Aldric continued, his tone cold and certain.
"Because they will die," he said flatly.
"With the Baroness’s emotional state after losing her child, she won’t hesitate to wipe them out."
Boran remained silent.
Aldric glanced at him from the side.
"Do you think no one will die in the duel later?" he asked again.
Boran was quiet for a mont, then let out a short breath.
"Ah... no," he answered at last. "I just feel this is... unnecessary."
Aldric stopped, then burst out laughing.
"Hahaha—unnecessary?" He slapped his thigh. "This is exactly what’s necessary."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering but filled with conviction.
"After that bandit attack, I can submit a request to declare the Voss territory an ergency area," he explained.
"That way, extracting profit from the Young Voss’s farmland becos much easier."
His smile widened.
"Taxes will be suspended temporarily. All the returns—go straight into our hands."
Boran swallowed.
His chest felt heavy.
It seems I’ll only be getting crumbs from this madman, he thought.
Boran finally snapped out of his own thoughts.
"Wait," he said hesitantly. "We’ve been talking about the Baroness this whole ti..."
He turned to Aldric.
"Shouldn’t the Baron be the one who—"
"Don’t be ridiculous."
Aldric cut him off imdiately, his voice dropping cold.
He stopped walking and stared straight at Boran.
"Don’t tell you don’t know who the Baroness used to be," he said quietly, sharply.
Boran fell silent, then spoke carefully.
"...What do you an?"
Aldric crossed his arms and let out a slow breath.
"She is the tallic Falcon."
Boran froze.
"...Huh? What? No—she... she—"
Aldric laughed.
"Hahaha. Of course you wouldn’t know," he said lightly. "But that’s common knowledge among the nobility."
He glanced back at Boran.
"And yes—just as you heard. She is extrely strong."
Boran swallowed hard.
Aldric turned away, then slightly looked back over his shoulder.
"There is no way to harm her," he said calmly,
"except through political matters."
Boran gaped.
The information struck him squarely.
—
At nearly the sa ti—
In the tomato field—
Silvara and Lucas resud their training after the break.
There were no new techniques.
No major breakthroughs.
Clash after clash followed, the sa rhythm as before. Lucas’s body had grown far more accustod to it, yet the end result remained unchanged.
Evening arrived.
The sunlight began to tilt westward.
Lucas stopped, let out a long breath, and summoned Loticentra.
Liona imdiately turned her head.
Her eyes widened.
"...Beautiful," she said spontaneously.
Lucas glanced at her briefly, then gave a small nod.
"Loticentra," he said shortly.
He then handed Loticentra to Silvara.
Silvara accepted it without much expression and walked toward the center of the field.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
She returned.
Loticentra blood, spinning gently as it sprinkled water around.
Liona leaned forward slightly.
"It’s wonderful," she said softly, full of admiration.
After the watering was finished—
They prepared to head back.
Lucas stood a short distance from the field and raised one hand.
"That’s enough," he said briefly.
Loticentra’s light dimd, and the flower slowly vanished, as if carried away by the evening breeze.
—
An open-top horse-drawn carriage rolled along the dirt road.
Liona sat at the front, holding the reins with an expression clearly different from her usual one.
Her eyes were sparkling.
She looked as though she was genuinely enjoying every jolt of the wheels and every movent of the horse.
"Slow down a bit," she said with a small laugh, as if joking with the horse as it walked on.
Behind her, Silvara sat upright as always.
Silent.
Calm.
Her gaze fixed straight ahead.
Lucas sat on the other side, a wooden chest resting on his lap.
Heavy.
Inside, gold coins—paynt from the rchant Guild—clinked softly against one another each ti the carriage shook.
Clink—
clink—
Lucas lowered his gaze, looked at the chest for a mont, and ran a hand over it.
"Damn, Silas is definitely going to make things difficult for in the next transaction," he muttered quietly.
The carriage continued onward toward the Voss estate, bathed in the slowly fading light of dusk.
----
The horse-drawn carriage finally ca to a stop in front of the manor.
Liona jumped down first, then deftly parked the carriage at the side of the courtyard.
Silvara and Lucas followed, stepping down after her.
They walked side by side toward the entrance.
There—
The Baroness was already waiting.
"My son."
Lucas stopped. The Baroness looked at him, then her gaze dropped to the small chest in his hands.
Lucas imdiately caught the aning behind her look.
"...This is just the beginning," he said flatly. "For paying off our ridiculous debt."
That familiar edge of sarcasm slipped into his tone.
The Baroness did not scold him.
Instead, she smiled gently.
"Congratulations," she said. "On your first transaction."
Lucas clicked his tongue softly. "Yeah."
He gave a brief nod, then walked inside without another word.
—
Now only the Baroness and Silvara remained.
The Baroness turned.
"Silvara," she said quietly. "Do you have so ti?"
Silvara straightened at once.
"Of course, My Lady," she replied, bowing respectfully.
The Baroness stepped closer and lightly patted Silvara’s shoulder.
"You’ve grown so much," she said gently.
"You already have a soulbound weapon... and your hair has beco even more beautiful."
A faint blush spread across Silvara’s face.
"Y–you flatter , My Lady," she replied softly, clearly embarrassed.
The Baroness let out a small laugh.
"You’re still as stiff as ever," she said gently. She cleared her throat, then spoke again, her voice calm yet carrying the weight of a decision.
"The place for the exile has been decided."
Silvara swallowed.
The matter of exile was not entirely new to her—at that sa day, when Lucas had mocked her for eavesdropping in the evening, the Baroness herself had co to inform her of the plan directly in the night.
The Baroness turned.
"Co," she said softly. "Follow ."
Silvara nodded quietly. "Yes, My Lady."
—
They entered the Baroness’s boudoir.
The room was unmistakably personal.
Fine wooden furnishings, a faint scent of perfu, several pieces of jewelry neatly arranged on the vanity, and books and docunts kept in disciplined order. On one side of the room stood a large table with a large map already rolled out on top of it.
The Baroness walked over.
She slowly unrolled the map, revealing a wide region marked with various symbols and lines.
Then she picked up a small tal pin.
"According to Matruska," she said, indicating a specific point—
Click.
The pin was pressed into the map.
"Here."
At the sa mont the pin was driven into the map, Lucas was stretching his body in his room, and—
[Ding!]
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