Rita's heart softened, and her voice followed suit. "What makes you so sure I'm destined to be a big deal?"
Kayden answered with certainty, "Because you're going to represent your world in the battlefield. That's how all the royals got their start. I know this." And considering how little ti it had been since Lania Kaia invaded Blue Star, Ravenclaw already had the qualifications. Kayden was convinced—Rita was bound to beco soone as significant as Mistblade Moon Sovereign.
Rita didn't dwell on the point. Instead, she smiled and asked, "So, what do you want?"
Kayden beca visibly nervous again. Her gaze flitted between Rita's eyes, unable to focus, as if she couldn't bear to look at her but didn't want to miss her reaction either. Rita patiently waited, and after a long pause, she finally heard Kayden whisper:
"I want to beco a noble. When you beco the ruler of your world, I want you to make one of your nobles."
Rita's expression didn't change in the slightest. There was no disdain, no ridicule—not even surprise. Instead, what Kayden saw in Rita's eyes was a mix of compassion and understanding, a gaze that felt almost... accepting.
For Kayden, her wish wasn't t with the judgnt she feared. Rita didn't think less of her for it.
From the very first ti Kayden had "leaked" information to her, Rita had already noticed Kayden's deep-seated resentnt toward the undead aristocracy. But resentnt often walks hand in hand with desire.
It was as if Rita's understanding gaze gave Kayden courage. Her eyes lit up, and her trembling voice gained strength as she continued:
— "I want to beco soone high and mighty, a noble. Even if I do nothing, even if I'm useless, I want to have everything beautiful in life."
— "I don't even want to buy a house in the slums! But I don't dare go to better places—I don't deserve them."
— "Apache keeps saying I'm wrong. She tells every undead deserves to enjoy good things. She always comforts by saying she was once a slave too. But now? Even undead lords don't dare look down on her. But she doesn't know... whenever those big shots co to the shop to buy things, they always laugh at her behind her back. They say, 'Apache doesn't forget her roots. Even as a master alchemist, she still takes in a slave as her apprentice.'"
— "I'm a stain! I'm Apache's stain."
— "I want to beco a noble. Any noble, anywhere. I want to be called Lady Kayden. I don't care what race you are—if you promise this, I'll give you the Death Suit piece."
By the ti she finished, Kayden's facade of maturity and composure had crumbled. She sobbed like a child, tears rolling down her face, splattering onto the old wooden table, her nose running embarrassingly.
Rita didn't try to comfort Kayden with empty words. It would have been pointless. Nivalis, perched on the table, looked utterly baffled. It was clear she didn't understand why Kayden was so upset.
Apache treated her past as a slave like a chapter of her life, just another ingredient in the potion of her journey. To her, life was as exciting as brewing potions. She viewed her transformation from a slave to a master alchemist as a testant to her resilience and ingenuity—a life story that no one could replicate. Apache was proud of it.
But Kayden didn't see it that way. She saw her slave origins as a stain, and by extension, herself as a stain on Apache's legacy.
From what Rita had observed of Apache so far, she likely considered her and Kayden's shared history to be a bond, a serendipitous connection. If their eting had been more dramatic, Apache might have even romanticized it as a fateful miracle.
And yet, Apache must have sensed Kayden's insecurities. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left their story out of her autobiographies.
Rita quietly pulled out so tissues and started wiping Kayden's face. One tissue after another piled up until there was a small mountain of them, enough to fill two bowls of soup dumplings. Only after exhausting her tears and anger did Kayden finally stop crying.
It was then that Rita spoke softly:
"I'd love to tell you that I can do this for you, Kayden. But you know it's impossible—just as I can never beco an undead noble.
"I'll go to the battlefield. I'll beco stronger and stronger. But I'm probably not going to be the kind of ruler, emperor, or sovereign you're imagining. I'm not cold or rational enough, nor am I benevolent or forgiving enough. I don't enjoy being followed, and I have no interest in ruling over anyone..."
Kayden sniffled and stared at Rita for a long ti. Her voice, still hoarse from crying, trembled as she said, "I thought you'd lie to . Or... or that you'd find so way to take it from . You really are... a good person, Ravenclaw."
After all, soone who could steal a Death Suit piece from Mistblade herself could certainly find a way to deal with her.
Rita gazed at Kayden, wanting to say, I'm not a good person at all.
The mont Kayden proposed the deal, countless scenarios had already raced through Rita's mind. Find more to read at My Virtual Library Empire
What's being traded? Why all the secrecy? Is it an SSS-tier artifact? A critical piece of information? A key to advancing a divine talent?
What if it was sothing she desperately needed, but Kayden's price was too high? What if it required betraying Blue Star, for example? What would she do with Kayden then?
Would stealing it after ten attempts work? Did she bring enough mory-wiping fruit combinations?
Smart as Kayden was, she'd led Rita through half of Dark City to get ho, ensuring many neighbors saw her along the way. Apache would definitely know Kayden had gone to et her. Could she cover it up if things went south? How would she deal with them?
But the mont Kayden revealed it was a Death Suit piece, Rita finally relaxed.
The item was valuable—no doubt. But not to the point of making her lose all sense of morality.
And it was only in that mont, when the stakes had been clarified, that the gentler part of Rita's mind took over: This isn't a battlefield, and we're not strangers. I can't treat Kayden so ruthlessly over an item—especially not Kayden, who's helped multiple tis and is Apache's student.
But that didn't an the darker thoughts that had flashed through her mind were any less real.
Just like how Nivalis had once noticed she could steal gold, yet chose to pretend she hadn't, Rita had chosen to let her keep that illusion.
But that choice was only possible because her skill, One-Person Party, had evolved, placing limits on her thievery. Those limits kept the fear she inspired manageable, making it easier for others to trust her. And so, Rita let Nivalis hold onto her secret, willing to play along.
She allied with Eclipse Vanguard not because of so noble ideal, but because it was the most orthodox and mainstream faction. No matter how selfish or opportunistic she was behind the scenes, her connection to the faction—bolstered by the military decree and Bear Cookies—cented her image as soone who loved her holand.
All her kindness had conditions. And she had no intention of changing that.
After a long silence, Rita finally said softly, "...I'm not as good as you think I am."
She wasn't wholly cruel, nor was she purely virtuous. She pursued power and profit, her heart constantly ticking away like a calculating abacus. And only occasionally—when it ca to those close to her—did she let herself stop and linger.
User Comments
0 comments from readers