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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Nini's Business Declaration
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Kaleo’s explanation had Nibelria nodding her head again.
“Zheng-dang-seong!”
“Legitimacy.”
“Legitimacy!”
“……”
A short distance away, Dether watched the tender father-daughter moment with a warm smile but briefly wondered, ‘Is it really okay for her to learn such an important concept like that?’
But in the end, the fact that she was learning something was what mattered, so Dether decided to let it slide.
“Legitimacy means a reason that makes it okay to hit someone.”
“It’s not just for hitting.”
Solles added a bit more knowledge for his little sister, who’d picked up something new again.
“Some actions need a reason, right? If a lot of people acknowledge that reason, it becomes legitimacy.”
“For example?”
“For example, um…”
Solles pondered for a moment and glanced out the window.
“Fall’s coming soon, right? It’ll get a bit chilly then.”
“Chilly means cold. Winter’s coming.”
“Exactly. That’s why we buy warm clothes when it gets too cold.”
What do you think about buying clothes because it’s too cold?
Nibelria answered Solles’s question right away.
“Nini likes it. Cold is hard, so we gotta wear warm stuff.”
“Yeah. That’s legitimacy right there.”
“Ooh.”
And just like that, Nibelria’s knowledge grew a little more.
Grinning wide, she scooted right up next to Solles and poked her head into the crook of his arm as he read his book.
Disrupting his reading like that, she then plopped boldly onto his lap.
“Oppa’s so smart!”
She beamed up at Solles.
“Love Oppa!”
Solles smiled back.
“I love Nini too. But I heard you fought with a friend at kindergarten today?”
“Not a friend. And Nini won!”
Proudly, Nibelria showed off her chubby little fist.
Solles knew full well that a hit from it would sting pretty good.
Nibelria rarely lost control of her temper, but when she did get upset, she’d swing her hand wildly.
Even a graze from it left a sting for days.
Once, when he’d playfully startled her as a joke, she’d punched him in the gut, and he’d had a bruise for a whole week.
“Miss.”
Just then, Arep returned from his sword training.
“Arep!”
Nibelria hopped off Solles’s lap and toddled over to him.
“Nini’s the busiest one.”
Though he felt a twinge of jealousy at how readily she ditched him, Solles set his book aside and joined them.
Arep must have washed up—his hair ends were still damp. Up close, a pleasant soap scent wafted from him.
Nibelria sniffed the air and grinned.
“Arep, all done? Wanna play now?”
“Yeah. But are you okay, Miss?”
“Why?”
“Well, today…”
Arep had been shocked to hear she’d gotten into a fight.
‘I couldn’t protect her again…’
If he’d been there, he would’ve jumped in all cool and heroic.
Now he could swing a wooden sword fifty times without stopping. Grandpa Ardores had even praised his form.
“…Miss.”
Arep fidgeted with the hem of his clothes, mumbling.
“I-I’m your subordinate, right?”
“Yup!”
“So, I mean, uh…”
I’ll definitely protect you next time.
Call me if anything happens.
I’m your subordinate, after all.
And we’re…
“……”
Just thinking about how they were friends who liked each other turned Arep’s face, ears, and neck bright red—like his own crimson eyes.
“…Hurting?”
Nibelria waved her hand in front of the silent Arep’s face.
“Oppa, is Arep sick?”
“Hm.”
Solles, who’d been watching quietly, shrugged.
“Dunno. Doesn’t look like it hurts.”
“……”
“Ow!”
Not liking her brother’s sly smile, Nibelria smacked his forearm.
Her hand stung, as expected.
The kindergarten commotion ended without further incident.
“…You want me to arrange a mage?”
Or so they thought.
An unexpected issue popped up from an unforeseen source.
“You’re saying she really put in that request?”
“Yes, here’s the letter.”
Della, usually in her cleaning attire, was dressed in a suit for once.
A sleek pantsuit, like what knighted women wore.
“Where’ve you been, anyway?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Just some professional curiosity from an info broker’s employee.”
“Nice excuse and try.”
Della adjusted her glasses, her brown hair—streaked with gray—tied back low.
The letter from Delrak requested exactly what he’d described: an introduction to a mage.
It even named a specific one.
The sender was Rima, the seven-year-old girl the info brokers had been closely watching lately.
Della murmured the mage’s name from the letter.
“Inerka…”
“Inerka’s pretty well-known even in the Magic Tower, right?”
Della nodded at Delrak’s words.
“One of the rare bloodlines where three generations are all mages.”
In mage society, where talent was chosen—not inherited—such families were exceedingly rare.
The Inerka family was one of them.
“……”
Behind her thick glasses, Della’s green eyes gleamed sharply.
‘I really don’t get it.’
How did she find this out?
The Inerka mage family wasn’t top secret, but it wasn’t public knowledge either.
The Magic Tower was a closed-off group. As the only society and organization protecting mages, they guarded their information fiercely.
In other words, a seven-year-old orphan shouldn’t know this.
Couldn’t know it.
‘Starting to get a little scary now.’
She’d thought the scariest thing in her life happened forty years ago, but apparently more was in store.
‘…No, Muniel’s still scarier.’
That saintess back then, whew.
Shaking off the resurfacing memory, Della flicked her head.
“Delrak, for now—”
“Isn’t it amazing?”
Della’s instructions to proceed froze on her lips.
She stared in disbelief at the handsome young employee in front of her—Delrak, playing at being the info broker’s owner.
He gushed over Rima with an excited expression.
“How did that kid get her hands on info like that? What else does she know? I’m dying to find out.”
“Delrak?”
“Ah, what a tantalizing talent! Too good to leave moldering in the duke’s estate. Maybe our info brokers should offer her a bit more protection—”
“Delrak!”
Della called out sharply.
Only after her ear-splitting shout did Delrak’s dazed eyes snap back to life.
But they flickered unsteadily, like a candle in the wind.
“Wh-what did I just say…?”
“Delrak. Come here.”
Della pulled a small pouch from her drawer and took out a single candy.
“Eat this.”
Unwrapping it revealed a dark lump of honey.
“Right here in front of me.”
“Pardon?”
“Now!”
At her urging, Delrak fumbled the honey lump into his mouth.
He winced at the initial bitterness, but as the subtle honey sweetness spread, his furrowed brow relaxed.
Chewing the deep-red fruit at the center made him squint at the tartness.
Della watched the whole time.
“…What did I say earlier? That the kid was tempting? From my own mouth?”
Recalling his words, Delrak recoiled in horror.
Only then did Della relax a little.
But she too shuddered, gripped by a sharper fear than before.
‘This…’
Wasn’t something to take lightly.
She’d braced herself when the Great Witch warned her in her tent, but this solidified it.
‘Maybe… she’s not even human.’
Muniel hadn’t described Rima in any particular way.
But from this moment on, Della knew she couldn’t regard the girl with ease anymore.
Not even pretend to.
The fear she felt now was just like those days fighting magical beasts forty years ago.
Rima, her pink hair neatly braided into two pigtails, hummed a little tune.
‘They’re moving just as I directed.’
She dipped the cookies the maids brought into milk and skimmed the report the info brokers sent via letter.
Everything was perfect.
Landowner Petra had gone into debt to invest in Prok Kingdom’s magic stone mines.
Thanks to the broker the info brokers introduced, who’d convinced him well.
‘Only downside is Lubeo didn’t follow suit.’
She’d even manipulated public opinion through newspapers to make it irresistible.
But it was fine.
This Prok Kingdom magic stone mine investment was a scam Rima had cooked up.
The mining was real enough. But Petra’s investment funds would flow straight to Rima’s anonymous account.
Once laundered clean, she’d set up her own merchant company.
She’d even picked a name.
“Meow Merchant Company.”
Rima said it aloud with relish.
“The novel will go back to how it was. No changes allowed. Not without permission from me, the ‘author.’”
Her desperate mutterings went on for quite a while.
No one said a word to Rima.
Yet she kept glancing around nervously, as if chased by something, whispering, “I’ll set it right again.”
“I’m the protagonist. This miracle’s mine…!”
Her reflection stared back from the mirror.
A strikingly pretty seven-year-old girl with pink hair.
“Announcement! Big announcement!”
Nibelria declared gravely.
“Nini’s gonna do business!”
