Re-Awakened: Tyrant Lord Wants A Good Life!

When Noyan found himself ensnared in a life-and-death crisis across the river, Lady Naran's demeanor underwent a chilling transformation. She radiated a cold, oppressive aura, as if she were confronting an ancient foe. The sun had risen, banishing the night's darkness, but the mist lingered, not fully dispersed, as if clinging to the secrets of the night.

In this atmospheric ambiguity, Lady Naran stood solitary, her beauty echoing that of a celestial fairy. With her fists clenched behind her back, her face was an unreadable canvas, her eyes sharp, scanning the remnants of the night.

After Noyan had ventured beyond the river, Lady Naran's expression darkened, her senses alerting her to an unseen presence lurking nearby. She was oblivious to who this might be, spying on her from the shadows, and while fear did not grip her, her nerves were stretched to their limits, her mind racing with the possibilities of danger.

Lady Naran was on high alert, her instincts screaming caution. She did not know the intentions of this watcher, the shocking fact was that she had only detected this individual because they were momentarily distracted by the sight of Greenglow, something that would disarm anyone. This insight made it clear; the person spying on her was no ordinary adversary but one of formidable skill, necessitating she keep her guard up.

Amidst her vigilance, Lady Naran began to strategize her next moves. The Ulaan Tribe had enemies aplenty, and she couldn't discern if this was an assassin sent by one of their many adversaries or something else entirely. It wouldn't have been surprising if some warlord, envying her famed beauty in the Sumerû Plains, sought to capture her.

Raising her eyebrows in a mix of defiance and readiness, Lady Naran unsheathed her dagger. Once, she had been a helpless child, but those days were long behind her. Now, she was a force to be reckoned with.

With no response from the shadows, impatience began to seep into Lady Naran's demeanor.

Suddenly, a smile graced her lips, a facade of friendliness, "Friend, why hide? There's no point in this game now, is there? Have you come to claim my life? Now that I've discovered you, why not make your move while my protector is away?"

A moment of silence followed her words, but there was no sign of acknowledgment. Her alarm intensified, yet her smile persisted, growing even more inviting, a calculated warmth.

"You know, it's rather impolite to keep a lady waiting. Why not step out so we can converse like civilized beings? My bodyguard might return at any moment." Her voice was calm, yet beneath it, there was a steely edge as she played with her hair, an act of feigned nonchalance.

The strategy was clear; she wanted to lure the person out. This was called "Acting a Pig to catch the Tiger" In the Art of War.

The dagger in her hand might as well be invisible to a formidable warrior, however, it was only natural that she would atleast try with it anyways.

And yet, there was no sense of lethal intent emanating from the shadows, which only added to her confusion. If not here to kill or to speak, what was their aim? Could she be misreading the situation entirely?

Silence stretched between them until the morning light began to chase away the mist, the world around them coming to life with the dawn's promise.

Then, perhaps driven by the fear of Noyan's return, the hidden figure chose to reveal themselves. The foliage rustled with the wind, and before Lady Naran, a silhouette began to take form amidst the dense greenery.

Though she had faced countless dangers, Lady Naran felt an inexplicable unease, her heart clenching with a foreboding sense of recognition. As she watched, holding her breath, the figure called out in a voice thick with emotion, "Lilia..."

The mention of that name at such an unexpected moment left Lady Naran breathless, her body trembling with shock. Her pupils dilated into points of astonishment, unable to voice the tumult within her. She stood in a strange daze, old memories flooding back like a relentless tide, each one laced with pain and regret.

Blond, flowing hair, a face carved with handsome precision, and eyes that held the weight of time and nostalgia—this was the man who now stood before her. "Lilia... It's me... Do you... Do you remember me still?" His voice trembled with a mixture of joy and sorrow.

Lady Naran closed her eyes, recognition dawning upon her. Of course, she knew him; how could she forget?

A wave of inferiority washed over her, realizing he might be aware of her current life, stirring the bitter dregs of her past she had tried so hard to bury. "Why? Why are you here, Ronan?" she asked, her voice cold but eyes sinking in fatigue.

Like a ghost from the past, this person stood before her. But hadn't he come too late? Naran couldn't help but think. "Fifteen Years, I thought I had been forgotten forever. In those tough times when I wanted someone, anyone, to come to my rescue but no one came. And now... Why did you come to reopen those wounds?"

Ronan seemed oblivious to the frost in her voice, his own eyes brimming with tears. "Lilia... My love... Do you know? I've been searching... Searching for you for the last fifteen years! I finally found you..."

Lady Naran did not respond. Her expression as cold as ice, seemingly having moved past the initial shock.

"Lilia... How have you been?" Ronan asked, his voice breaking through his happiness.

Her reaction was one of delay, but then a surge of anger ignited in her eyes. The dam that had held back her emotions shattered,

"Ronan Ashford! How dare you! How dare you ask me this? Where were you when I was being hunted like a dog? Why... Why did you only come now?" Her fists clenched, tears streamed down her cheeks. For fifteen years, her heart had been like an ancient, bottomless well, not producing a single ripple.

But after seeing this person again so unexpectedly, and reliving those painful events once again made her mask fall off completely.

No one who had ever encountered Lady Naran in the Great Sumerû Plains could ever imagine her this way. For many, she was an object of reverence. Some even feared her while some admired her greatly. But everyone was certain that the person known as The Mirage of Gabi was a cold, heartless and ruthless woman. Like a beautiful flower with poisonous thorns.

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