A Calculated Seizure and a Troubled Heart

Three hired carriages stood in a row before the workshop’s entrance. Workers scurried in and out, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and gloom. They systematically emptied the workshop, carrying out stacks of tanned leather that soon filled all three carriage compartments to the brim.

Saranya sat cross-legged directly in the doorway, her gaze sharp and cold. She watched over the frantic tanners and their assistants, all the while using a scrap of leather to meticulously wipe bloodstains from the sole of her boot.

A man, dressed as a tanner and bearing a slight resemblance to Short-Hair, hurried out. He approached Saranya with a hesitant, almost prim demeanor, his face a mask of trepidation as he wrung his hands. Before he could utter a single word, Saranya’s icy voice cut through the air.

“Is everything cleared out?”

“Y-yes, yes, my lady… I’ve already paid the carriage fees as well…”

This man was Short-Hair’s younger brother, the workshop’s second-in-command.

Saranya flung aside the scrap of leather she held, making the man flinch visibly.

“Good. You are indeed far more suited to managing this workshop than your idiotic brother.”

“He’s ignorant, arrogant, can’t hold his tongue, and his legs aren’t even useful anymore…”

Saranya slowly turned her graceful neck, her gaze turning malicious as she lifted her head to fix her eyes on the meek man.

“How truly unfortunate, your brother… he accidentally fell into an acid vat for a swim, and now he’s crippled.”

“His face is ruined, his throat burned, so from now on, you, his younger brother, will have to take good care of him, won’t you?”

Under her penetrating stare, the man’s pupils trembled violently, and his knees wobbled uncontrollably. He quickly nodded at her.

“Oh, y-yes, yes, absolutely! Yes, it was entirely my brother’s own carelessness, ah… truly… truly unfortunate!”

“Hmm, how sensible. I appreciate that. So, we’ll… keep in touch, then?”

“Y-yes, my lady! Of course! I am always willing to serve you!”

Saranya waved her hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly. The man scurried back into the workshop and firmly shut the door.

She let out a long breath, gently cradling her head and taking several deep breaths.

The risk of openly seizing a property in broad daylight was simply too great. Instead, after some ‘friendly negotiation,’ she had the Redwater Gang successfully take over the tanned leather transportation for the workshop. This arrangement allowed her to seize all future raw materials and finished products, including the Bloodsail Alliance’s leather, under the guise of ‘escorting goods.’

Naturally, the Redwater Gang would collect a transportation fee, the exact amount of which equated to the workshop’s entire profit. In essence, she would leave the workshop just enough for basic maintenance to prevent its collapse, but not a single coin more.

Concurrently, by copying the workshop’s ledgers, delivery manifests, and personnel rosters, the Redwater Gang also acquired its operational data.

If Saranya wished, she could easily alert the Shadowscale Gang, using this operational data as a basis to uncover—or even fabricate—serious charges. These could include tax evasion, circumventing official inspections, or illegally selling contraband, all of which could be anonymously reported to bring down the entire workshop.

Given Vero City’s increasingly strained financial situation, the City Council was more than willing to use legitimate pretexts to punish or even outright confiscate citizens’ property. Thus, Saranya could leverage such accusations to threaten the operators of any small faction, thereby gaining de facto control over their enterprises.

All in all, the operation had been a resounding success; she ought to open a barrel of mead to celebrate upon her return.

Yet, she found herself in no mood for celebration, her current state far from well.

She couldn’t even control her own emotions, behaving like a deranged sadist in front of Vireta and her other subordinates, which was utterly mortifying.

Crucially, she couldn’t fathom how she had become like this.

What exactly had transpired during the period she had blacked out on the second floor of the Tidal Mirror Hall?

‘That Lenix… she must have done something to me…’

“Mama, what was wrong with you just now?”

Vireta reached out, gently placing a hand on Saranya’s shoulder. Startled, Saranya instinctively raised her hand and forcefully pushed her away.

“Don’t… I’m sorry, just… don’t touch me. I’m fine.”

“But you’re clearly not fine—”

“I said I’m fine!”

“Ugh!”

Vireta flinched, her body trembling, and slowly lowered her head.

“As a former Captain, you should know that the sisters of the Night Lilies are supposed to look out for each other, right…?”

The young maiden, as if having made a profound decision, suddenly lifted her head. She swept aside the blue strands from her forehead, her grey eyes meeting Saranya’s with unwavering resolve.

“I am not only your daughter now, but also the Grand Captain of the Night Lilies. Both publicly and privately, I have a duty to care for you, Mother!”

“I may be weak, but I still want to help look after you. You can’t always push me away!”

“Eh…?”

Saranya’s pupils flickered, her gaze softening slightly.

For the first time, she began to genuinely consider the feelings of the young girl before her. She remained silent, her eyes fixed on Vireta’s.

“W-what is it, Mama?”

Beneath those innocent grey eyes, she perceived the untainted soul of a maiden. She saw a naive ideal: the belief that with enough effort, everything could slowly mend itself.

It was something she once possessed, now long lost and utterly gone.

‘So that’s it…’

A sudden realization dawned on Saranya, and she suddenly understood why she had blurted out, “Vireta is my daughter.”

In a way, those words were not mistaken at all. Vireta was the complete version of her former self, the unbroken image she once held. She had never truly helped Vireta; rather, she had been helping her past self.

With this sudden clarity of mind, the world around her seemed to expand.

Having recognized this truth, she now had a reason to persevere.

She was not entirely bereft; both Vireta and the Night Lily Knights needed her to recover her strength.

Even if she were torn in two—one half subservient to Kaelan’s ‘love,’ the other consumed by frenzied hatred—it no longer mattered.

At the very least, she remained a glorious Night Lily Knight, a truth that would never change. Whether with sword or with magic, she would hunt down the corrupt villains and monstrous beasts, just as she always had.

She would control Vero. She, Saranya Kerfen, would become Vero’s sole ruler. This was no longer her master’s ambition; it was her own.

And that, she realized, was enough to sustain her continued existence.

“Vireta, thank you. You are a good girl.”

A faint smile touched her lips as Saranya gracefully rose and leapt into one of the carriage compartments.

“I think… it might be best to ask Cecilia to examine me. Perhaps Miss Doctor can identify what’s wrong.”

“Then I’m coming with you!”

The coachman cracked his whip, and the Redwater Gang’s caravan began its return journey.

Vireta leaned against the carriage, slowly closing her eyes as she drifted off to sleep. Saranya, too, felt the contagion of drowsiness, yawning as she yearned to rest on the soft, tanned leather.

“Saranya.”

‘!?’

Within her mind, that familiar, cool voice resonated after a long absence. Its tone was indifferent, yet commanding, just as it had always been.

Saranya’s weariness instantly vanished. She raised a hand to her lower abdomen, which now glowed with nascent magic and felt faintly warm. As she felt the subtle pain the magical patterns brought, a flicker of longing appeared in her eyes.

“M-master… what are your commands?”

It was her Master! Her Master had finally contacted her! And their emotions had returned to a stable state!

At the thought of a potential reunion with her Master, Saranya was overcome by an uncontrollable euphoria. She envisioned Kaelan’s delicate form and those captivating crimson eyes, her breathing quickening instantly as she began to repeatedly lick her parched lips.

“Saranya, I’ve arrived at the tavern. Return to me at once.”

That voice, like a sweet poison, enveloped Saranya in a gentle embrace of pale purple magic. In an instant, it made her abandon all her convictions, leaving only Kaelan in her heart.

“Y-yes… yes~ Master, wait for me…”

She had to have her Master; her Master belonged to her alone. She needed to see them immediately, to fulfill their every desire, to make her Master happy.

For she loved her Master.

She loved Kaelan, even though she knew it was wrong.