Amber Sword

Viscount Begning himself also possessed Black Iron Peak strength, so being struck by an Ordinary person would normally just cause some pain. However, he didn’t expect the Nail Head Hammer picked up by the Merchant Lady to also be a ritual artifact. As it struck his forehead, it instantly burst open with a golden light.

Our poor Viscount cried out miserably and fainted on the spot.

"Pretending to be a Princess when you’re a grown man, that’s not how it’s done." Roman snorted twice, imitating Ben’s usual expressions, and mockingly remarked. The White Mist beside her looked at her speechlessly.

"However, this guy seems to have decent strength; your hit probably won’t kill him. He’ll wake up soon, so you better find something to tie him up." Even Contracted Spirit isn’t of kind-hearted nature; her obligation is simply to ensure her contract partner’s safety, not to instruct her on what’s right or wrong.

Roman readily agreed, quickly taking out a white silk rope from her bag to bind Viscount Begning tightly. Yet, still dissatisfied, she took out a purple silk rope and repeated the task. The White Mist sighed as she watched, for these two ropes also had remarkable origins. One was the ’Olemis Silk’, left by the Ice Queen, able to connect the Current Realm with the Land of the Dead. Mortals could walk along this rope to enter the land of the deceased; the other was also a legacy from the Witch Queen, ’Taiwo’s Hair’. Taiwo was the Titan King of Vorn, legendary for his immense strength, such that even his hair possesses the power to lift everything. This hair also serves to amplify strength, yet Roman used them for tying someone up, somewhat wasteful.

But absolutely solid too, as predicted by White Mist, Viscount Begning only fainted briefly before coming to. His Black Iron Peak constitution far exceeded ordinary people. Upon awakening, he immediately discovered he’d been tied up, not knowing what material the ropes were made of. Though they look no different from ordinary silk ropes, struggling proved completely futile.

"What does this mean, Miss Roman?" Begning lifted his head, angrily questioning. His pale face had a glaring red spot on the forehead, even with some drops of blood, like plum blossoms in snow, pitiful indeed.

"Capturing a prisoner, of course." Roman replied matter-of-factly.

"But I’m on the Princess’s side, Miss Roman, I’m Mr. Brand’s friend! Princess and Mr. Brand are currently trapped by Flame Temple conspiring with Northern nobles; they’re in danger, we must hurry to help them!" Begning shouted desperately, a sense of urgency so sincere that despite his innate charm pleasing to women, in this anxious state, it appeared quite genuine.

Roman raised her eyebrows, seriously asked, "You say Ben is in danger; just who are you?"

"I’m Viscount Begning! Miss Roman, don’t you remember me?" Begning sighed, on the brink of madness, yet in this position, he could only endure.

"Ah, I recall now! You’re Viscount Begning!" The Merchant Lady suddenly recognized him, then promptly swung the Nail Head Hammer onto his forehead.

"Ah—!"

The Holy Light Bullet had already been spent earlier, thus Begning wasn’t knocked out this time, yet the pain made him cry uncontrollably, "What the hell happened again? What did I say wrong now?" His head buzzed incessantly, as if a thousand people were conversing in his ear.

"This guy harbors bad intentions towards you; he’s deceiving you. However, how did you realize this?"

"Oh, I didn’t realize," Roman replied naturally, "I just loathe that Viscount Begning; how could he be more handsome than Ben? He must be a villain."

"I..." Viscount Begning felt bleeding inwardly. What kind of logic is this? For the first time, he sensed his smarts were useless, since reason meant nothing to her...

Though White Mist was speechless too, with her wisdom, she wouldn’t view matters so superficially. She nodded, "Your intuition is sharp; perhaps that’s why she chose you for this heritage. A witch must pierce through mists to see destiny’s threads, where the mind’s eye surpasses Mortal World’s sight."

"Then how should we deal with him?" The Merchant Lady felt a little smug momentarily.

"He wishes to deceive you, certainly with a hidden agenda. You could ask him what his original plan was. Humans lie, but cannot conceal their desires," White Mist suggested.

Viscount Begning turned pale; their conversation hadn’t avoided him, and he realized the Merchant Lady, though seemingly easily fooled, had next to her a truly wise presence.

Being someone who prided in intellect, preferring mental solutions over brute force, Begning always held disdain for those brutish soldiers. Yet when genuine misfortune fell upon him, he couldn’t help trembling with fear.

"Why are you deceiving me then?" Roman crouched beside him, head tilted, questioning the Viscount.

"I... I didn’t deceive you, Miss Roman, I swear what I said is true." Viscount Begning clenched his jaws tightly, knowing it was futile yet humanly holding onto a sliver of hope.

"Tell the truth!"

"I’m telling..." Begning started and suddenly realized something amiss, as if his mouth didn’t obey, inadvertently spilling his intentions.

The True Word Curse, his face now aghast looking towards Roman—had he known she was a witch earlier, he would’ve bolted the instant he laid eyes on her.

Unfortunately, regrets came too late.

"As expected, he’s a bad guy," Roman learned that Begning intended to deceive her to manipulate Ben, couldn’t help but lift the Nail Head Hammer making him clutch his head, crying and sniveling, "You mentioned Ben is some Earl, what’s all that about?"

Begning, nearly deformed from torment yet his mouth was still honestly speaking, hurriedly sobbed, "Miss Roman... Wuu wuu... Marquis Youxi told us Mr. Brand might genuinely be the real Earl of Yan Castle. People generally perceive him as a Highland Knight or merely a Tonyger’s bandit; however, the intel suggests these are unlikely, as Mr. Brand first surfaced in our view after Ridenburg... He’s certainly not a Highland Knight, but his every move carries noble air... This cannot be feigned, yet in noble circles I know of, he simply does not exist..."

"So, we assume he might be an unnamed noble descendant or using an alias. Now it appears Marquis Youxi’s judgment might be correct..."

"I see, White Sister, what’s your view?"

"This person seeks to harm that one, whereas you intend to assist him. Conspiracy forms like chains; you might as well inquire about the most feared link in his mind," White Mist spoke with no expression, looking at the flattened Viscount.

Begning’s face immediately showed fear, alarm, and unwillingness.

"I..."

"Oh? How about satisfying Roman’s curiosity?"

...

(PS: 3000 words today, taking a break, preparing for end-of-month explosion. Tomorrow still Little Roman and White Mist’s adventure!) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendation tickets, monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)