Silvia carefully skimmed through the documents she had given him.
Starting from the scale of the Dragon Clan Scriptures’ distribution in the Dekun County to the sales routes.
“The scale is smaller than I thought.”
“It seems they only recently expanded into the Dekun County. The distribution network has only been in place for about three months,” Ethan nodded.
Even if there was someone overseeing the sales network of the county, it was likely to be an insignificant, worthless person.
‘Well, that makes sense.’
The chief priest they had investigated previously held quite a high position.
Above the chief priest was the bishop, and above that, the archbishop who governed an entire kingdom.
Chief priests like that wouldn’t be scattered in every subordinate village.
“Well, it doesn’t matter.”
The distribution of the Dragon Clan Scriptures alone was an excellent excuse to strike at Dekun County.
Ethan looked at Silvia.
“Send a message to Hans. Tell him to give Count Cheimon a hint—suggest he lower the taxes.”
“Understood.”
Silvia immediately understood the meaning behind it. Her own plan coincided exactly with that.
‘As expected of the Grand Duke.’
Not only was he strong in battle, but his wisdom was also exceptional.
For someone like her, who had lived a life at the bottom, rising to the very top was one of her lifelong dreams.
Ethan Ardan.
If she was with him, she could fulfill her wish as well.
She whispered with admiration.
‘I have to work even harder!’
A strategist must think of plans more efficient than what the lord himself devises.
With that resolve, she quietly left the office.
Soon, the communication crystal shared by Silvia and Hans began to glow.
After receiving the message, Hans immediately sought out Count Cheimon.
“Count, are you available?”
“Come in.”
Hans politely opened the door.
“Well, what is it? Has the Grand Duke decided on his next target?”
Count Cheimon’s eyes gleamed with urgency.
If the Grand Duke attacked the Irudan faction once more, the tide would completely turn to their side.
Hans shook his head at that.
“Sorry, but we haven’t been able to determine the Grand Duke’s next destination yet. However…”
“However?”
“I have something to report. Please take a look.”
Count Cheimon frowned as he examined the documents Hans handed over.
The papers detailed the justification the Grand Duke used to attack the two baronial families.
“So?”
Hans quickly continued, noticing the Count’s skeptical gaze.
“The biggest justification the Grand Duke used was the tax limit written in the vassal contract.”
“Hmm. And?”
“Why not remove the Grand Duke’s justification altogether? We could drastically lower all the tax rates our faction collects. And if we improve welfare for the Subordinate Villagers as well…”
Count Cheimon scoffed. He wasn’t ignorant or unaware enough to have missed that idea.
“Chief of Intelligence, think this over. Are we the only faction collecting heavy taxes?”
“No, sir.”
“Exactly. The Irudan faction maintains equally high tax rates. The Grand Duke’s recent attack was on that faction.”
“Of course, I think it’s highly likely the next target will be a Subordinate Village belonging to the opposing faction. But, Count, the Grand Duke is unpredictable. We need to prepare accordingly…”
“Chief of Intelligence.”
“Yes?”
“That’s an overreaction. The chances of the Grand Duke attacking us first are slim. Lowering taxes prematurely out of fear—how will the Irudan faction see us? Not just them, but the other seven noble houses of the kingdom will mock us.”
Hans quietly bowed his head.
Outwardly, he looked like a subordinate sulking after being dismissed by his superior. But inside, his thoughts were completely different.
‘Heh, as expected.’
That greedy man wouldn’t lower taxes so easily.
Just as predicted.
Count Cheimon spoke again.
“I’ll reconsider your proposal. However, it’s not quite important enough to be called ‘valuable information.’”
“Apologies, Count. If you give me a little more time, I’ll try to bring back more useful intelligence.”
“Good. But don’t overwork yourself. I appointed you as Chief of Intelligence as a reward, not because I expect outstanding results.”
Though his words were warm, his eyes were colder than anyone’s—like a silent warning that failure would mean dismissal at any time.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Count.”
“Alright, you may leave.”
Thus ended the conversation between two men who presented different faces outwardly and inwardly.
During training in the Inner Castle’s Arena, Silvia approached him and said,
“We’ve received a message from Hans. The Count immediately rejected our proposal.”
Ethan nodded as if it were expected.
They’re just fighting amongst themselves to grab more of the development funds or whatever.
Their leader would never lower the entire Subordinate Village’s tax rate just to prepare for a low-probability threat.
The prediction was exactly right.
“How about attacking Dekun County in about two weeks? If we strike immediately, Hans might become suspicious.”
Ethan nodded.
That made sense. If news came out that we attacked right after Hans warned about the risk, it would look far too coincidental.
‘Two weeks isn’t a bad timeframe.’
It’s just enough to reassure the Count and dispel Hans’s doubts.
Just as he was nodding, a voice called from behind.
“Hmm. Child, are you the eldest son of the Ardan family?”
Ethan, sword in hand, turned without hesitation and slashed once.
A massive burst of flames engulfed the Arena’s interior.
The blazing fire consumed all training equipment, and the earth dried out and cracked under the intense heat.
The only one guaranteed safety within Ethan’s territory was Silvia.
‘Who was that?’
Silvia tilted her head, watching the raging flames.
The voice that had just spoken was unmistakably that of an old woman.
To her knowledge, there was no one in the Inner Castle with such a voice. The reason the Grand Duke struck without hesitation must have been because of that.
How had this person passed through the Inner Castle and even reached the Arena?
‘Was the security so lax?’
She thought it might be best to inform the Knight Commander about the Inner Castle’s defenses.
While she pondered the security,
“Heheh. Hot, isn’t it?”
The old woman wielding a staff stepped forward from within the flames.
Her clothes remained completely intact, as if untouched by the inferno.
No ordinary person could walk unharmed through such intense heat.
“Who are you?” Ethan asked bluntly.
“Ilya.”
“Ilya?”
The name was familiar.
More than familiar—it was well known.
‘The Enchanter Ilya?’
In his previous life, she had been a renowned mage, especially in the field of crafting magic.
The herbal potions he had handed to the Besos Marquisate were among the items she had shared the crafting methods for.
The Enchanter Ilya had another title besides that—Archmage.
A title reserved only for true mages who had reached rank 8 or higher. Ilya was one of those Archmages.
‘Wasn’t she a mage who didn’t get involved in worldly affairs?’
That was definitely the case in his previous life.
Among mages, she was the type who lived quietly, often called a ‘reclusive mage.’
Ilya was one such reclusive mage. Had it not been for the appearance of the Dragon Clan, she would have remained hidden from the world.
‘And she wouldn’t have died.’
The repeated wars had transformed crafting mages into battle mages, breaking through the transcendent rank 9.
In the end, she was pierced through the heart by Lucreon, the Dragon Commander of the Language Worshippers, and died.
‘Though that Dragon bastard eventually got his heart ripped out as well.’
Still, hearing news of her death had once brought a rare sadness.
As a crafting specialist and researcher, she had greatly aided humanity.
So why did such a mage appear before him now?
Ethan pondered briefly and came up with one reason.
‘Could it be because of the herbal potions?’
For now, it was only a guess.
Ethan glared at Ilya and growled,
“Stop pretending. Mage. I can already see through your true form.”
Ilya’s eyes gleamed with certainty.
This was no mere test.
“Heh, you’re pretty sharp for figuring that out.”
The old woman’s body slowly began to change.
Crack!
Crunch!
Her frame completely shifted, revealing a golden-haired girl who looked about ten years old.
Clearing her throat, she said,
“Ahem. Ahem! Let me reintroduce myself. I am Ilya.”
Silvia’s eyes widened at the sight—an old woman suddenly transforming into a young girl.
“Is that your true form?”
“Yes, a young girl.”
The keen eyesight of an eighth-rank mage was very sharp.
She immediately saw through the disguise that Silvia had worn for years as a male.
Ethan asked Ilya,
“Mage, why have you come to me?”
“I came to find the creator of the potion. Don’t bother lying—I already know everything. The herbs are genuine.”
A mage of rank eight could easily extract information, even if it involved the Besos Marquisate.
“Right. That’s me. Now, what is your business?”
At that moment, Ilya snorted excitedly and asked,
“How did you create an item exactly identical to the one I was researching? The ingredients are identical down to the last detail.”
Ilya had lived over a hundred years, but this was the first time she had experienced such an absurd thing.
At first, she thought someone had stolen her crafting secrets.
But that made no sense. How could her secret method, known only in her mind, be stolen—especially by a knight rather than a mage?
An incomprehensible phenomenon.
To explore the unknown, Ilya had come here personally.
Ethan chuckled at that.
“How? Because I saw the recipe you revealed in the future.”
But he couldn’t say that outright.
“You must have been researching the same item.”
“…Are you saying you were also researching that item?”
Someone who had been unconscious for over ten years suddenly created that item in less than three months since waking?
It was unbelievable.
Ethan shook his head at Ilya’s words.
“I never said I researched it myself.”
“Then?”
‘Hmm.’
Ethan looked at Ilya.
He had a suitable answer in mind—something that, if he said it off the cuff, she would probably accept and leave.
But—
‘It’s a shame to let this opportunity go.’
Their chance meeting was too precious to waste.
She was one of the famous crafting mages from his previous life.
While thinking hard, a good idea suddenly struck him.
‘If this goes well…’
Maybe he could catch this mage.
Ethan looked at Ilya and opened his mouth.