Chapter 28
“That was way too close.”
The fourth night.
Charlotte beamed as she finally got her hands on the duke’s slush fund.
For her, the past four nights had been nothing short of hell.
She already knew everything — which bank held the duke’s hidden funds, which vault, even the password.
After all, in her previous life, she had once worked with Adrian to expose the noble faction’s secret funds.
But the key problem was that she couldn’t just stroll in and take the money in broad daylight.
So, she had to sneak in during the evening. And of course, a vault holding noble black funds had tight security.
To prepare for this, Charlotte had been storing dismantling spells one by one in advance. But when she finally faced the vault, she was just one formula short.
And it had to be a 6th-class dismantling spell!
“I spent three entire nights drawing that one formula just to cast that spell.”
She even coughed up so much blood that she thought she might become a mummy at this rate.
This body was even frailer than Charlotte’s original one. And she hadn’t used magic in ages.
Still, she forcefully injected magic into her body using mana stones and overexerted herself. It was a miracle she didn’t die of heart failure right then and there.
Charlotte wiped the blood dripping from her nose and cast the spell.
Unlike with most mages, there was no flashy effect. That would’ve drawn attention — and that was the last thing she wanted.
Charlotte cloaked herself with invisibility and nullification spells and made her way to the duke’s vault.
And in one go—
“Manifest.”
She unleashed all the spells she had stored.
Even the sound of the vault opening was muted with a silence spell.
But inside Charlotte’s head, it was louder than ever.
“Urgh…!”
Massive amounts of mana were draining out of her to maintain the spell. She quickly pulled out a mana stone from her subspace pouch, crushed it, and absorbed it. But the outflow was even faster.
“Please, please…”
She couldn’t fail here! Swallowing down the blood rising in her throat, she forced the mana to circulate through her body, trying to absorb every bit of the mana stone’s energy.
After what felt like hours—but was really just seconds—
The massive vault door silently creaked open, as if answering her desperate prayers.
Late at night. Gudmund, a mercenary guild in the trade city of Hall.
Despite being one of the most successful mercenary guilds in the western region, the guild master Rhiannon was sighing heavily as she downed her drinks.
And the one causing her so much grief lately was—
“This damned Grand Duke son of a…!”
None other than Noctem Aphros. Even as she hiccuped, she brought the wine bottle back to her lips.
“Hic, that crazy Swordmaster… do you hic know how much gold the northern region was worth, and now you—blocked all the gates? Huh?! Who the hell do you think you are?!”
Pfft. Who is he? Just someone absurdly powerful…
One moment furious, the next she giggled drunkenly, mumbling to herself.
But that didn’t last long. Soon, she was sobbing and slamming the table.
“If you block all the gates where the monsters come out—then how the hell are we supposed to get the byproducts?! What are mercenaries supposed to live off of, huh?! What about the guild?! What about meeee?!”
Yes. The empire’s oh-so-great Grand Duke, Noctem Aphros, had wiped out all monsters for the first time in ten years.
He destroyed every gate that endlessly spawned monsters using his insane swordsmanship.
“Waaah! Do you know how important monsters are to mercenaries?! The byproducts may look useless, but the hides—ugh, the hides are so valuable! Waaah! I’m ruined…”
There were no more monsters in the empire now. The only option left was to go international.
If not, her mercenary guild would be reduced to doing petty jobs for merchants and nobles.
“Money. I need money…”
To go abroad, she’d need land. And to buy land, she needed money. Lots of it.
But Rhiannon didn’t have nearly enough to buy land in a foreign country. Unless a prince on a white horse showed up, that is.
Creak—
“…Are we open for business?”
Just then, a figure appeared who might as well have been that prince on a white horse—or rather, a princess in a robe.
Though whether it was a princess or prince was unclear—their voice was so androgynous.
At first, Rhiannon waved the robed figure away with a lazy hand. Her intent was clear: we’re closed, so get lost.
But Rhiannon had spent her whole life in the mercenary guild, since before she even formed a sense of self. She may have been drunk enough that even her subordinates wouldn’t recognize her—but she could recognize a powerful mage in an instant.
And along with that power, she smelled something else.
The thick scent… of money.
Here is the full English translation of the continuation from the previous part:
“Welcome! Oh, what does it matter if it’s late at night? I’m the guild master — if there’s a client, then that’s business hours, of course!”
Rhiannon sprang up and led the robed figure to a clean table. Her own seat was littered with empty bottles, after all.
Her face, flushed not from alcohol but from anticipation, faced the robed person.
Though it was late at night, the moonlight streamed in just enough to brighten the room.
Rhiannon took note of the hair peeking out from under the robe — a deep black, reminiscent of night itself.
“Haha, so what brings you here? Judging by the look of it, you’re here with a request, aren’t you?”
“I’d like it handled discreetly. Can you do that?”
“Well, that depends on what the task is.”
Damn. Maybe it wasn’t the smell of money after all, but the scent of death.
Rhiannon clicked her tongue inwardly. Nothing was going her way tonight.
She silently cursed Noctem, blaming him for all of it. But her face remained calm as ever.
The robed figure was silent for a moment, then reached into their sleeve — and pulled out a pile of gold coins.
“Huh…”
Still grumbling in her head, Rhiannon couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the sight.
Even the coins themselves were top quality. They gleamed so brightly, they lit up the entire first-floor desk.
“I want it done discreetly. Is that possible?”
“Yes, yes… absolutely possible…”
With that much gold, what isn’t possible?
Rhiannon, eyes blinded by money, nodded fervently. It was both her greatest weakness and the reason her life expectancy might be shortened — but this time, it was different.
This time, she had accepted a request that was entirely legitimate, peaceful, and easy.
“I didn’t want to go door to door. This works out well.”
“Haha! You’ve come to the right place! No need to go wandering around!”
Of course, she didn’t say aloud that she’d answered without thinking just because of the money.
The robed figure stared at her for a moment, then once again reached into their sleeve. This time, they pulled out a pouch filled with gold coins.
“It’s simple. Just donate this money to every orphanage and poor relief center across the continent.”
“…Excuse me?”
What was that now? Rhiannon blinked in confusion.
‘No way. I must’ve misheard.’
“I want it all done anonymously. I don’t want anyone to know your guild had anything to do with it.”
“Well… that’s possible, but… is that really the request?”
She had been preparing herself for something like an assassination, but this?
‘It’s obviously a good deed… so why does it feel unsettling—’
“Yes. The commission fee is 13%. How about it?”
“Th-thirteen…?”
The usual commission was 8%, 10% at most!
“Yes! Absolutely! Leave it to the Gudmund Guild!”
Forget unsettling feelings — this was a must-take! Overseas expansion, here we come!
Rhiannon shouted with eyes blazing with ambition.
The robed figure calmly watched her, then left behind the message that money would be sent at the start of every month directly to the guild master — and vanished without a trace.
Only after they were gone did the alcohol finally leave Rhiannon’s system, and a flicker of regret crept in — but she shook her head as she looked at the pile of gold on the desk.
“I’m rich now…”
Whether the Grand Duke destroyed all the gates or not — who cares?
She let out a laugh even more crazed than when she’d been drunk.
Meanwhile, the robed figure who had commissioned Rhiannon — Charlotte — was hurrying back to the estate.
Today, she’d taken longer than usual trying to find a guild to spread her wealth across the continent in her stead.
‘It’s already the morning of day five. I have to get back fast.’
Her butler would soon be knocking on her door, telling her to get ready to leave.
Charlotte, holding back the blood in her throat until now, coughed it up with a painful heave — but increased her speed as she approached the mansion.
Quietly, she opened the window to her room and slipped inside.
At that very moment — knock knock knock.
“Are you awake, my lady?”
“…Yes.”
Charlotte answered quickly. Her voice distortion spell was still active, but thankfully, the butler assumed it was just morning grogginess.
“I’ve prepared a carriage out back for your departure to Langbald.”
“I’ll leave right away.”
Langbald — the small town in the southwest she had told the Duke she was traveling to.
With nothing else to pack, Charlotte simply folded her bloodstained robe and placed it in her bag before stepping out of the room.
The butler glanced at her, noticing how pale and haggard she looked. At the same time, blood suddenly dripped from her lips.
“Are you all right?!”
The usually stoic butler widened his eyes in shock.
Charlotte, silently cursing the delayed aftermath, quickly pressed a handkerchief to her mouth.
The pure white cloth was instantly soaked with blood, dripping into her palm.
Only when it was thoroughly saturated did the bleeding stop.
“I’m fine. Just… lingering side effects from the poison.”
Would he believe her? Charlotte glanced at him with trembling eyes.
Thankfully, the butler only frowned at the sight of the blood, not questioning her excuse.
Relieved, she climbed into the waiting carriage.
“Please travel safely.”
Even the knights of the ducal house had never offered such a courtesy — yet the butler, whom she had only known for five days, had done so.
Charlotte gave him a slight nod before closing the carriage’s side hatch.
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