Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Hilton Merchant's Gratitude
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“There it is! He’s over there!”
Just as he was about to dive into the lake, leaving the sinking pleasure boat behind, Damian spotted Anna and Felix waving from a small rowboat.
They had heard from those who’d fled to the dock first and, despite everyone’s protests, rushed here to find him.
They were startled by the green flames still blazing on the pleasure boat, but smiles of relief spread across their faces at the sight of Damian safe and sound.
It saved him the trouble. Honestly, it had been quite exhausting.
Once aboard the rowboat,
“Young Master!!”
Anna threw her arms around Damian. Until the news came, all she could do was pace anxiously, so her worry must have been immense.
“You’ve been through a lot, Young Master. Those scum deserved to die, so don’t give it a second thought.”
Felix said with an awkward smile.
This incident marked Damian’s first killing since his regression. Felix worried it might negatively affect him.
Damian did look rather pale. To those unaware of the battle, it might seem like he was in shock from the act of murder.
But in truth, he was simply worn out. From the blood he’d shed preparing and the backlash of black magic.
Killing was far too familiar now for him to dwell on it.
This world was far too harsh to spare thought even for those trying to kill him.
Besides, those were the kind of vermin who routinely butchered living people and cut open their bellies. Burning them like firewood hadn’t given him a moment’s pause.
Still, Damian didn’t let on. He simply leaned into Anna’s embrace.
Acting too composed in such a situation would only raise suspicions.
The dock they returned to was even more chaotic than the ballroom.
Noble children wailing and screaming, servants and maids trying to calm them, and investigators who had just arrived.
“We’ll conclude the investigation here. Thank you for your cooperation, Damian.”
Damian’s questioning wrapped up quickly. Even as a bastard, being part of the imperial family had its perks in times like these.
He’d noticed something suspicious during the ball, tailed the culprits, freed the captured servants, and teamed up with Agnes to wipe out the assassins.
The investigators accepted his account without suspicion.
The other participants would likely spend hours being grilled on their connections to the perpetrators.
Damian couldn’t spot Agnes anywhere. She’d probably reinforced her body with mana during her escape flight and landed safely, so she should be fine.
Now back at the dock, she’d be undergoing her own questioning.
Damian boarded a carriage with his exhausted body and headed to the city near Arnesian Lake. Anna and Felix had hurriedly rented out an entire floor of the city’s finest inn.
Anna promptly boiled water and filled the bathtub. Felix sprinkled in some bath salts he’d procured somewhere, ones meant to aid recovery.
“You’ve grown even more today, Young Master. But for now, put all thoughts aside and rest easy.”
Such considerate people. No wonder his mother had trusted them.
Damian thought so as he sank into the tub.
The high-quality bath salts indeed brought a soothing languor. He felt pretty good.
The next morning, a group of men came looking for him.
“I am Edwick, Mr. Damian Renekht.”
The elderly man at the front bowed deeply.
“On behalf of Hilton Merchant Guild, I offer our deepest gratitude for this incident.”
Damian maintained a blank expression, showing no reaction to Edwick’s greeting. Edwick immediately grasped its meaning.
“Normally, our master would come in person, but due to special circumstances... If it’s not too much trouble, would you accompany us for a short while, Damian?”
Of course. This whole affair had been to meet Anya Hilton, after all.
Leaving Anna and Felix behind, Damian boarded Edwick’s carriage. It left the city and traveled along Arnesian Lake.
Despite the chaos the night before, the morning lake lay serene, veiled only in a light mist.
“Hmm?”
“Is something inconvenient for you, Damian?”
Damian shook his head at Edwick’s question.
There was something off, actually. He’d sensed a magic tool in the forest, one designed to disrupt direction sense.
It operated at a subtle level, hard to detect, but his countless battlefields had honed his senses to pick up even that faint aura.
He decided not to mention it, though. Anya was extremely wary of revealing her identity.
She’d probably refuse even the Emperor if he demanded a meeting. This would have to suffice.
The carriage followed the forest path until a massive mansion came into view. That was the Hilton Merchant Guild’s headquarters.
Even the knights glimpsed through the windows were no ordinary lot.
Weaker than Forrest or Marriott houses, perhaps, but the Hilton family was a commercial titan no average noble could touch.
“This way.”
Following Edwick inside the mansion, they climbed a spiral staircase, passed down a corridor, and reached a door ornately carved.
“I am Anya Hilton, master of Hilton Merchant Guild. It is an honor to meet you, Damian Renekht.”
Entering the reception room, Damian’s jaw nearly dropped.
It was the third most shocking thing since realizing his regression and summoning Molech.
“Thank you deeply for quelling the incident at the Arnesian Ballroom.”
The girl, whose head barely reached chest height, lifted her skirt hem and bowed. Damian alternated glances between the platinum-haired girl and Edwick before whispering to the old man.
“Does Hilton Merchant Guild have a hidden real master?”
Edwick gave an embarrassed smile and shook his head at the question.
“I can hear you. Even as a benefactor, that’s a bit rude.”
Anya said, puffing out her cheeks.
One of the Empire’s three great commercial pillars. Though weaker in power, Hilton Merchant Guild played the role of balancer, and its master was this young girl?
He even suspected illusion magic or a magic tool altering her appearance, but no unusual mana flows were visible.
Anya had taken over Hilton Merchant Guild three years ago. The family was shrouded in secrecy, with only her gender known.
Who would believe such a young girl had inherited the family and guild?
Of course, her identity wasn’t the key issue.
Damian’s goals were the Book of Hell among her collections and forging good ties with Hilton Merchant Guild.
As long as she could talk business, it didn’t matter.
“So, why did you want to see me?”
“As I said, to express our gratitude. Though with no survivors, we can’t uncover the culprits behind it... Oh, I’m not blaming you, Damian.”
From Anya’s perspective, it must sting inwardly.
Any clue left behind would let her track and punish the planners, but as Damian intended, the true masterminds would remain a mystery.
“Ahem. Of course, our thanks aren’t mere words. We’re merchants, after all. We want to offer proper compensation.”
Anya pulled out a fountain pen and began jotting numbers on blank paper.
“What are you doing?”
“Calculating.”
Anya grinned and kept scribbling numbers.
“Thanks to you, Damian, we avoided major casualties in this incident.”
Colhen had lost an eye, but his head was still attached. In an event this big, that level of damage wouldn’t draw much notice.
“I’ve reverse-calculated the impact on Hilton Merchant Guild had things gone poorly. Based on that, I’m quantifying the favor you’ve done us.”
Quick with numbers. Implausibly so.
A talent distinct from aura or magic. Young as she was, Anya possessed innate genius as a merchant.
“Here it is. This is what Hilton Merchant Guild wishes to pay.”
Damian stared at the price sheet Anya offered. It was enough to buy a hundred unreadable ancient tomes no one could decipher.
In other words, plenty of room to ask for more.
“How much to forge a solid fake identity?”
Anya tilted her head at the sudden request. After a brief ponder, she wrote a new figure on the paper.
“This should cover it.”
“Then I’ll take one.”
The identity of Damian Renekht was helpful sometimes, a hindrance others.
The Emperor’s bastard drew attention wherever he went.
There were places where operating as a regular adventurer proved advantageous. Damian requested an identity for such times.
Anya didn’t ask his purpose for the fake ID.
Instead, she subtracted that amount from the price sheet. A seasoned merchant belied her youthful looks.
“It’ll take some time, though.”
“Time’s fine. Reliability matters.”
“And the remaining amount?”
“Rather than cash, I’d prefer Hilton family heirlooms. Possible?”
Anya pouted her lower lip. The reaction was more like a peer girl than a merchant. But she quickly regained composure.
“I’m impressed by your considerate proposal.”
The sum Anya calculated was far from small. Enough to affect the guild’s annual plans.
Heirlooms weren’t easily liquidated anyway. Paying with them was a boon for the guild.
For Anya personally, though, it was regrettable.
Following Anya’s lead, they descended to the underground vault. No key needed—the lock opened only to Anya Hilton’s fingerprints.
“Whoa. This is impressive.”
The boast of rivaling the imperial palace’s secret vault wasn’t hyperbole.
The treasures filling every corner left even Damian wide-eyed in astonishment.
He’d thought all collections sold at auction after Hilton’s fall, but clearly not.
“This gem here, for instance...”
Anya couldn’t hide her excitement as she introduced the family heirlooms. Separate from keeping them private, she’d clearly longed to show them off like this.
“What about these books?”
“Ancient tomes from a treasure chest at the bottom of Arnesian Lake. But we can’t decipher the language—unknown era.”
“I’ll take those too.”
Two Books of Hell: Mem and Gimel.
Mem was relatively common among Books of Hell. Perhaps because Infernals were numerous among demons.
Gimel, tied to Dream Demons, was harder to find.
But before regression, Damian had contracted the Hell Lord Dream Demons served, thanks to his unique nature.
If Molech had reacted, she would too.
“Are you sure? They’re not that valuable...”
Their appraised value matched Damian’s expectations—low.
“And that one.”
Damian pointed to a worn pouch, fist-sized, wearable on the belt.
“A Subspace Pouch indeed has endless uses. That one’s Archmage Michella’s work. Functionally like modern mass-produced ones, but with artistic flair.”
That’s what people thought. Soon, though, the secret of Michella’s pouch would be revealed—by Rubia, whom Damian loathed.
‘No one imagined it drew mana from another dimension.’
That power synergized well with both magic and black magic.
Damian couldn’t use it yet, but Rubia would soon publish her findings.
Even with the two Books of Hell and Michella’s pouch, the value fell short. Anya didn’t know their hidden worth.
Thus, he added a few gems and artworks from Hilton heirlooms.
Taking just two mystery tomes from here would spark rumors.
As they exited the vault, Anya tugged Damian’s sleeve.
“Not yet. This isn’t enough.”
“A surplus is fine. This suffices.”
“No. My pride won’t allow it.”
A true merchant by nature. She’d lose sleep over underpayment.
“Ah! This’ll do.”
Anya dashed to a corner and returned with two fist-sized Honing Stones.
“You wield a sword despite being a mage, they say. These should help—made of pure mythril.”
Requiring separate processing, the items would be delivered to his annex later. Back in the reception room, Anya placed Anytic on the table, looking somewhat tense.
“Ahem. Compensation settled, so let’s talk. What trick did you use that day for such results? Edwick barely stopped me from rushing to the ballroom!”
She’d been watching, as expected. Damian had wanted to discuss this too.
“…Now you see? It wasn’t a mere trick—it’s a flaw in the game itself.”
“Urk. Such a fatal mistake...”
Anya let out a cute groan and hung her head. Her platinum hair drooped, mirroring her mood.
Surprisingly quick to accept. Pre-regression, she’d sent a long letter full of curses.
Of course, back then, Hilton was in full decline. Stressed, her reaction had been fiercer.
“W-Were there other issues?”
Damian calmly explained Anytic’s other flaws in its current state.
To build strong ties with Anya and ensure Anytic launched perfectly.
Anya started glum but listened intently, pondering improvements.
“Didn’t realize you had such talent. The imperial blood is impressive.”
Unrelated to his bloodline, really. Unable to mention regression, Damian just smiled sheepishly.
Afterward, he left the mansion under Anya’s escort. She promised to send the first official Anytic batch to him.
Days later, Edwick delivered the promised items by carriage to the annex.
Damian kept the two Books of Hell and Subspace Pouch; the rest he had Anna and Felix distribute appropriately.
Around then, a letter arrived from Agnes too.
‘About the broken engagement, probably.’
After the boat ballroom incident, Damian had written first.
Inquiring her safety, apologizing for letting go of her hand, and asking her thoughts on his proposal.
Though easier for him to request annulment, it needed cause. Hence Agnes’s help.
Edwick mentioned she’d been invited by Anya too.
Not as pivotal as Damian, but she’d earned merits in the incident.
Unlike him, Agnes opted for cash in installments from Anya—to pay off Schubert debts.
The letter began by saying Damian needn’t feel bad about that day.
Letting go of her hand was the right call. She’d babbled foolishly then, but her judgment was sound.
“…What?”
Damian’s face crumpled midway through reading. He checked front and back for traps—none.
Anna, peeking from behind, poked his side with a mischievous smile.
…Wishing to convey the feelings left unfinished at the ballroom, I yearn to see you again, Damian. Please honor this girl’s heart.
Your fiancée, Agnes Schubert