#22: A Tight Spot — I’ll Become an Elegant Villainess! (Wn)

After finishing my meeting with Count Schönheite, I made plans in the carriage back to Lineage.

I had to contain Father’s movements before harm came to the territory’s people who cared for me.

“We do not have time to prepare at length. In a few days at most, Father will probably learn that the Third Assembly failed to crush me.”

“It seems spies have already infiltrated Lineage and the surrounding area as well.”

“Would it be difficult to restrict his movements?”

“I think we can limit them to a certain extent, but there are limits to that as well. We still do not have a full grasp of the situation. It also appears that spies from a third faction have mixed in among them.”

“A third faction?”

“We have confirmed that spies connected to the royal family have entered the area.”

“People connected to the royal family…”

I found myself impressed by how quickly they were moving.

Within this corrupt noble society, I had the impression that the royal family was relatively more concerned with the people.

There were probably conscientious people inside it who had pride and dignity.

However, now that I wanted to lock down information, the presence of an unconfirmed third faction was making it harder to deal with the situation.

“If it has come to this, then a preemptive strike is our only option. Speed is prized in war. We strike first, seize the enemy’s weakness, and leave them unable to move. Is there any information that might serve as a weakness? Something Father is hiding, perhaps?”

“A few possibilities come to mind.”

“If the information is only half-baked, there is a high chance it will only pour oil on the fire and accomplish nothing. I would rather have something that can stop his breathing in a single blow.”

“Please give me a little time. I will investigate Lord Ravel’s estate.”

The next day, Vincent and Ciel departed to investigate Father’s estate, taking along the former rioters who were being trained as agents.

I spent that day doing the farm work that had become part of my daily routine.

I used household magic to clear wasteland and water the fields.

Thanks to the land-clearing work and employment support, Lineage had become able to harvest crops of a quality not inferior to the surrounding regions.

It seemed the soil had more than enough nutrients secured by now, and it would already be fair to call it a proper farm.

If we could keep up land-clearing work at this pace, then even a future in which one of the magical kingdom’s largest farms was built would not be just a dream.

“Even now, I still cannot believe it. It is as if this was never a land barren of crops.”

It was lunchtime.

As I ate the bread Vincent had made that morning and sent with me, the one who spoke to me was an elderly woman.

“Thanks to you, Lady Mythia, this land has changed. My grandson is also very happy that he is able to work on the farm. And for something provided by a noble house to people like us who lack magical aptitude, the conditions are unbelievably easy to work under.”

“No, the other nobles are the strange ones. This is only normal.”

“In this country, the only one who treats those without magical aptitude as normal people is Lady Mythia. I truly do not know how to thank you…”

The old woman broke into tears there.

The painful memories she had lived through showed clearly in them.

(I am only doing what is normal for a human being.)

Even so, there were many people in this country who could not enjoy even that normalcy.

History and tradition.

Warped values and vested interests built up over many long years.

(I have to crush them. As a strong and noble villainess, I will thoroughly smash everything I do not like.)

Renewing my resolve, I swung the hoe.

I worked plenty until sunset, then walked home with a pleasant sense of fatigue.

Usually Ciel and Vincent came to pick me up, but not today.

That was because they had gone to investigate the Lumiore estate in order to launch a preemptive strike against Father.

Being by myself felt a little lonely.

I thought it was strange.

Back when I was confined, I had not felt anything even when I was alone.

Even the familiar house somehow felt different and distant today.

It was exactly the same, and yet I felt as if little things were gradually different.

As if I had wandered into a wrong world, different from reality.

(Wait. Think calmly. Is it really the same as always?)

I felt that there was something there I must not overlook.

Carefully, I checked the positions of the furnishings.

They seemed unchanged from the morning when I had left.

And yet I could not be certain that they truly had not changed.

To begin with, just how accurately was I able to grasp the positional relationships of the things around me?

Even if something were slightly different, I probably would not notice.

If that was the case, then this very attempt to identify a difference was of questionable meaning.

(For now, I need to leave here and rejoin someone—)

I started to rise, intending to rejoin the former rioters who were guarding the house and its surroundings.

However, by the time I made that decision, everything was already too late.

The cold touch of a blade laid against the back of my neck.

“Do not move. Move even a little, and I will kill you.”

An emotionless voice sounded in my ear.

It was at that moment that I heard the sound of a doorknob turning.

The door opened, and a man entered the room.

He was a tall man with long arms and legs.

He was accompanied by a man and a woman who appeared to be his close aides.

“The one guarding you is sleeping in the next room. You would be better off not expecting help to come.”

Saying that, the man sat down on the sofa opposite me.

Crossing his legs, he lit a pipe with practiced movements.

White smoke swayed from the tip of the pipe.

Feeling the cold blade at my neck, I consciously tried not to move.

However, that was not nearly as easy as I had expected.

The more I focused on staying still, the more my body shifted ever so slightly and troubled me.

If I made even the slightest strange movement, the blade would slit my throat.

One wrong step, and my life would end right there.

The surging fear and the cold sweat running down me.

Even so, I was able to remain composed because the villainess I admired existed within my heart.

That person would act with nobility and grace even in this situation.

She would find a way out and make a cool escape from this desperate situation.

I would not give up, and I would not lose my composure.

“It is a job I do not enjoy. Killing a child like this, I mean.”

The man said in a cold tone.

“Then would you let me go?”

“Sorry. This is work for me too.”

“I am also speaking of work. If you let me go, I will pay you twice what Father paid.”

“That is an interesting thing to say. Are you actually capable of preparing that much?”

“Please open the case in the cupboard at the back.”

At my words, the man signaled with his eyes to the woman standing diagonally behind him.

The woman nodded, opened the cupboard, and then cautiously opened the case while remaining alert for traps, before sharply drawing in a breath.

She brought the contents of the case to the man’s feet and spread them out.

The lined-up gold coins glittered as they reflected the light of the magic lamps.

“And if I said that was still not enough?”

“There is a hidden door in the back of the cupboard. Inside it, there is another quantity of gold coins equal to twice that amount.”

The woman checked the back of the cupboard.

She found the hidden door and gave the man a signal.

“Impressive. Now I understand why the client wants you erased.”

The man said,

“But you picked the wrong opponent. What matters is trust, not money. Someone who has betrayed once will betray again and again. I do not trust people like that. More than anything, I do not want to become that sort of person myself.”

“Even if I could prepare an even greater sum?”

“When people beg for their lives, they lie without any regard for dignity or shame. I decided long ago not to trust that kind of talk.”

It seemed he was not someone who could be won over.

He was probably an assassin of considerable renown in the underworld.

That said, I had anticipated even this much.

If there was a chance, it would come only once—

I lowered my face, quietly steadied my heart, and waited for that moment.

From the gap in my bangs, I matched my breathing to the movements of the woman opening the case of gold coins with a sidelong glance.

Then the man suddenly noticed something and said sharply,

“Wait. Do not open it.”

However, his words did not make it in time.

White smoke spread from the case.

As the blinding white smoke spread, I slammed my magic power into the assassin behind me.

A violent burst of magical pressure unleashed from point-blank range.

I stripped away his consciousness and seized the blade, then spun around to take down the man sitting on the sofa—

But in the very next moment, I was pinned to the floor.

A blow from somewhere I had not expected.

My child’s body creaked under an adult’s weight.

I struggled desperately, trying to resist, but I could not escape.

When the smoke cleared, the tall man was still sitting on the sofa as though nothing had changed.

The ones pinning my body down were two men.

There were also four other men surrounding me.

(Hidden reserves—)

In addition to the ones I had recognized, six assassins had been concealed in this room.

That was clearly excessive force.

Father must have prepared everything to make absolutely certain that he killed me.

The moment the fight began, my defeat had already been decided.

A descending blade.

There were still so many things I wanted to do.

(Not here—)

It was just as I shut my eyes in terror of the approaching death.

A cold wind brushed past the tip of my nose.

The sound of a kicked blade rolling across the floor.

What I saw when I opened my eyes was the backs of those people, dressed in suits.

“We are late, Lady Mythia.”

Vincent, straightening the collar of his butler’s uniform.

And beyond him, the former rioters in suits stood as if to shield me.

“Subdue them.”

The man sitting on the sofa said.

The assassins attacked all at once.

Dodging the slashing blades, Vincent threw one of the assassins.

Using the body of the man he had thrown, he neutralized one, then immediately kicked another who had already closed in beside him.

Beautiful martial skill polished to the level of art.

Beside him, the former rioters worked in coordination to neutralize the assassins.

Because they had grown up unable to use magic, they had often had occasion to use their bodies, so they must originally have had an aptitude for hand-to-hand combat.

In addition, they held special weapons in their hands unlike anything I had ever seen.

Umbrellas and canes fitted with tranquilizer needles.

Bulletproof suits woven with enchantment magic and magic fibers.

Shoes with blades springing from the heels.

Rings carrying high-voltage current.

“W-who are these people…?”

One of the assassins muttered blankly.

Faced with unexpected enemies and special weapons, the assassins were driven back without being able to do anything.

“Fortunately, we had at least managed to train them to the point where they could handle the weapons at a minimum level.”

Vincent said while tugging up the cuff of his glove.

“There is still quite a lot lacking, of course, but I believe they can at least be counted as the minimum level of fighting force.”

“…”