Chapter 134

“Well done.”

No matter what the arsonist tried, the flames would not die down.

The best hotel in Dreykum was slowly turning to ashes, belching terrifying heat. Black smoke settled over everything, and there was always the risk the fire could spread nearby, so Nerys had evacuated everyone far away.

Over her blood-stained nightdress, Dora had managed to fetch a robe for her, and Nerys had been issuing orders until finally moving to Dreykum’s lord’s castle. Only Talfrin, still dressed as a servant, dared tease her when she looked this grim.

Nerys snapped at him, unable to take it.

“I said I was wrong.”

“No, what are you saying? You did well,” Talfrin said, even clapping as if genuinely impressed, stuck to her side in case she tried something reckless again.

“It was my mistake. To think I didn’t realize how amazing you are. While everyone else was helpless, you threw yourself in and saved your friend! A friend so precious you’d even try to leave her behind! Truly moving. Everyone should hear about this story—especially Madam Ellen.”

That was a terrifying threat—worse than any insult.

Unlike Nerys’s relatively easy-going mother, Ellen was meticulous and never let anything she disliked slide. Especially when it came to Nerys’s safety, she was hypersensitive, thanks to her own old losses.

If Nerys’s mother would at least listen after confirming her daughter’s safety, Ellen would nag her ear off, no matter what. Nerys sighed.

“What else could I do, just stand by and watch?”

“You should have given the order! That maid’s sword work showed her true target was you from the start. She must’ve made her last move, knowing we’d interrogate everyone involved tonight.”

Unlike Diane, who was so shocked she could barely breathe, Nerys and Talfrin had seen and remembered the whole event.

Diane’s maid had subtly tried to lead her somewhere quiet, probably to stage a kidnapping if she’d succeeded.

But even after Talfrin set Diane down and left, Nerys kept her eyes on her. She knew Camille’s methods.

The First Princess, paranoid and obsessed with control since childhood, had trained her own assassins to loyalty and scattered them to noble households as spies.

As a merchant house, the MacKinnons employed many more people than a normal noble family, and many came from outside the region. They couldn’t act like an ancient house with loyal vassal families.

So, while the MacKinnons had strict hiring standards to keep out spies, even the best couldn’t stop the Empire’s most skilled assassin.

In her past life, Nerys had seen that there were few places in the Empire without one of Camille’s “Silver Moon” assassins—maybe only Maindulante and the Elandria Duke’s house.

So, with this many agents involved, why wouldn’t Camille use a mole already planted?

After escaping the fire, Nerys had carefully watched the MacKinnon entourage for anyone acting suspiciously or missing.

If this attack was only the beginning, it could get worse.

Then she noticed the maid who’d gotten herself out before anyone even realized her mistress was missing.

Seeing her draw a silver dagger in a big, obvious motion, Nerys was sure—the maid had known Nerys would intervene, so she’d waited in disguise until then.

Waited until Nerys was close enough to be within reach of her dagger.

But Nerys couldn’t just stand by. That maid was going to kill either Nerys or Diane—maybe both—in front of everyone.

Dora, who’d cut down the maid as she moved, spoke bitterly.

“They set up a lot. The young viscount was kidnapped and left at the fire site, the count’s daughter was kept in a completely different place, the main force attacked you, and a spy was kept in reserve… Several teams moved separately, so if one failed, another could finish the job.”

“If it had all worked, all the evidence would’ve burned up in the hotel, and if Joyce or Diane had been found too late, relations between Maindulante and the MacKinnons would be ruined. If I’d been killed, there’d be chaos in Maindulante’s government.”

Nerys’s analysis was perfectly logical. But was it really worth going this far?

Talfrin, recognizing the skill of the attackers, guessed at their identity. But otherwise, he was as lost as everyone else. Just then, the captain of the guard entered.

Several of his men had been injured in the fierce hallway fight before Nerys was attacked, and then he’d had to evacuate everyone and bring them to the lord’s castle—he looked exhausted.

“Adviser, everything is sorted. The MacKinnon group is being kept in their rooms until all questioning is done. The young viscount and count’s daughter are resting after treatment by the priest. The fire is under control thanks to the castle guards and local townsfolk.”

“Well done. The injured knights?”

“The priest did his best, and they’re all recovering on guard.”

It was especially hard to find skilled priests in Maindulante; after treating Joyce and Diane, there wouldn’t have been much left for the knights.

Given all that, things were being handled as best as possible. Nerys nodded and jerked her chin.

“Bring them in.”

“Yes, Adviser.”

The captain opened the door and gestured. Two of the attackers, still alive, were dragged in, dressed in black.

Every piece of furniture but Nerys’s own chair had been cleared from the parlor. The assassins, forced to kneel, glared at her with slitted eyes.

After holding their gaze for a moment, Nerys suddenly kicked one in the head.

Thud! The sound was far too brutal for a normal human body. But the kicked man didn’t flinch—just glared at her.

“Brutal,” Talfrin remarked admiringly. Dora, truly impressed, thought her young lady even kicked like a pro.

“Strip them. There’ll be a mark somewhere.”

Talfrin gestured to the knights. They searched the assassin’s body, then peered into his mouth and jumped in shock.

“Oh!”

A tiny, rapid buzzing, like an insect’s wings, tickled Nerys’s ear. She clicked her tongue.

“Let go and back up.”

The knights obeyed instantly. Then everyone saw what was happening.

The assassin’s eyes rolled back and he began to convulse, black foam bubbling from his mouth. The foam sizzled, melting everything it touched—clothes, flesh—buzzing like wings.

In seconds, a man was gone, erased in the most gruesome way. Dora started to pull Nerys away, but the foam dissolved even the last trace of the body and evaporated cleanly.

“A spell,” the captain muttered, clicking his tongue. Talfrin bared his teeth.

“If they’re found out, they erase all evidence like this. There aren’t many who’d use such filthy methods—or afford spells this expensive.”

Naturally, everyone’s gaze shifted to the other prisoner. But even after seeing his comrade die, the second man’s eyes didn’t waver.

Talfrin grinned.

“You’re not going to tell us a thing, are you—who sent you, who you are, your goal?”

The man’s eyes said, of course not. The captain nodded grimly.

“Still, out of courtesy, let’s see how you do under torture.”

Nerys doubted it would work. The brand beneath their tongues—if revealed, they vanished as if they’d never existed… there was no longer any question.

This was exactly the “Silver Moon’s” work.

After a moment, Talfrin said to Nerys,

“We’ll be playing a pointless little game for a while, Adviser. Best save your strength and rest. I’ll report if anything turns up.”

“All right. Good luck.”

“Rest well.”

The captain gave a polite smile. Nerys left for her room with Dora.

Disturbing sounds drifted after her for a while—then stopped, however it ended.

❖ ❖ ❖

The lord of Dreykum nearly fainted when he heard the adviser had almost been killed on his lands.

He hadn’t attended last year’s harvest festival at White Swan Castle. So this was his first time seeing Nerys in person—but that didn’t mean he’d heard nothing about her.

Rumors: Lord Hilbrin had sided with her, she’d helped the Grand Duke root out traitorous nobles… as the ruler of Maindulante’s official gateway, he heard everything. Stories about the young adviser were many, but the most repeated was:

‘His Grace treasures her dearly. He gave her the late Duchess’s palace for her mother. He only listens to her advice, no one else…’

The Dreykum lord knew all about what things were like before Cledwyn’s succession, and the purges after. Like everyone, he admired Cledwyn and was afraid of him—he was almost too different to believe.

If someone Cledwyn cherished so closely died here, would he just get a scolding for negligence? He could easily lose his head for suspicion of conspiracy.

So he went overboard to treat the adviser and the MacKinnon party lavishly in the castle—let them stay as long as they wanted, spared no expense, provided luxury in everything.

Taking guests to the famous ruins of Dreykum was part of this hospitality. Pointing to the remnants of a great stone building, he explained proudly,

“This ruin is thought to have been built about four hundred years ago. When it was first discovered, it was already much as you see now, so we know little, but it was probably built by the first settlers of Maindulante.”

The ruins were truly massive—Nerys guessed about the size of White Swan Castle. But now, only piles of white stone a little taller than her own height remained.

When the owners left, time erased it. What once meant something to people became the meaningless legacy of the past.

‘The Imperial Palace will end up like this one day.’

The House of Elandria too.

“About two hundred years ago, a slash-and-burn farmer hid here and discovered the ruins while digging. Everything has been excavated now, but back then, the land that is now Dreykum was just like those hills you see—all buried in earth. Some say if you dig those hills, you’ll find more ruins.”

Nerys didn’t really care about that—she knew the basics already, and her thoughts were on Camille’s schemes. Dora and Talfrin were on high alert, watching for further attacks.

Just then, she noticed Joyce looking around, searching for Diane. Nerys frowned and asked Dora,

“Where did Diane go?”

She’d just been kidnapped, so surely she wouldn’t wander far. But Nerys felt uneasy. Then, behind a crumbling stone wall, someone beckoned to her.