Chapter 570: A Passing Kind-Hearted Person
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 570: A Passing Kind-Hearted Person
"I want to eat steak."
"Huh?"
"I said, I want to eat steak."
In the drawing room of the Dion Mansion, Wei’er rested her chin in her hands and spoke with a deadpan expression.
"Actually, I’ve contracted a 'die-if-I-don't-eat-steak' disease. So, Marquis Sharp, to prevent the tragedy of an envoy sent by Her Highness the Princess dying in your residence, please give me steak."
"..."
Sharp looked slightly bewildered. He scrutinized Wei’er seriously, trying to determine what her angle was this time.
But Wei’er simply blinked her big, innocent, sparkling eyes at him. She patted the table, incessantly clamoring for steak.
She looked utterly weak, pitiful, and very hungry.
"Inform the kitchen. Make her a portion," Sharp finally gave up trying to overthink it. He waved a hand, directing the servant beside him.
"Yes, sir," the polite servant responded respectfully.
"Remember, I want it well-done!" Wei’er suddenly raised her hand like a primary school student answering a question. "Not a single hint of pink."
"Understood," the servant responded again.
"And it must be paired with red wine from the Grote Winery. If it’s not from that estate, I’ll cough if I drink it."
"...Understood." The servant bowed a third time. "We happen to have wine from the Grote Winery in stock. It will surely satisfy Miss Wei’er."
"Oh, and one more thing! The beef must be top-tier backstrap from the Southern Kerr Ranch, the spices must come from the Kingdom's Morse Valley, and the cutlery must be the same style used by the Royal Family..."
Wei’er continued to ramble, listing a long string of precious items that even the top nobility of the Empire rarely enjoyed. The servant finally began to buckle; cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked toward Sharp for help.
"Just bring out the best the house has to offer. Ignore the rest of what she said..." Sharp’s cheek twitched as he marveled at the sheer thickness of Wei’er’s skin. He sighed helplessly. "Bring whatever we have."
"Yes, sir!"
The servant felt as if he had been granted a divine reprieve. He bowed and beat a hasty retreat from the hall, seemingly terrified that Wei’er might make another outrageous demand.
"How mean," Wei’er pouted, puffing out her cheeks. "You won't even satisfy such a tiny request of mine? Is this how you treat your guests?"
"Heh. If I truly satisfied all of Miss Wei’er’s 'tiny' requests, I’m afraid you wouldn't be eating that steak until tomorrow morning," Sharp sneered.
"Oh? So you could actually have it ready by tomorrow morning?" Wei’er blinked in feigned surprise. "I once asked the best restaurant in the Upper District, and they said it would take three whole days to gather everything. Yet you only need one night? The House of Marquis Dion is truly impressive!"
"..."
Sharp’s expression froze as he realized he had misspoken.
Damn it, did I just let a little girl bait me into revealing our logistics?
And you claim you're just here to apologize?
Sharp took a deep breath. His refined upbringing quickly smoothed over his lapse in composure. Reorganizing his thoughts, he stared intently at Wei’er and asked slowly:
"I don't want to beat around the bush anymore. Tell me, Miss Wei’er—what is your true purpose for being so difficult?"
"What purpose could I possibly have?" Wei’er cupped her face in her hands, looking adorably innocent. "I’m just an ignorant young girl following the Guild President around. What bad intentions could I have?"
"That is exactly the problem!" Sharp slammed the table, his voice low and angry. "What on earth is that Princess playing at? Even with her noble status, she cannot harass the Dion family without cause! Our family is, after all, one of the most prominent in the Empire—"
"Harass?" Wei’er leaned in, feigning shock. "That’s a strong word. By my count, the President has only visited once, hasn't she? And this time, she sent me to apologize. This should be considered a normal social interaction. How can you call it harassment?"
As Wei’er spoke, she suddenly clapped her hands as if having a realization.
"Or perhaps... do you believe you have something that makes you worth the President's harassment?"
"Nonsense!" Sharp stood up abruptly, shouting, "The Dion family has kept a low profile for years, almost fading from the Empire's political stage! What could we possibly have that would interest Her Highness Celicia? It’s clear that Princess Celicia is maliciously targeting the Dion family, otherwise—"
"Oh dear, oh dear, don't be so angry. I was just talking. How could the President maliciously target you? Look, didn't she send me here with gifts?" Wei’er spread her hands, looking more innocent than ever. "Marquis, you need evidence before you make such claims."
"You!"
Sharp was choked with rage. He hadn't expected this little tag-along who followed Princess Celicia—this pink-and-white slip of a girl—to be as difficult to deal with as a greasy, roguish middle-aged man.
"Fine. I won't lower myself to your level. I have matters to attend to. Stay if you like, eat if you like!"
I can't do anything to her anyway. I'll just let the servants wait on her with food and drink for now. As long as it doesn't interfere with...
"Wonderful, wonderful!" Wei’er seemed excited. "Go ahead and get busy, Marquis. Just leave me be."
"Hmm?" Sharp, who was about to leave, whipped his head back. "What did you say?"
"Eh? Did I say something wrong?" Wei’er covered her mouth, her dark eyes darting around. Then she smiled and waved her hand dismissively. "I meant that since the Marquis is so busy with a myriad of affairs, I won't trouble you further. Just go about your business."
"You seem very happy about being left alone?" Sharp narrowed his eyes.
"Am I?" Wei’er asked in surprise. "Did you misinterpret my expression, Marquis? Well... if you're worried, you can find a couple of people to keep me company. I don't mind at all!"
"..."
Sharp fell silent, staring at Wei’er’s harmless, doll-like face, lost in thought.
Normally, when dealing with a nuisance like her, he would just have a few people keep her under surveillance. This was the Dion Mansion; he doubted she would dare try anything.
But now... the Princess was constantly pestering them, and while her reasons were unclear, it was enough to warrant caution—especially at such a critical time. And then she sends this troublesome girl...
Could it be...
"My apologies. I was being rude." Sharp rubbed his face, suddenly regaining his polite and composed demeanor. He turned around and sat back down in front of Wei’er. "How could I leave a guest and depart? My previous behavior was a disgrace to the Dion name. I am truly sorry."
"Eh? You're not going to be busy anymore? Didn't you say you had important things to do?"
"No matter how important the matter, how could it compare to having dinner with a distinguished guest like Miss Wei’er?" Sharp smiled. "Though our conversation was a bit unpleasant just now, surely Miss Wei’er won't hold it against me? I believe the Princess also hopes we can get along harmoniously, doesn't she?"
"...Of—of course I don't mind! How could I possibly mind the Marquis?" Wei’er forced a smile. "I’d love for the Marquis to keep me company a while longer."
"Is that so? Good."
Seeing the smile that was almost squeezed out of Wei’er’s face, Sharp became even more certain of his suspicion. He clapped his hands to summon a servant, signaling for another dinner to be served.
"Then, I hope we can spend a wonderful evening together, Miss Wei’er."
"..."
*
"What exactly is inside these?"
The more Steward Arno scrutinized the carriages, the more curious he became.
The black carriages bore no markings and were sealed tight. From the outside, it was impossible to guess what valuable items they contained.
"With carriages this big, maybe the Princess sent some beauties for the Marquis?" a subordinate joked.
"Get out of here. You think the Princess is as vulgar as you? The Marquis has seen every kind of beauty there is. Why would she specifically send women?"
Another subordinate rubbed his hands together. "If you ask me, it’s definitely gold and silver treasures!"
"Damn it, you're the vulgar one! If it were all gold and silver, with carriages this size, there’d be enough to buy the entire Dion Mansion and then some!"
"Hmph, that’s the Princess for you. What if she really is that generous?"
"Even if she is, it’s not like you’ll get any—"
"Enough!" The steward reached his limit and cut them off. "This is no time for your bickering. Move faster! If the Marquis finds out, he’ll snap your bones one by one!"
"Un... understood."
"Hmph, a bunch of idiots."
After scolding his foolish subordinates, Steward Arno paced slowly in front of the carriages. Suppressing his anticipation, he reached out and tapped on the side of a carriage.
The cold metal texture produced a dull thud. This only made him more excited, his mind already racing with possibilities.
What is it? Beauties? Or treasure?
Something sent by the Princess can't be ordinary.
Thinking this, the steward instinctively pressed his ear against the carriage wall.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
In the silence, he heard a strange sound.
Ah, so they're precious antique clocks?
Haha, from the sound of it, she sent quite a few. The Princess is truly thoughtful.
The steward wore a knowing smile, but cold sweat began to seep from his forehead.
"You lot." He straightened up and called over the subordinates who had just brought the tools.
"Yes? What is it, Lord Arno?"
"You open them."
"Eh? Us?" The subordinates looked delighted. After all, being the first to lay eyes on treasures sent by the Princess was a significant honor for them.
"Stop talking and get to it."
Watching his subordinates happily take their tools and begin prying open the carriages—which were gifts, yet sealed shut—the steward wiped his brow. He turned around and, without hesitation... bolted.
"Ah, it’s open!"
With a crisp crack and a cry of delight, the sturdy carriage was finally pried open.
The men peered inside with anticipation.
But what met their eyes was neither a pitiful beauty hidden away nor treasures worth a thousand gold pieces.
Instead...
Clatter, clatter...
One after another, round metal objects rolled out.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The faint, crisp, rapid sounds finally reached their ears clearly now that the carriage was open.
And at that exact moment, the ticking stopped in unison.
Then—
BOOM!
A searing light swallowed everything.
*
"Huff... huff... damn it..."
After the thunderous explosion and the light that had painted half the sky faded, the steward gasped for air, struggling to crawl up from the ground.
Though he had reacted instantly and fled with great speed, the blast had still caught him, throwing him at least dozens of meters.
Fortunately, he had some cultivation; otherwise, he would have been reduced to ash in that terrifying explosion, just like his subordinates.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it... That Princess used alchemy bombs to attack the Marquis's residence? Is she insane?"
The steward still couldn't believe what had happened. This was Belland, the Upper District! To carry out such a blatant terrorist attack against a Marquis's mansion—if this were reported, even a Princess would have to give a serious account!
"I have to inform the Marquis immediately... No, with a commotion this big, the Marquis must already know."
The steward shook his dizzy head and looked around with difficulty.
Following the explosion, the entire Dion Mansion had fallen into chaos. Terrified screams and shouts echoed everywhere.
Cries of "Fire! Put out the fire!" temporarily drowned out the noise. The steward saw a large number of servants and guards rushing toward the scene, and the glow of various magical spells began to flicker.
"No, I can't just wait. Even if I don't need to notify the Marquis, I must go and direct the aftermath."
Knowing he was seriously injured, the steward wobbled, forcing himself to stand.
He knew the Marquis's true nature—hidden beneath a refined exterior, he was just like his father. He knew he had to be on the front lines in a situation like this. Even if he was faking it, he had to look like he was working his hardest.
Otherwise...
"Hello there. Do you need help?"
As the steward was struggling pathetically to stand, he suddenly heard a voice of extreme gentleness.
Looking up dazed, he saw a figure through the settling dust and smoke.
It was a young girl in a black dress.
She didn't look very old and had a fairly ordinary face, but her face, dotted with cute freckles, was filled with a gentle and sweet smile.
Looking at that smile, the steward's panicked heart suddenly calmed down, as if he were being bathed in warm sunlight.
However, seeing a strange girl suddenly appear in the mansion, the steward maintained a degree of caution.
"Who... who are you?"
"Me? I am a servant of... ah, no. Tonight, I am merely a passing, ordinary, kind-hearted person."
The girl extended a slender hand. "Poor gentleman, entangled in worry and pain... do you need the help of an ordinary, kind-hearted person like me?"
"Help..." the steward murmured blankly. Under that increasingly gentle, sweet, and radiant smile, he felt as if he were about to be saved. His caution gradually dissolved. "Yes, I need help. I need—"
Thud.
Suddenly, a heavy sound jolted the steward awake.
He followed the sound and slowly looked down. There, he saw something that had accidentally slipped from beneath the "ordinary kind-hearted person's" black skirt...
A meteor hammer.
Its sharp spikes possessed a gruesome beauty, and the metallic sheen reflected a chilling light. Judging by the deep crater it had smashed into the ground from such a short fall, one could only imagine its staggering weight.
"Ah, my apologies. I was a bit careless."
The girl picked up the meteor hammer—which an adult man would have found difficult to even lift—and swung it effortlessly like a toy. After it let out a thunderous whistle as it cut through the air, she maintained her sweet smile and said:
"But as a passing, ordinary, kind-hearted person, it's perfectly normal for a meteor hammer to accidentally fall out from under my skirt, isn't it?"