Chapter 12

A few days after the first assassin, the visitor this time was not one but two. Their behavior was a bit different from before, as if they had received a higher-level assignment, beyond mere threats.

“Huh.”

Perhaps they were real assassins.

A sharp dagger flew at my neck. I rolled out of bed, stepping on the first assassin who had collapsed at my feet, unconscious.

Swish.

A thin dagger flew at the moment I moved.

I reached out, grabbed the blade, and lunged at the second assassin. As the hilt dug into the inside of his left eye, a pained gasp escaped the skilled assassin’s lips.

“Gasp.”

I had tried to handle it as quietly as possible, but with two of them, it got a bit noisy.

The second assassin, staggering to his feet, tried to catch his breath.

“Who are you...”

“Shh.”

I knocked him out with a blow to the head.

As expected, this was troublesome. Did they send two because the first one’s contact was cut off?

‘Should I call this stupid or efficient?’

I took the suicide pills from the mouths and sleeves of the two visitors, now feeling almost familiar with them. This made the total number of "Merciful Bites" six, didn’t it?

It matched the number of heads of the Merchant Guild. Indeed, many small things can add up to something significant. I should make sure to pass this information to the butler assassin.

“...These guys.”

What should I do?

My thoughts were brief, but my actions were quick.

I decided to send these two assassins to the butler assassin. No matter how I thought about it, that was the best option.

‘What about the next assassins who come?’

I couldn’t keep sending them to the butler assassin to deal with.

I opened the window, dropped the two bodies, and stepped onto the ground. It was raining.

Suddenly, I thought of the pot I had left on the front steps.

I was a bit worried because no sprouts had appeared in a few days. Maybe the rain would help the leaves come out, and I felt a bit hopeful.

Now, just two walls to climb...

“What is going on here, Miss Daisy?”

Huh.

As soon as I turned around, I met the gaze of the head maid standing at the back door.

She had just neatly squished a cigarette butt into a can and was staring wide-eyed at the fallen bodies.

“Who are they?”

This was too obvious. There was no way to avoid it!

“S-Spies.”

“Did you handle them alone?”

I couldn’t answer that question. The head maid, looking confused, rubbed her chin several times and sighed.

“When will they wake up?”

“In... a few hours...”

“I see. Follow me.”

I obediently followed the head maid back into the mansion.

I’m doomed.

‘What will happen to me? Am I going to be fired?’

I had just started to get used to being a maid. Where would I go if I left here?

But why should I be fired? I haven’t done anything wrong. Is being a bit tough a crime?

“Miss Daisy.”

“Yes.”

“To me, Miss Daisy, you are quite a significant person.”

I rolled my eyes to look at the head maid.

The back of her head, as calm and tidy as always, was the same as when I met her during the day.

“You are the first person to survive more than a week at Weatherwood Manor. Today’s incident has made me understand why you are the first. I want to thank you.”

Ah.

‘So the head maid didn’t know about the threats the other maids faced.’

It seemed strange to just let it go.

From the client’s perspective, wouldn’t the head maid be the most important target to take down?

Why didn’t the assassins threaten the head maid?

The head maid stopped in front of a bedroom on the second floor.

I didn’t recognize this door. It was none other than the bedroom of Sir Weatherwood.

“Would you like to meet the master, Miss Daisy?”

So suddenly?

Surprised, I turned my head, and the head maid gave a slightly bitter smile.

“I think you would be fine. Of course, the choice is yours. You can meet the master, or you don’t have to...”

“I will meet him.”

I looked at the head maid with the eyes of a loyal maid.

I will meet Sir Weatherwood. I will become closer to the Weatherwood family.

I will be appointed as a lifelong maid of the Weatherwood family. Lifelong means I won’t be fired!

I won’t be fired even if I beat up spies!

“I will definitely meet him.”

This was an opportunity given to me by heaven, or rather, the head maid.

I had no intention of giving up the chance to have a bed to sleep in and food to eat for three years.

“Answer politely.”

“I will definitely meet him.”

“You should say, ‘I will meet him.’ There’s something you need to know. Meeting the master comes with certain conditions. You must swear to me that you will not disclose any information about the master.”

A vow. The vow, which in the dictionary means ‘a firm resolution to do something,’ is a magical act.

Her slightly sunken gaze fixed on me. The head maid, with her characteristic calm and gentle voice, whispered to me.

“The vow here is a magical act that binds our souls. It’s not recorded in words or writing, but in our souls. It may sound trivial, but there are severe penalties for breaking it.”

The penalty for a soul-bound vow is only one thing.

“Death.”

“Yes. I thought you would know. It’s a rather unsettling condition, isn’t it?”

“Then who will cast the vow?”

“I will cast it on you myself.”

She’s right. It’s very unsettling.

Apart from the condition of meeting Sir Weatherwood, the head maid herself.

‘Can she cast a vow?’

Magic is a kind of sport.

There is a clear limit to the wall that can be climbed through effort and perseverance, and once a certain level is reached, it’s a game of innate talent and ingenuity.

However, magic is a sport where those with talent are extremely rare.

The ability to use magic is rare to begin with, and even if one only reaches an average level, it’s enough to live comfortably for generations.

The magic clinics and magic tool workshops in every town are almost like lifelong jobs for these people.

The vow itself is a low-level magic with low difficulty.

But whether it’s low-level or not, a magician is a magician.

All magicians receive special bonus points in the civil service recruitment process. It means that even if they are as incompetent as bugs, they can earn a living with the national treasury.

‘A magician doing just a maid’s job. That’s why she wasn’t taken by the assassins? She set a trap.’

A family where assassins come from time to time.

A family connected to the legacy of Dian Ket.

A family where a magician is employed as a head maid.

Weatherwood... It’s definitely a suspicious place.

“Extend your arm.”

I rolled up my sleeve and obediently extended my arm.

On the inside of my forearm, there were two lines. They were the marks of vows I had made during my life as Andert.

“...Are these all vows?”

A vow is imprinted on the soul, not the body.

So, even if I had changed from a male body to a female body, the marks of the vows imprinted on ‘me’ would not disappear.

The marks of the vows cannot be erased by any transformation magic, only hidden. The simplest magic often has the most powerful force.

“Miss Daisy, what did you do before?”

...A soldier?

Pretending not to hear, I turned my gaze, and the head maid shook her head. Soon, the mark on her arm appeared as a single line.

The two arms met as if they were one. A mystical aura enveloped us.

The head maid whispered to me.

“I request a vow from you. The condition is <not to disclose any secrets of the Weatherwood family>. Do you agree?”

“I agree.”

A long red line appeared in the air.

The line, which flickered fiercely like a flame, slowly descended onto our arms.

The sensation of the line touching my skin was scorching hot.

The line, which burned my skin mercilessly and settled, soon became a tattoo and seeped into my soul.

Every time I experience this, it feels unpleasant.

“Phew.”

The head maid let out a long sigh, and soon the bedroom door opened.

The bedroom was dark. The thick blackout curtains prevented even a sliver of moonlight from entering.

The head maid, who turned on the lamp next to the bed, gestured to me.

“Come closer and show respect, Miss Daisy.”

Why is this room so dark and quiet?

Why does this room not feel like a place where someone lives?

Why can’t I sense any other presence in this room besides the head maid and me?

Why doesn’t Sir Weatherwood ask for the reason when maids come to see him at this late hour?

Swallowing all these questions, I faced Sir Weatherwood on the bed.

“This is the head of our Weatherwood family and our master.”

Sir Weatherwood, in other words...

“This is Sir Gray Weatherwood.”

He was an egg.