Chapter 35
Who on earth gave these lower-ranking officers the authority to offer such advice? It would have been better if they had no say at all. Mia grumbled internally, ignoring the fact that this irritating authority stemmed from legislation she herself had pushed the Emperor to enact.
“Do I look like a fool who can’t assess value or draft contracts? Politics is a game of money, Pino. I know that far better than you.”
“But even if we ignore the outrageous prices you paid, we have no proper means to transport the supplies!”
“If I say it’s done, it’s done. We’ll secure transportation and storage as needed. In Raven, where money flows freely, what can’t we accomplish?”
“After all this spending, you plan to raid military assets again?”
“I’m using Blancher’s personal funds. Save your concerns.”
When Pino pressed whether the promissory notes to the merchant would burden the military budget, Mia waved him off. For now, the notes were under Grenier’s name, and she saw no need to explain she’d settle the debt herself.
Clatter. The jewelry box beside Mia sprang open, spilling ornaments across the table. Even to Pino—a lowborn supply officer ignorant of gems—their radiance and craftsmanship were unmistakably too exquisite for such careless handling.
“Why this sudden display?!”
“You complained about the military budget, didn’t you? Preparing funds in advance solves that.”
“Well… that might alleviate some worries…” Pino conceded reluctantly.
“These three rings alone surpass the value of all promissory notes I’ve issued. Sell them for no less than 5,000 florins.”
“But who would pay such a sum…?”
“Anyone offering less aims to swindle a fool like you. Sell cheaply, and you’ll answer for both embezzlement and defrauding Blancher.”
“Wh-what?!”
Pino, now demoted from “you” to “fool” after daring to question his superior, belatedly grasped the twin charges that could sink his family. Mia offered a perfunctory nod of “confidence” in his abilities before sweeping out.
Mia’s outing was nominally a stroll.
That she—a woman who rarely left home except for council meetings—now wandered daily raised eyebrows. Fortunately, the Emperor, Duke Blancher, and other keen-eyed politicians festered in Lux Court, leaving her unwatched.
True to rumors, “Flour Sold Out” signs loomed over shopfronts like grim monuments. Even wheat, absurdly priced, grew scarce. Merchants had bought provisions at rates exceeding Grenier’s initial offers, many paying in Solant—exactly as Mia intended.
‘I made it sound calamitous… Little do they know it’s all part of the plan.’
She clicked her tongue, recalling the supply officer’s pitiful protests. Yet Raven’s “chaotic market” remained disappointingly orderly.
Supplies from Etalon’s border would arrive within three days, alongside the Emperor’s order to advance. Their time here was already slipping away.
‘If only other prices would rise faster…’
But reckless buying risked exposing their goal: destabilizing the enemy’s economy. Merchants, once deceived, might distrust them further. Worse, this level of disruption gave Beridian royalty grounds to intervene.
A plausible excuse could limit consequences to fines, but overt malice might justify Beridian’s military mobilization against Etalon. While war was inevitable, delaying it even slightly favored them.
“Ghk—!”
A rusty blade pierced her arrogant calculations. Breath burst from her lips before she could process the pain. Foul warmth flooded her abdomen.
She didn’t need to look down to know.
She was an assassin.
And the ones who came after her this time were no ordinary foes.
She had just stepped away from the bustling market street to clear her thoughts.
The fact that they approached her in a back alley during broad daylight, where people could come and go at any moment, made it clear their backers were no ordinary group.
Mia spat out the blood pooling in her mouth and rose to her feet.
Delaying further would only worsen her disadvantage—turning her back on them had already sealed her fate.
Just as she moved to strike, a calloused hand seized her nape.
But she’d anticipated this. Such a blatant move was doomed to fail.
The corner of Mia’s lips twisted into a savage grin.
“Still, you’re not as pathetic as last time.”
Mockery laced her words as divine energy erupted from her, engulfing the man’s hand in a blinding surge.
“But if ambushes are all you’ve got, two of you won’t cut it.”
The giant’s scream clashed grotesquely with the dark smile staining her lips.
His body hurtled backward, carving a crimson streak through the mud-churned snow.
The moment she neutralized the first attacker, the second lunged through the opening, a sharp dagger gleaming in his grip.
Mia twisted aside, but her shorter stature trapped her within his range.
The blade grazed her ribs, staining torn fabric with fresh blood.
“Ugh…!”
No time for pain. As she shifted to reclaim ground, footsteps echoed—closer, louder.
Reinforcements.
She whirled around to see two shadows erupt from the darkness, polished blades glinting.
The new assailant slashed twin daggers toward her body with single-minded fury, determined to land at least one strike.
Mia stumbled back, conjuring a barrier of divine energy.
Pale light shrouded her, intercepting the blades’ impact.
Clang!
A flash—then the dagger shattered.
Mia seized the assassin’s collar and drove her knee, faintly glowing with divine power, into his gut.
“Gah…!”
He crumpled. A simple move, brutally efficient.
Did I finish them all?
No time to check.
Danger loomed again—not one, but two more reinforcements.
She ducked instinctively.
An iron club whistled over her head, close enough to stir her hair.
A heartbeat slower, and her skull would’ve shattered.
The assassin roared, charging her.
Thud! Thud!
Blow after blow pummeled her as she faltered.
She tried summoning another barrier, but her drained strength rendered it paper-thin against the man’s fists and club.
Conserving her remaining energy wasn’t an option either.
“Damn it!”
Mia staggered back, teeth gritted.
Fatigue dragged at her limbs; wounds burned like fire.
Worse, the men she’d felled earlier began rising, limping but relentless.
This was it—life or death.
