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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Be Careful
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Near the capital’s central plaza was a famous teahouse.
It was a three-story building, with each floor boasting a different interior concept, serving teas to match, and was rumored to have delicious desserts.
But that alone wasn't why it was famous among the nobles. The real reason for its fame was something else entirely: the gambling den in the basement.
Though the sun had not yet set, the gambling den was already filled with a clamor of voices. In one corner, a table was set for blackjack; in another, dice were being rolled; and in yet another, there was even a roulette machine made from a magical device.
The patrons were a diverse crowd. If one had to categorize them, you could say it was half nobles, men and women alike, and half wealthy magnates.
True to its name as a gambling den, there were some who were addicted, staring at their cards every minute of every second, but most were chatting while enjoying a light game.
In other words, this place was both a gambling den and an exchange for information.
Everyone here was mad for information. They were the kind of people who had to know one more thing than others, who couldn't stand not knowing something everyone else did. In a way, they were afflicted with an addiction far worse than gambling.
And the topic that currently held the largest share of their conversations was, of course, the recent “attempted theft of the Archducal House’s sacred relic.”
“So, has the Archducal House found out who the culprits are?”
“Well, I heard they’re keeping their mouths shut even under torture. They say they won’t even flinch when their fingernails are pulled out or their flesh is seared. I can’t imagine how such a tough bunch was assembled.”
“The Archduke must be quite furious. To not know the identity of those who tried to steal a sacred relic, of all things.”
What was a sacred relic?
It was a holy object graciously gifted to humans by the dragons, who were born from the fragments left behind when the primordial god vanished after creating the world.
These sacred relics were passed down through the generations in each country's imperial family or in houses that had achieved great deeds. The Archducal House of Akion had nearly been robbed of such an item.
“My, this is the first time a group has targeted a sacred relic. Aren't they afraid of divine punishment?”
A noble lady said, fluttering her fan.
“More importantly, I heard there was someone else who subdued the band of thieves that tried to steal the relic?”
Before the question was even finished, the eyes of everyone gathered lit up, and those nearby began to inch closer.
It was obvious that a story even more interesting than the “attempted theft of the Archducal House’s sacred relic” was about to unfold.
“Ho ho. It seems the rumor has already spread.”
Edhert, the master of the Golden Chalice Guild, who had been silent until now, stroked his beard and chuckled.
“My, my, I told everyone to keep it quiet. I wonder where it leaked from.”
“Oh, don't be like that, please tell us! There’s a limit to what you can hear from informants. I want to hear the story firsthand. Please?”
Edhert just grinned in response. At that moment, a young man standing beside him poured a drink into Edhert’s glass.
“Have a drink. This is a 30-year-old Holy Grace.”
He wore a hood that obscured his face, but the strands of hair that peeked out were rather unusual.
They were a mix of black and white, and very long.
*Who is this?* Edhert paused for a moment, but then, aware of the many eyes watching him, he quickly raised his glass.
“Such a precious drink! Thank you.”
After gulping down the liquor, Edhert cleared his throat and began to speak.
“There were no problems until we reached the Akion territory. With only the mountain path left before the castle, we were rushing onward without rest, saying, ‘Let’s hurry.’ What’s more, there were twenty men escorting the carriage. All of them were mercenaries from the Onhol Mercenary Corps.”
“The Onhol Mercenary Corps!”
It was a mercenary group centered around Onhol, a warrior who was near the level of a Sword Master. The organization was composed of individuals skilled enough to be entrusted with the clandestine protection of a prince.
“But they were taken down in an instant. By thieves who appeared out of nowhere. There were just over ten of them, yet they defeated us in a flash.”
“Good heavens. That means they were incredibly strong.”
“Indeed. So I thought I was done for. But as much as my life mattered, the thought of protecting the sacred relic was stronger. So I was shouting for a guild member to take the relic and flee. But just then!”
“Then?”
“A young child appeared.”
Edhert spread his hands wide as he continued.
“At first, I thought she was lost or had run away from home… but she charged straight at the thieves with pinpoint accuracy and started beating them down. With her wooden sword, *whack! whack!* With such delightful spirit, *whack! whack!*”
Recalling that moment still felt so satisfying.
The looks on the thieves’ faces as they were sent tumbling by a wooden sword were quite a sight to behold.
Edhert chuckled.
“Excuse me, but didn’t you just say that even the mercenaries from the Onhol Mercenary Corps were defeated?”
“Yes. That’s why it’s even harder to believe! At first, I thought I was seeing things! But I wasn’t! To think she pummeled over ten thieves with just a small wooden sword…! This is all true! I swear it on my name, no, on my guild!”
With him going this far, it was impossible not to believe him. If such a detailed account were a lie, then Guild Master Edhert must have mastered the magic of spinning tales.
*Gulp.*
Unconsciously, the people swallowed dryly and exchanged glances.
“So, that child was…”
“Yes. It was her.”
Edhert raised his glass and shouted loudly.
“Lady Daphne Akion! She was the one who saved me!”
He quickly added, addressing the murmuring crowd.
“But that’s not the end of it. As you all know, Lady Daphne is frail, is she not?”
“Yes, that’s right. I heard she was on the verge of death not long ago.”
“Does that mean she has recovered her health?”
“That’s what I thought as well, but…”
Edhert deliberately put on a bitter expression.
“It seems not. As soon as the situation was resolved, she coughed up blood and fainted. The elven doctor who came with her said she had likely overexerted herself.”
“You mean she went out to save the merchant group despite being ill?”
“Yes, that’s exactly it.”
The murmuring grew louder.
Whispers like, ‘That little hellion?’, ‘Are you sure you didn’t get it wrong?’, and ‘What kind of fool would impersonate someone from the Archducal House of Akion?’ spread through the crowd.
Eventually, it all converged into a single opinion.
“How truly curious.”
“Yes. I’m curious. How that little hellion has changed, and if she has, what the reason is…!”
“And how she was able to move like that when she’s so ill!”
It was rare for Daphne Akion, the one even the Archducal House had given up on, to become the center of attention. All the more reason to find out, wasn't it? The eyes of everyone gathered sparkled.
Just then, the man who had poured Edhert a drink quietly slipped away and left the basement.
No one noticed his disappearance, and no one found out who he was.
After leaving the gambling den, the man took off his hood. As he did, long hair that reached his waist cascaded down softly.
Black from the crown to his shoulders, then turning white below, his hair was peculiar and beautiful enough to catch the eye even from a distance.
“You truly never cease to amaze me.”
The man muttered, leaving the furtive glances that fell upon him behind.
“Lady Seluseu.”
***
Ugh, I’m dying.
Even though the sun was high in the sky, Daphne, still lying in bed, sighed as she thumped her shoulders and arms with her fists.
After taking the medicine and swinging the wooden sword a few days ago, Daphne had been suffering from terrible aftereffects.
Namely, muscle soreness.
Her entire body ached so much that she didn't even have the strength to lift a finger, forcing her to remain in bed the whole time.
*I need to train.*
Her sense of touch when she beat down the thieves hadn't been bad.
This meant that even if her body was in this sorry state, her mind remembered swordsmanship, so she could still move.
If only she had the stamina, all her plans would come to fruition.
*Even one day sooner…!*
I need to get stronger and beat that Hero to a pulp.
Muttering to herself, Daphne tried her best to ignore the White Lion’s Lantern that came into her view.
Then, she unwittingly recalled the day the Hero, Heros, had visited.
—*Since you retrieved what was meant for you, I suppose I don't need to thank you for your trouble. No need to see me out. Rest.*
In other words, this White Lion’s Lantern was a gift for Daphne. She didn't know much, but a sacred relic seemed to be a pretty big deal. To give something like this as a gift…
*What's he plotting?*
He wouldn't be giving it to me just because I'm pretty, so there must be some other meaning behind it.
“Hmm.”
Daphne pouted her lips for a moment before deciding, *to hell with it,* and stopped thinking.
“I know less about this body than I thought.”
Other than her name, age, the fact that she was cursed with a terminal illness, and that she was so weak she could drop dead at any moment, she knew nothing.
“I need to find out somehow, but dere’s no good way to do it.”
She couldn't expect to learn anything from that idiot Arius. Wasn't his head just full of flowers? She might just die of frustration trying to get an answer out of him.
So, she had to get information from someone other than Arius…
*Who could there be?*
As she was thinking that she should look into it soon, Daphne turned her head toward the door as it burst open.
“My Lady! My Lady!”
It was Ann, who had left earlier, saying she was going to see the butler. She rushed in excitedly, a pink letter in her hand.
Ann handled it as if it were a precious treasure, carefully presenting it to Daphne.
“Here, an invitation to a ball has arrived! From the House of Marquis Finch! Quick! Open it, quick!”
Daphne tilted her head. She didn't quite understand Ann's excitement.
“A ball? What’s so great about dat, dat you’re makin’ such a fuss?”
“What?!”
This time, it was Ann who couldn't understand Daphne.
“You can’t say that! It is a big deal! This is the first invitation you’ve received in half a year!”
“Half a year?”
“Yes. You flipped over the table at the tea party hosted by the House of Count Adel last year, remember? You hit more than ten children then, didn't you? Young Lord Adel even had his nose broken. The Master had to make a public apology because of it. Phew, just thinking about it still makes my knees weak. Anyway, after that, invitations completely dried up… Oh, what’s wrong?”
What do you think is wrong?
Disposition: [Ruffian][Hellion][Imp][Brat]
Disposition: [Ruffian][Hellion][Imp][Brat]
I’m just realizing all over again what a rotten temperament this is.
I really have a long way to go.
