma Saint Karen’s dreamscape," before finding himself in a vast grassland filled with blooming flowers. The fresh scent of grass permeated the air, soothing his mind.
Without Charlot’s warning, the dreamscape would surely have been shattered by the combined efforts of the Black Dragon, Herolf, and Choudrou. A Saint rank’s dreamscape could not contain another Saint rank for long.
Anne descended from the sky and leapt into Charlot’s arms.
Nearby, Grandma Saint Karen had already set up a picnic. There were several food containers, fruits, tea, and a blanket, creating a tranquil scene.
The old nanny smiled faintly at Charlot and gestured toward a distant spot.
There, seven or eight young men were carousing and drinking. Despite their loud and unruly behavior, they seemed unaware of Charlot’s group. Among them was a face Charlot recognized—Rembrandt Mossred. Grandma Saint Karen had brought them into the dreamscape as well.