She had misjudged him.

Inside the swaying carriage, Dieta gazed out the window. The scenery swept rapidly past. As the carriage carried her toward the annex far from the manor, an incredulous laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

'I didn't realize he was this rotten.'

Dieta had come here without resistance because she had nothing to gain by defying the ducal house, and because she trusted Osman. Of course, that trust was nothing like the trust one placed in a companion or comrade who could be relied upon to guard one's back.

It was trust in one of her own kind.

Someone with the same eyes as hers, capable of seeing the world as she did... A kindred spirit and a rival. The Osman Dieta knew was a coolheaded politician and merchant.

She had simply judged that such a man would never cut open the goose that laid the golden eggs. To her, the decision Osman had now made was foolish beyond measure.

'Marriage offers? They value me highly? There's much to gain?'

It was enough to make her laugh in disbelief.

She had thought he, at least, would understand.

The Dieta Trading Company's growth showed no sign of stopping, and before long it would expand beyond Cambria. Once that happened, both Dieta herself and her company would be worth incomparably more than they were now.

And he was replacing the head at a time like this?

The Dieta Trading Company functioned because Dieta was there. Everything revolved around her. The moment she was removed, it could not possibly run smoothly. Projects would be halted or frozen, and trouble was inevitable.

'It'll fall apart soon enough.'

Even if the ducal house poured money into it, it would take a long time to turn a profit. In other words, a loss. The Osman she knew was not someone who would do this for an immediate, visible gain.

Had age made him senile?

Had those vivid yellow eyes gone blind as well?

Dieta let out a long sigh.

Had she known it would come to this, perhaps she should have torn up the letter the moment it arrived and openly opposed him. Her company would have suffered a serious blow... but she would have had more options than she did now.

'Did I give Osman too much credit?'

With another sigh, Dieta looked outside. The carriage was slowing steadily, which meant they were almost at their destination. She studied her reflection in the window.

The rigid corners of her mouth. Her cold eyes.

Her mask was intact. She still held on to reason. Her emotions were stirring, but she could still keep them suppressed. So she would judge rationally, not emotionally. The situation had taken the worst possible turn, but...

'It's not as though I made no preparations.'

She still had moves hidden away. There was a way out. There were still means at her disposal.

In the end, they could swallow up a company this way only because Dieta bore the name Arbenia. If a ducal house tried to seize an ordinary trading company like this, repercussions were inevitable.

'Political condemnation. Pressure from rival factions. And under imperial law, too...'

Dieta assembled the puzzle in her mind. One by one, she began fitting together what she knew of House Arbenia, its enemies, the moves she had left, and anything she could connect to them.

'It's all right. For now.'

Preparing for the worst of the worst was a merchant's virtue. Dieta slowly took a deep breath. From now on, she would have to keep her wits about her. She could still overturn this.

CREEEAK.

The carriage stopped, and the door opened. Knights waited for Dieta outside—the men the duke had assigned to her under the pretext of providing an escort. She knew that escort was merely a name. They were watchers, nothing more.

Her own bodyguard, Pasion, was not here. Separating him from her had been the duke's first move.

There was no one she could trust, no ally. She was deep in enemy territory. Dieta stepped down from the carriage and raised her head. The corner of her mouth twitched as she looked at the family's poorly maintained annex.

'Ah.'

The place where her mother had hanged herself.

The scenes flashing through her mind were memories of the childhood she had spent in this cold annex. Suppressing her roiling emotions, Dieta walked inside.

2.

Agesio Arbenia.

As a son of the ducal House Arbenia, he knew how to handle people. At least, that was what he believed. What did handling people entail? Simple. Put what they wanted into their hands.

What they wanted most. What they held dear.

Place it on the opposite pan of the scales, and the balance would take care of itself. Agesio had more than enough power and wealth to grant others their wishes. The position of Duke Arbenia's eldest child was no small thing.

"Arranging a knighthood investiture is well within my power."

And so Agesio Arbenia was certain.

"A knight's standing is influenced to some extent by the rank of the lord he serves. As a knight of a ducal house, surely you would have no reason to feel inferior wherever you went?"

The adventurer before him could not possibly refuse this offer. Didn't the man admire knights? Knighthood was no trivial title, but to Agesio, a son of a ducal house, it was trivial indeed.

"Of course, what I ask in return is hardly anything."

Agesio spoke as though bestowing a favor. He held the advantage here. Dangling irresistible bait, starting with minor requests, then gradually fastening shackles around someone's limbs—that was his specialty.

Once they took the bait, it was over.

Agesio continued glibly. The adventurer before him had both an impressive reputation in this city and impressive skill. He saw no harm in swallowing him up.

"Cooperate with me, maintain friendly relations while I remain in this city, and from time to time..."

But there was one thing he had misunderstood.

Not everyone in the world was driven by a few gold coins, power, or titles. Even in a city full of adventurers chasing gold, there were oddities.

And Najin was an oddity among oddities.

He pursued honor, pride, and the stars—a member of an endangered species all but vanished in this age. Such oddities had a habit of giving answers the other party could never have imagined.

"I refuse."

Najin cut Agesio off.

Interrupting a noble was a breach of etiquette. Outside Cambria, it might even have earned him the severest punishment. But Najin did not stop there.

He rose from his seat.

Agesio's gaze followed him upward. A son of a ducal house was now looking up at a mere adventurer, while that mere adventurer looked down at a noble.

"I've said all I have to say. I'll be leaving."

Before Agesio could reply, Najin turned away. Without the noble's permission, he showed him his back and began walking. Agesio gave an incredulous laugh at the sight.

The knight beside him, however, could not laugh.

Agesio's bodyguard, Phileon, glared. From the beginning, he had disliked this adventurer who held his head so high before his master. He had restrained himself repeatedly because his master had stopped him, but this was clearly over the line.

Under imperial law, this was more than sufficient grounds for the severest punishment. Even in Cambria, there was a minimum of courtesy one owed a noble.

THUD!

Phileon took a step forward. His hulking frame made his footfall heavy enough to shake the office. Agesio did not stop him.

"You lowborn, gold-blinded mercenary trash..."

He strode toward Najin. The moment Najin turned to look back, Phileon thrust out his hand.

"Drunk on your own reputation, you've forgotten your place. Do you think the ducal House Arbenia is a joke?"

Phileon seized Najin by the collar and hoisted him until his feet left the floor. He slammed him against the wall with a bang, glaring at him.

Unless his master stopped him, Phileon intended to beat a little etiquette into the insolent brat before him. Sometimes a beating was just the cure for an animal full of itself.

Watching, Agesio chuckled. That should have established who was in charge. He was just raising his hand to restrain his knight when it happened.

"Hey."

Najin raised his hand and gripped the wrist of the hand clutching his collar.

"You hit first."

"... What?"

Mercenary trash, addressing a knight without a shred of respect.

Before Phileon could grow angry at that fact, Najin tightened his grip. Twisting Phileon's wrist, he freed himself from the hold on his collar.

"You bastard!"

Phileon scowled and was about to move.

By the time he noticed, Najin's foot was already touching his armor—the plate covering his abdomen.

... When had it gotten there?

In that fleeting instant, a flow ran through Najin's body. An instant of physical reinforcement. His speed at manipulating mana, wrapping it around his entire body in a single moment, was already beyond what an Expert could match.

Phileon belatedly summoned his mana, but by then it was far too late.

CRACK!

Najin snapped his bent leg straight, kicking Phileon in the abdomen. The hulking knight's body lifted into the air. An unexpected blow he had not prepared for. Taking it without raising his mana was devastating.

CRAAASH!

Phileon flew through the air and tumbled across the floor, leaving the office in chaos. A table and chairs for receiving guests shattered with a deafening clatter.

"Gah!"

Phileon crashed through a display cabinet and gasped. The plate armor that had taken Najin's kick was grotesquely dented. He tried to rise slowly, but the unexpected blow had left him unable to keep his balance.

Agesio's eyes widened as he stared at Phileon, who had flown over and crashed down beside him. His bewilderment lasted only a moment.

THUD, THUD-THUD...

Hearing the commotion, knights came running up the stairs. They burst through the door and took in the scene: Phileon crumpled where he had landed, and Najin standing straight.

SHING!

The knights roughly drew their swords and aimed them at Najin. Amid the blades pointed at him, Najin merely rested his hand on the hilt at his waist, as though ready to draw at any moment.

"He attacked first," he said, his face expressionless. "I do not disregard the authority of the ducal House Arbenia, but this is Cambria, the City of Opportunity."

Show nobles a minimum of courtesy.

That was a recommendation, not something with much legal precedence. It was merely the Central Guild's advice to avoid causing trouble.

Of course, a low-ranking adventurer would have to bow before a noble and make every effort to be polite.

But Najin was a Green-rank adventurer whose promotion to Red rank would be assured tomorrow. The Central Guild vouched for his identity, and depending on the circumstances, he could receive protection from factions that respected Cambria's laws and special status.

Red-rank adventurers were valuable enough to warrant that.

"I was attacked. I merely fought back."

Even surrounded by knights, Najin did not shrink in the slightest. His eyes, fixed squarely on Agesio, posed a question.

Was he going to take this further?

Najin had no intention of backing down, either.

It was an attitude of utter insolence. Looking at him, Agesio could only laugh. Of course, he could invoke the ducal house's authority and punish Najin here and now.

He could trample him, force him to his knees, and exact revenge.

But that would inevitably provoke a backlash. If word spread that a son of a ducal house had suddenly arrived in the city and used his authority to bring a renowned high-ranking adventurer to his knees, Agesio himself would suffer.

His position in the city would become awkward. And some exceedingly troublesome things would follow.

Had the adventurer considered all that before acting? If so, it was impressive indeed. Laughing, Agesio gestured to the knights, signaling them to lower their swords.

"My overly loyal knight has behaved discourteously," he said, looking straight at Najin. "Do give my offer favorable consideration. There is still plenty of time."

Najin did not answer. Pushing aside the knights blocking his path, he walked out of the building. Watching him go, Agesio covered his eyes and burst into laughter.

The man was completely mad.

An adventurer who charged in without considering the consequences, like a wild dog biting anything in its path.

"Now I want him all the more."

Agesio tapped the table with his fingers. The man was more interesting than he had expected. Above all, even Agesio, who was far removed from the martial arts, could see that the strength he had just displayed was overwhelming.

He wanted him. Wanted to make him his own.

Agesio narrowed his eyes as he considered how. If the man would not take the bait, he need only use another method.

3.

After leaving the company's building, Najin let out a long breath. He was in a foul mood. The words of that rude-looking blond had grated on him.

He could hand out knighthoods any time he liked. An investiture, if Najin wanted one? No trouble at all.

Najin found Agesio's casual words and manner, as though he were generously granting a favor, deeply offensive. He had only endured and heard him out because the man was a son of a ducal house. Otherwise, he would have thrown a chair and left long ago.

"Whew..."

As Najin walked, letting out a long sigh, he sensed someone and turned around. Pasion stood there, looking as though he had hurried after him.

Dieta's bodyguard.

The timing was perfect. Najin was just about to ask where Dieta had gone and why that ill-mannered blond was sitting in her place when Pasion handed him something.

"A gift from Lord Agesio. It is a token of goodwill, so you would do well to accept it."

Najin frowned and was about to refuse when Pasion spoke in a voice just loud enough for him to hear.

"Seven p.m. Sector 37 on the eastern outskirts."

Najin narrowed his eyes and glanced at Pasion. Leaving only those words, Pasion patted his shoulder a couple of times and walked away.

* * *

Time passed. At seven p.m., after the sun had set, Najin headed for the appointed place. Pasion waited there with a robe pulled over himself. After checking that no one was watching, he led Najin deep into an alley.

"So," Najin began. "Why did you ask to meet me privately? And what happened to Dieta, the company head?"

"There is something I must tell you about that."

Pasion steadied his breathing and removed his robe.

The sun had set, and little light reached the alley. Beneath a small, flickering lamp, he spoke.

"Ivan."

Najin's alias. Speaking that name, Pasion slowly lowered himself. He bent his knees and bowed at the waist, sinking until his bent knees reached the ground.

Trash lay scattered throughout the alley. Without caring about the filth covering the ground, Pasion willingly set his knees upon it. Even as his armor grew dirty, he knelt without hesitation.

Pasion was by no means a knight who took such things lightly. He did not kneel or bow his head to just anyone.

He knew honor. He knew pride. He considered protecting his master a glory, and he would never betray someone to whom he had pledged his loyalty. To repay the kindness Dieta's mother had shown him, he had volunteered to become her daughter's guardian knight.

He had failed to protect her mother.

But he would at least protect her child.

Honor, pride, and loyalty. Which of those three values mattered most differed from knight to knight. For Pasion, the highest was loyalty. For loyalty, he could cast aside everything.

That was why he knelt.

That was why he bowed his head to Najin.

"Lady Dieta has fallen into a trap."

His master had moves hidden away.

He knew that, but Pasion, forcibly sent to the City of Opportunity in Agesio's company, could not conceal his anxiety. Just before leaving the ducal estate, he had overheard Duke Osman murmuring to a subordinate.

Osman had ordered him to break Dieta and ruin her. Then had come the next order he gave his subordinate.

Faced with that, even the hidden moves his master had prepared would become useless. Knowing this, he wanted to act immediately, but he could not leave the city. The house's knights were watching him.

"She must be told. That all of it is a trap."

He spoke through clenched teeth.

"I know this is much to ask, but will you hear me out?"

He would offer everything he had.

Please, hear him out.