Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Girl Who Will Become a Countess (2)
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"This is a bit strange."
"What's strange?"
Duon fiddled with his mustache and let out a groan. He handed the orb back to Ronan as he spoke.
"I can't figure out what material it's made of at all. I used to deal in pets once, so I thought my knowledge was pretty broad... but this is the first time I've ever seen something like it."
"Shit... so it really was shit instead of an egg?"
"I don't think so."
Ronan raised an eyebrow at his confident tone. Duon rummaged under the stall and pulled out a small hammer. One side of its iron head shimmered with a bluish glow.
"It's an appraisal hammer coated in mithril. One of the most expensive items in my shop."
He tapped the orb with the hammer. A strange sound, utterly unlike any normal strike, echoed out. Ronan's eyes widened.
"That sound..."
"Do you know the properties of mithril?"
Ronan nodded. Mithril, known as the prince of metals, had the unique property of producing a distinct ring like that when it clashed with something harder or of equal hardness.
"Give it here."
"Eh? Customer?!"
Ronan snatched the hammer and struck the orb again. Chaaang! The loud metallic clang drew the attention of everyone in the market.
"What the hell did you wrap up and sell?"
Ronan clicked his tongue. He'd put some real force into it, but the orb didn't have a single scratch. It meant the orb's hardness was equal to or greater than mithril. Even Duon couldn't hide his amazement.
"One thing's for sure... whatever it is, it's something incredible."
Whether shit or egg, it was terrifying either way. Ronan found the latter possibility a bit more frightening. If it was an egg, it meant some creature would break through that shell.
"Would you consider selling it? I'd be interested in buying..."
"No thanks. I'll keep it. Can't sell something when I don't even know what it is."
"I think that's the right call. Get a proper appraisal."
Ronan pocketed the orb again. Now he was even less inclined to sell it out of sheer curiosity. He'd seek out someone more knowledgeable, or maybe ask that guy Baren.
Just then, Asel poked Ronan's back. He mouthed the word 'Phileon.' Ronan clapped his hands and turned back to Duon.
"By the way, you seem to buy and sell all sorts of things. Got any books related to Phileon?"
"Hm? You mean Phileon Academy?"
"Yeah."
Ronan explained the situation. He needed to gather info ahead of next month's entrance exam. Duon's face lit up as he listened with vigorous nods.
"Ah, so you're aspiring students? Perfect timing."
"Perfect how?"
"My daughter is taking the Phileon exam this year too. I think I can help a little. Hey, kid!"
He called out toward the wagon behind the stall. It was a heavily modified cargo wagon that served as transport, shop, and storage. When no answer came, Duon knocked on it like a door.
"Baby! Marya!"
"What? Baby?"
A head popped out from the wagon's roof. She had thick, lion-like golden blonde hair that was striking, and the smallest head Ronan had ever seen on a girl. She scowled as she spoke.
"Old man... didn't I tell you not to call me that?"
"Oof."
Ronan let out an awkward chuckle. The line didn't match her doll-like appearance at all. A sense of déjà vu flashed through his mind.
Hm? Wait. Definitely...
Small head, blonde hair. A face he'd seen somewhere before.
Marya. Marya? Where have I seen this girl?
The memory teased at the edge of his mind. Duon planted his hands on his hips and barked.
"Marya! What kind of language is that!"
"If it bugs you that much... yaaawn... just let me live independently."
"You little...!"
Marya yawned without covering her mouth. Asel's face went pale. She stretched languidly and leaped down from the wagon in one graceful motion, landing lightly like a cat.
"So, what are you kids?"
She eyed the boys with hands behind her back, trying to look imposing, but her height was just a bit more than Asel's, so it didn't land. Duon thwacked her head.
"Ow! Why'd you hit me!!"
"Cut it out. Introduce yourself properly. These are important customers who made a big purchase, and they're applying to Phileon next month."
"Tch... customers?"
Marya rubbed the spot and scanned the boys up and down. Their shabby clothes were one thing, but they looked too young. Suspicion narrowed her eyes.
"What'd they sell to be 'big' customers?"
"Marya. Have you forgotten the merchant group's iron rule? We don't ask about customers' money or goods' origins."
"...Oh, right. Sorry, everyone."
Marya bowed politely in apology. Ronan nodded, intrigued.
She'd latched onto 'customer' instead of Phileon earlier too. No rough edges, but her merchant mindset seemed solid. Seeing this, Duon bowed as well.
"Forgive her rudeness. She's my only daughter, but growing up around men in the merchant group... it's my fault as a parent."
"It's fine. Hey, could you lift your head for a sec?"
"Pardon? Why?"
Marya looked up. Her delicate features were perfectly symmetrical, like measured with a ruler. Her sea-green eyes evoked the subtle hues of a southern ocean.
She was quite the beauty. Of course, compared to his sister Iril, she was less than chick piss.
"Hmm?"
Ronan tilted his head as he studied her face.
"Mister, you said she's your only daughter?"
"Yes? Oh, yeah. That's right."
"Weird... no hidden sons tucked away or anything?"
"Pardon...?"
"Think about it. Us guys make mistakes sometimes. You know, youthful indiscretions..."
Embarrassment crossed Duon's face. Even five bottles of booze in, this wasn't the kind of talk for in front of his daughter. Asel tugged at Ronan's sleeve, sensing the chill, but Ronan's mouth spewed even cruder examples.
"Like that night the dishwashing maid's ass looked extra plump... nothing like that?"
"The more I hear, the worse it gets!"
Slap! Marya's palm flew like the wind and struck Ronan's cheek. His head whipped around with an ominous sound. It was hard to believe the power from her small frame.
"What the hell are you saying to my dad!"
"Ro, Ronan... you okay?"
"This smack..."
Ronan rubbed his cheek and slowly turned back. His temper flared, but certainty settled in. The girl before him was who he remembered.
Ronan said,
"Your middle name... is it 'Sen' by any chance?"
Marya's eyes widened mid-huff. It was a middle name she'd made up at ten, known only to her and Duon.
"H-how do you...!"
Ronan smiled bitterly. Life really was full of surprises you couldn't predict even a step ahead. To run into a past connection here.
Damn it, Count Armallen. You're... a woman.
The first time Ronan met her (though he'd thought 'him' back then) was nearing two years into his Penal Legion days.
They'd been fighting werewolves for two months in the remote northern Tukhan Plateau when some fancy noble showed up loaded with supplies.
"I am Count Sen, ruler of Armallen. I've come to commend your hard work."
The count was a androgynous beauty with short hair. Obvious now that the secret was out, but the spitting image of Marya.
He'd brought enough rations for a year—barely—and gifted every soldier an expensive silver weapon. It matched the rumors of him being the empire's second-richest after the emperor.
Of course, nothing was free. Merchants don't do losing deals. Arming them with silver weapons—werewolves' weakness—was as good as saying "clear these furballs out of my business territory quick."
Everyone knew his angle. But gratitude was gratitude, so Ronan and the soldiers cheered the count's name.
"Whoa! This is why rich folks rock! Check out my handstand, Count Sen!"
"Take my ass, Sen!"
Anyway, the day the count arrived, he threw a grand feast. The Penal Legion got to vent their pent-up frustrations with booze and food they'd never seen before.
As the top warrior, Ronan sat beside the count. Sen had a refreshingly un-noble, easygoing personality, making for lively chat. After about thirty rounds?
Ronan slurred while pouring,
"Hic, got a question, Count... hic, is the bottom... golden too?"
"Ugh, the bottom... what?"
"You know, down there. The pubes on your dick and asshole... hic! Wonder if nobles are different. Eh heh heh."
"...You bastard!!"
The count's face flushed crimson as he slapped Ronan. Ronan tumbled two rolls and smashed a bottle over the count's head. Crash! The feast ended there.
...No wonder he got mad.
The last time he saw him was during the battle with Ahayute. The private soldiers the count brought rivaled a full legion. He led from the front to boost morale and died on day one in an explosion.
Good person, too.
Ronan twisted his lips and looked down. Marya was still huffing. Lower still, her chest already asserted its presence. How the hell had she hidden that? It got even bigger later.
"How'd you know that name?! No, apologize to my dad first!"
Marya yelled. Asel watched nervously. Ronan held back Duon, who was about to scold his daughter.
Then, he bowed.
"Sorry. I was mistaken."
Asel's face twisted in shock. Duon fussed to lift him, but Ronan stayed frozen.
Only when another customer pulled Duon away did Ronan slowly raise his head. Marya crossed her arms and snorted.
"Hmph, at least the apology was quick."
"Not to you, you flat-headed bitch."
Thwack! Ronan stood and drove his fist into Marya's crown. Far harder than Duon's loving flick. Marya crumpled like she'd been hammered into the ground.
"Waaah... waaaaah...!"
"Don't touch my face if you don't wanna die. Got it?"
Ronan menaced. He didn't know what led to her becoming Count Armallen or why the male disguise, but the count he knew was the continent's greatest merchant. Building rapport would surely pay off.
"Got it?"
"Ro, Ronan... enough..."
But he wasn't about to grovel for it. What he'd said to Duon was rude. Her anger as a daughter was understandable.
But getting slapped pissed him off. The rest was none of his business.
"Hic... hiiing... it huuurts..."
Marya clutched her head and didn't get up. Sobs started leaking out. Asel jabbed Ronan's side.
"You hit too hard...!"
"I went easy... damn it."
Her small shoulders shook pitifully. The cries grew louder. Ronan sighed, approached, and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Ha... so why'd you do that? Know your place next time and stay calm!"
Bam! Marya kneed up and unleashed an uppercut. Ronan's body swayed from the chin hit. No trace of tears on her face.
"You jerk! Thought you split my head!"
She grabbed a chair without hesitation and smashed it on his head. Kwak! Ronan's face burst through the seat. The commotion drew market eyes.
"Cu, customer! Marya! What the...!"
"You damn bitch...!"
Veins bulged on Ronan's fist. Duon was rushing back, even tossing money aside. Asel screamed,