Chapter 12
“What the…? You again?”
Kynemia approached the flustered Brian with short, deliberate steps and continued speaking.
“Tell me how much money you have. Pay my people fairly, and I might consider settling your crimes.”
Brian gritted his teeth.
“Is this brat insane? I’ve never done such things! That greedy wench framed me!”
He shrieked. Kynemia tilted her head sideways.
“Pathetic excuse, you repulsive pervert. Sayre and Rana were finalizing a contract with me for a massive investment. Why would they bother framing a penny-pincher like you?”
“Those harlots would sell their souls! Flaunting their tits, trading their bodies—damn them! Who do they think I am?!”
“What? You fucking degenerate…!”
Rana’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her hammer, poised to crush his skull. But Brian’s fear had faded—he knew she couldn’t act. The guild was his property, and her sister Sayre’s safety hung in the balance.
True to his thoughts, Rana seethed silently, her glare sharp enough to cut stone.
‘The real problem is this brat.’
My people? Investment? Brian seethed. A two-woman workshop spouting nonsense… Is she some noble’s spoiled brat?
His earlier confidence had crumbled since Kynemia’s arrival. Her arrogant gaze—looking down on him despite her height—gnawed at him.
Yet Brian came from village elites, rubbing shoulders with local nobles. A face like hers—memorably striking—would’ve been known if she held real power.
Probably a merchant’s brat. Not worth my fist.
Whether minor nobility or wealthy commoner, she was beneath his notice.
Just as relief began to soften his features—
“Well? Name your settlement amount, creep.”
Kynemia hurled an object from her pocket at his head.
Thwack!
“Gah! What the—?!”
“Bullseye!” Kynemia giggled as Brian clutched the silvery metal.
Mocking me with a silver coin? He raised it, ready to sneer—
“Th-this is…!”
“Platinum. One coin equals 100 gold.”
Enough to buy a mansion. Rarely minted, yet she treated them like pebbles.
The crowd gasped—all except Kynemia and Ayan.
“Speak, degenerate.”
Clang! A second coin struck his skull.
“Prove your wealth justifies framing my people.”
Clang! A third.
“What woman would grovel for your empty pockets?”
Clang! A fourth.
Pain faded beneath mounting dread. Each coin’s worth dwarfed his entire estate.
“Fools tremble, fearing gold-diggers—but you?”
Crack! The fifth coin smashed his nose.
“AAGH!”
“Let’s see this legendary fortune,” Kynemia taunted, lifting another coin.
Brian waved bloodied hands. “Stop! I’m no tycoon!”
“Then why accuse my people of extortion?”
“Wait! Please!”
As he shielded his head, Kynemia tossed a coin to Rana.
She infused it with aura, grinning darkly. “Remember this, maggot. Your coins mean nothing.”
The enchanted coin slammed into his gut.
“UGH!”
Doubled over, Brian gagged as Rana cackled.
“Y-you think this ends here?!” he roared, desperation morphing to fury. “Assault! I’ll have you arrested!”
Suddenly, Sayre arrived with soldiers and a mounted noble—Count Bruhn, the regional lord.
Brian’s eyes lit up. “C-Count! Your daughter—how is she?”
The Count ignored him, gaping at Kynemia. “Gr-Grand…!”
She gave a slight nod.
He dismounted swiftly. “Explain this chaos!”
“Count! These ruffians attacked—”
“Show respect!” Bruhn barked, kicking Brian’s shin.
“GYAH!”
“You dare insult Her Grace, Kynemia Lion, the Grand Duchess?!”
“Gr-Grand Duchess?!”
The crowd erupted.
“Where?!”
“Who?!”
Thud! The Count stomped. “Bow to the Grand Duchess!”
Like falling dominos, the crowd knelt. Only Brian and Kynemia remained upright—one sprawled, the other imperious.
‘Grand Duchess?! That brat?!’
Brian scrambled facedown, mind racing. Why her?! Why HERE?!
Kynemia loomed over him, eyes gleaming. “Pervert. Reckoning’s here.”
Her smile curled like a devil’s.
