Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Berryhill's Ambitionist (2)
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On the way back to the prison.
Fortunately, the bards apologized, claiming they'd only embellished the heartwarming stories they'd heard from the guards.
They said good news like this should spread far and wide to brighten up the neighborhood.
Thanks to that, I managed to shake off her suspicions for the moment...
But ever since then, Camillia had been staring at me with an even more relentless gaze.
If her look back when we first met had felt like contempt...
Now it was like she was trying to figure out if I was a true talent or just another schemer.
"You seem to have quite the support from your men, Derek."
"Isn't earning trust the most important virtue for a warden?"
I replied as we climbed the old unpaved road.
All while personally pulling the cart loaded with oak barrels.
"For your subordinates to go around singing your praises like that? You're practically a saint."
"Come on, do I look like some righteous saint to you?"
Camillia fixed her serpentine, elongated eyes on me.
"True enough. You look more like a snake than a saint."
The princess turned her gaze to the bag of apples on the cart.
According to scripture, it was a snake perched on an apple tree that first tempted woman into corruption.
That image must have crossed her mind, because Camillia pulled out a plump bag of apples.
She took it upon herself to lighten the load.
"Then perhaps a snake in saint's clothing? Snakes are said to deceive humans with their seductive voices and appearances."
"Who knows. Everyone who's laid eyes on me tends to get scared first."
"Your brothers seemed to think otherwise. I heard plenty of young ladies swooning over you."
"That's my brothers. I'm different."
Unlike my outgoing brothers, I had a shadowy, decadent gaze.
And unlike their debauched ways, my steps were driven by ambition.
"Yes, you are different."
Her instincts—the same ones that had uncovered the Holy See's hidden drug labs—were kicking in.
She could tell this man had some secret agenda he was hiding from her.
"Come to think of it, I've never actually toured the inside of your prison."
"Why not drop by now?"
I'd made sure to thoroughly renovate the place in the meantime.
The underground was still sealed off, but everything else was practically flawless.
"So confident. You do know this counts as a surprise inspection, right?"
"Of course. I see it as a great chance to score points with my superior."
As I spoke boldly, we arrived at the prison entrance.
Two guards were stationed at the front gate.
"Warden, you're back?"
"What's with all the luggage? Let us handle it."
In the past, I'd gotten frequent reports of guards rebelling against the previous warden.
Now, they followed orders without question.
It was undoubtedly a good sign, yet Camillia felt an odd unease.
"Everyone seems especially energetic today."
"Of course. Thanks to that medicine you prescribed, my daughter's flu cleared right up."
Now they were even getting medicine from me...?
The princess, her hood pulled low, shot a prickling glance at my cheek.
I responded with the most benevolent expression I could muster.
"It's nothing. Basic remedies like that are standard issue once you graduate from the academy—"
"Makes sense. After all, you took down those intruders with 'poison,' so whipping up cold medicine must be child's play."
Making poison too...?
Her arm—toughened by mana reinforcement—clamped onto my shoulder.
Like a lioness seizing a snake by the scruff.
Even though she'd regained her imperial knight physique, I instinctively shrank back.
"The academy doesn't teach poison-making."
The guards, noticing her reaction, started eyeing the woman accompanying me.
"Who's the lady with you...?"
"This is Princess Camillia. Show proper respect."
Only then did the guards hurriedly bow their heads.
But her suspicions were already ignited; her eyes stayed fixed on me.
"Fascinating. A warden versed in poison-making."
"Haha... It's not just poison. He's made plenty that helps with mental recovery too."
The guards jumped in to cover for me.
They must not have recognized her at first since they were off-duty during her last visit.
"That's right. While we suffered under mind magic, he studied herbs all on his own."
"He gathered the ingredients from the mountain behind the prison himself. He's definitely not some shady character."
At their earnest persuasion, the princess fell silent for a moment.
She sensed no fluctuation in their mana—they weren't lying.
"The poison was made in a rush because of those intruders."
Seeing these gruff men vouch for me like this...
She judged there was no malicious intent.
"I'll let it slide for now, but be careful. Rumors can spread."
"Of course. Our defenses are airtight now—no need for poison anymore."
I handed the cart over to the guards.
We passed through the entrance and reached the first floor of the prison.
Clea was there waiting to greet us.
"Your Highness. I didn't expect both of you."
"Good to see you. We met from afar before, didn't we?"
"Yes. I'm Clea Rockhart, vice warden here."
"Rockhart family... You look familiar."
Clea removed her monocle and bowed politely.
"I was an imperial palace secretary until a few months ago."
"What brought you to a place like this—so far from everything?"
Her appearance was refined, her mana potent.
She must have been popular... so how did she end up here?
"I assaulted a member of the imperial family."
"..."
Camillia's blue eyes dulled at the shocking charge.
Her expression shifted to one deep in thought.
A woman with grudges against the imperial family, placed as my closest aide.
Skilled in poison-making, with the trust of the locals.
Camillia turned her haughty gaze back to me.
I broke into a cold sweat, like a snake cornered by a mongoose.
But her sharp stare couldn't linger.
Clea, sensing the tension between us, struck back perfectly.
"One of the royals had been spiking my coffee with aphrodisiacs. Habitually."
This time, even she flinched.
She'd recently cracked down on several royals involved in the aphrodisiac scandal.
"I'll apologize on their behalf. We're rooting them out and punishing them now—just wait."
"Of course. I'll fulfill my duties here."
"If you wish, I could look into reinstating you."
"No need. I'm content with this job."
Camillia found this unexpected.
Preferring this drab prison over a high-paying palace secretary role?
There must be something more valuable hidden here.
"It's low pay, but the peace of mind is worth it."
"Understood. I'll at least order your salary matched to your old one."
Clea subtly clenched her fist in triumph.
That sly fox...
"I heard there was a recent intruder, but nothing seems damaged."
"We repaired everything."
The princess lightly flicked the wall her brother had smashed.
The outer wall, now even more reinforced than before.
"These aren't the materials we supplied, are they?"
"We used special finishing materials traded from Bakar merchants. Mana-reinforced, so they don't break easily."
At the mention of Bakar, Camillia paused.
"Our warden has connections to Bakar too?"
"Ah, foreign merchants pass through here often."
Thanks to memories from my past life, I'd already secured trade routes with Bakar.
It let me spend the money I'd squeezed from my brothers wisely.
"I see. Those finicky folk must get along well with you."
"No real connections. Just luck."
I put on my most innocent face to dispel any misconceptions.
But the princess only narrowed her eyes further.
The empire's relations with Bakar weren't bad.
But for an individual to secure private trade deals with foreign merchants...
That was impressive—and suspicious.
Special finishing materials were key military supplies.
"Right, of course."
Camillia proceeded ahead with a meaningful expression.
The floors were perfectly repaired too.
How had the count's youngest son scraped together so much funds?
And then, the pinnacle of her doubts emerged.
A faint aura emanating from behind this special material.
The presence of immense power, one only the strong could possess.
"These must be the cells. Let's see how well you're managing them."
If she found prisoners being secretly trained here, she'd grill me properly.
She grabbed the doorknob before Clea or I could open it.
Too many suspicious signs.
Especially baffling: why was someone this capable lingering in a remote prison?
What was he plotting since taking over as warden?
Managing a brainwashing-proficient saintess.
Harboring an Eastern swordmaster.
And backing from an enigmatic grand elder.
Camillia entered with grim resolve, like exploring a long-dormant ancient ruin.
That instant.
"..."
She could only gape blankly at the cell.
At Myoran, sitting on the floor—not a bed—staring vacantly at a potted plant.
"...?"
She tilted her head like a cynical black cat.
Her brows furrowed slightly at the sudden intrusion of the princess.
"Who's she?"
"Princess Camillia. What are you doing right now?"
There were no restraints, no experimental tools, no bloodstains—nothing.
It was as cozy as a sunlit inn room.
Undeniably a teenage girl's bedroom.
"What in the world..."
Her sharp blue eyes wandered at the unexpectedly improved facilities.
Before she knew it, she blurted out an absurd question.
"What's that pot? Growing some illegal plant?"
"It's a peach."
Myoran, sitting on the floor, lifted the pot with both hands.
Her expression deadpan.
"Some bastard smashed it before I could eat it, so I'm growing it."
"..."
The princess infused her eyes with mana, glaring fiercely at the fine soil.
But no magical reaction whatsoever.
"What were you thinking to make your eyes so scary?"
"Ah... Um."
I shot her a disappointed look, as if to say she still suspected me.
Camillia's face flushed, just like the day she'd crushed me underfoot.
Soft as a ripe peach.
"You must have had high expectations. Sorry to disappoint. Our prison has an incredible reformation rate."
I waggled my eyebrows cheekily.
After all the effort I'd put into soothing Myoran's heart.
I'd broken through that black mage's traps with this frail body of mine.
"N-Next cell!!"
Feeling the heat, the princess tugged at her knit top hugging her graceful curves.
She hurried to the next room.
I glanced back at Myoran, giving her a thankful look for playing along.
Myoran watched them leave with a cold gaze.
The moment the warden fully exited.
"That was close. Didn't know the palace had someone that strong."
She resumed her cross-legged position, exuding intense inner energy.
The process of fully assimilating the Heavenly Jade's power into her own.
"To think she matches the Alliance Leader's level. I need to get stronger, fast."
She who'd lost her life's purpose and ceased all training.
Lately, she'd started harboring a small dream.
The warden who'd helped her just days ago.
She wanted to join his dream of turning this place into a happy haven for all.
At first, she'd doubted his dream.
But when he helped her slay Tutton's black mage...
Myoran suddenly recalled her father, who had faced unbeatable foes with dignity.
Even she, from the East, knew Tutton's retaliation would be immense.
Yet he stood firm.
And embraced her, a total stranger.
He showed no outward sign, but from then on, she'd thought:
Warden Derek might actually turn this into a great place.
He was still weak, sure.
But so what?
She was strong enough now to protect him and his convictions.
"First things first, eliminate the rotten bunch."
Her style of protection was a bit extreme.
She preemptively removed all threats.
"Then guard him safely by his side."
The ambitious woman's inner energy surged.
Enough to slip through barriers undetected.
Her life force, thick with yin energy, made even the pot tremble.
Soon, the peach seed sprouted under her power.
Myoran lightly tapped the jade sprout with her finger.
She gazed at it fondly, stroking the leaves—imagining someone, perhaps.
With delicate white hands.
A woman nearing twenty, bereft of family.
Her lifeless jade eyes smiled for the first time.
Her rich curves crowned with flowing hair.