Chapter 81. The Insider

"That person... "

Among those who ran over at the servants' screams was one of Romandor's subordinates. Wasn't he the one who killed Collin in the Memelov trade group heading to Shieron?

"Sir Ian, that person caused trouble in the Shieron Mountains."

"That person? Are you sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes. Even the killing of Collin."

Ian looked at Mrs. Memelov again. She was briefly surprised by Ian's golden eyes, then started complaining in a shrill voice. However, her hand never left Clark's shoulder.

"I already told you, I hate everything about Memelov!"

"So you interfered with the trade group?"

"I can't be grateful, but what is this nonsense!"

"He was the one who attacked first. Since he's still alive, stop making a fuss."

At that, Mrs. Memelov confirmed that Clark was breathing faintly. Slowly, her breathing also stabilized.

"How did you know Collin was one of our plants?"

"People were disappearing in droves from the illegal gambling den. It coincided with the news of Sir Ian's attack. When the person who worked there reappeared after going missing, it was a natural suspicion."

"What about the viscount?"

"What do I know? That old stone. The viscount didn't give a single instruction regarding the investigation. He might not even know Collin worked there."

While it was expected, the viscount's reaction was even more absurd than anticipated. The Viscount of Memelov had essentially ignored Ian's ambush, despite it being an incident involving his own subjects.

"Are you lovers?"

"...No, we're not."

"Hmm. Really?"

No one would believe it based on the atmosphere between the two. Romandor was only curious as to what was going on, subtly observing. Ian nodded, indicating he had made a decision.

"Move this person to an empty room."

"Yes, Sir Ian."

Following Ian's order, the soldiers carried and supported Clark. Mrs. Memelov showed a flustered expression but couldn't protest. If the servant who accompanied her on the outing fainted and returned, it would certainly raise suspicion in the mansion.

"I can't say I knocked him out, can I?"

"...I didn't say anything."

"Good. Then, let's carefully align our stories, madam."

Ian smiled and extended his hand to her. Mrs. Memelov followed Clark's retreating figure with her eyes before taking Ian's hand and standing up. Ian slowly untied the bindings on her wrists.

"Madam desires freedom, and I desire tribute. But as long as the viscount's brother resists, there's no guarantee I'll receive compensation later."

If Mrs. Memelov's actions were ever exposed, it would only complicate matters. She could be charged with complicity or even aiding in the viscount's murder.

She understood what Ian was getting at.

"...The gula trade, right?"

Mrs. Memelov's words brought a confirming smile to Ian's face. He had noticed that despite her difficult life, she was very perceptive and quick with calculations. In fact, her mind seemed to work in a remarkably sharp way.

"Yes. I want to maximize the first round of profits from there."

"You want me to act as a go-between."

"More than that, I want you to put effort into persuading the viscount. Honestly, there's no clear solution for Memelov right now, is there? The path to the Hawan Kingdom is blocked, and so is the path to Shieron. It's a perfect setup for starvation."

"Speaking of which, were the Hawan Kingdom bandits also your doing, Sir Ian? If so, it was a bit excessive."

"No, that wasn't our doing."

"Then it must be the grace of the gods. I'm envious."

The lady rubbed her bruised wrists and widened her eyes. She then instructed the servant standing behind her.

"Bring two dry cloths. Clean ones."

"Huh? Ah..."

Ian raised an eyebrow, and the servant quickly bowed and retreated. It seemed he was planning to refill the drug powder.

"So, I hope you'll cooperate as much as possible until the deal is complete."

"Don't worry about that. I've already waited through several winters. Can't I endure a few more days?"

"You waited through the winters?"

"Yes."

Ian suddenly felt the depth of the lady's hatred. Winter was the season of death. Many people died during this period, and the funeral procedures were undoubtedly difficult due to the snow and wind.

It was the perfect time to quietly bury the viscount's death.

"Take good care of Clark."

"...Of course. Oh, and I'll give you a bit of gula when you leave. You can say you traded Clark for gula."

It wasn't a satisfactory solution, but it was the most plausible one for now. There was no need to explain why the servant fainted, and once the price was paid, the Viscount of Memelov would try to maximize its use.

He would experience the true value of gula in the process.

In market terms, it was a kind of 'taste test.'

'Besides, if any problems arise, Mrs. Memelov can be used as a hostage.'

Ian, having thought this through, quickly instructed Hana. The sky was getting darker. If she left now, she would only reach the mansion in the middle of the night. Any later, and it might raise suspicion.

"Hana, bring a small bag of gula to the main gate."

"Yes, Master."

"Prepare the carriage! The lady is leaving."

"Yes! Prepare the carriage!"

While everyone was preparing the carriage, the servant who brought the dry cloths hesitantly touched the glass lid. The lady firmly pushed his hand away.

"I'll do it."

She covered her nose and mouth with one hand and carefully moved the powder with the other. Given that Beric fainted just from the smell, the drug must have been highly toxic.

"But if he dies suddenly, it will raise a lot of suspicion."

"I already told you, he won't die from one dose. The liquid component neutralizes it, so he won't collapse like that."

Instead, he would experience a dream that blurred the line between reality and fantasy. It had a side effect of gradually sapping his strength through sleep, like being possessed by a succubus. Of course, that was the lady's intention.

Click.

The lady carefully closed the powder box and put it in her inner pocket. Then, she walked out of the corridor as if she had no more business to attend to. Ian followed her to see her off.

"Clark, I won't see him for a long time. Is it okay not to see him off?"

"I'll handle it. And... we're not like that."

Ian simply nodded.

"One of my people will escort you to the mansion. Please, be careful."

"Good news, Sir Ian."

She received a light kiss on the back of her hand and closed the carriage door. Suddenly, she thought of the bruise that had spread from her ankle. Would she be safe tonight if she returned like this?

"Madam."

"I'm fine. For now."

As Ian was about to add something, Mrs. Memelov shook her head, indicating it was fine. She had always thought she had no resemblance to her mother, but every time she endured her husband's beatings, she unintentionally realized the dryad blood in her veins.

"...For now, I can endure it."

"We're leaving."

Neigh!

Creak.

The lady looked back through the small window, exchanging final pleasantries with Ian. Romandor watched the carriage leave the mansion, wiping his face with a handkerchief.

"What the hell is going on..."

"Today, the lady agreed to support the gula trade in exchange for us overlooking the powder box."

"Is that powder box poisonous? What about Beric!?"

"It won't kill him in one dose. He'll just have a good dream."

"Eh? Really? He was cursing and swearing just now."

"Ian, I think I know what a good dream means to Beric."

Ian smiled and entered the mansion. From the upper floor, a loud thumping noise echoed. At this hour, there was only one person who could be causing such a commotion.

"Open the door! What are you trying to do!"

Bang! Bang!

Clark's cries of anguish seeped through the door. The servants, worried about the door breaking, stepped back. In the end, the only ones who stepped forward were the Chalier warriors.

"Should we knock him out again?"

"It's really noisy at night."

"Fine. I'll talk to him."

Ian stopped them with a gesture and approached the door. Seizing a moment of silence, he tried to explain the situation to Clark.

"Your name is Clark, right?"

"...Sir Ian?"

Creak!

But Clark's desperate cries came first. He was almost pleading, shaking the doorknob and begging.

"Sir Ian, please, please save me. Lady Rien did all this for us. If it weren't for her, dozens of lives would have been lost to the master's hands..."

Every time the viscount beat the servants to death, the lady would willingly step in to take their place. It was a well-known fact in the mansion. Despite her usually cold demeanor, everyone was grateful to her.

If not, this affair would have reached the viscount's ears long ago. The lady would have been torn limb from limb.

"Did the lady do that?"

"Yes, yes... I swear to the gods. So please, I beg you. Just let me see if she's safe, even if it's just her face..."

"The lady has just returned to the mansion."

"...Really?"

"Yes. Your life is now a bargaining chip in our mutual interests, so just wait quietly. Causing a commotion will only burden the lady."

From inside, only the sound of sobbing could be heard. Ian, not expecting a response, only instructed the servants to guard the door.

* * *

The atmosphere at the Memelov mansion was tense. The lady, who rarely went out, had not returned by sunset.

The viscount didn't mention the lady openly, but he had created a very threatening atmosphere.

"Ah, there she is!"

A faint light in the distance. The silhouette of a carriage pulled by two horses was visible. The servants quickly ran out to greet the lady, who looked a bit tired as she stepped down.

"Why are you so late?"

"What about Clark?"

"Have you eaten?"

"Madam, the, master is... "

They were worried about what he was waiting for, but they had to stop talking when the master appeared.

"Rien."

"I'm sorry. I'm very late."

"What on earth is going on?"

"I have a lot to talk about."

"Right now! Tell me."

The servants all flinched at the viscount's loud, angry shout. But the lady smiled and shook her pocket, as if to say, 'Look at this.'

"I traded Clark for gula. Sir Ian wouldn't budge on the price, so I had to haggle, which took time."

The viscount, who had been seething, paused for a moment.

The lady's visit was a setup for the gula trade, not the actual deal. Yet, she had brought gula back so quickly.

"Dear?"

Mrs. Memelov smiled brightly. She knew exactly what the first step of Ian's plan as a go-between was.

"Shall we try a little of this? I have a lot to talk about, so let's do it together."