Rhine’s Cunning and the Duke’s Suspicions

Alchemy workshops were far from ubiquitous; indeed, within the entirety of Lanburg County, those accessible to commoners could be counted on one hand. This scarcity stemmed from the incredibly broad scope of alchemical technology, encompassing everything from iron smelting and coin minting to artifact refinement—a core industry of immense economic and strategic importance. Every alchemist working in these workshops was required to be certified by the Imperial Alchemists’ Association, without which they could not practice their craft. Furthermore, their daily production was subject to rigorous official oversight and management. Any discovery of undeclared “side ventures” would lead to severe repercussions, ranging from imprisonment for minor infractions to immediate execution for graver offenses.

Despite being a Seven-Ring Archmage whose primary profession lay in civil engineering, Rhine’s alchemical prowess was arguably on par with, if not superior to, that of the Norman Royal Family’s esteemed alchemy masters. His sole deficiency, however, was the complete absence of a formal alchemy qualification certificate. In essence, he was an illicit alchemist, entirely self-taught through copied texts and possessing no official resources. Yet, in this clandestine domain, he had never encountered a rival whose skills surpassed his own. Rhine’s journey, incidentally, offered compelling evidence of the remarkably diverse career paths available in civil engineering. Had he not, after all, ascended to the role of an exclusive male servant? Even should he one day make his debut as a musical idol, it would hardly be astonishing.

“Hello…”

Rhine, stepping into the workshop for the first time, timidly offered a small wave. He harbored the notion that one ought to announce their presence upon entering such an establishment, yet the bustling crowd, flowing in and out, paid no mind to the lone young boy.

‘That was awkward, but it’s fine if no one saw. This place is actually much bigger than I thought. From the outside, I’d imagined a gruff shopkeeper simply hunched over a counter.’

Upon entering the workshop, Rhine was met with a multitude of distinct service windows: some showcased intricate glass apparatus, while others offered gleaming metal tableware. Before each, people queued with an almost unnerving orderliness.

‘Will this take all day? Is there no express lane or anything? I could perform the alchemy myself if they’d just sell me some raw materials—why must I endure this queue?!’

Rhine’s gaze swept across the bustling scene, ultimately halting with a flash of delight on a particular sign: [Cavendish Exclusive].

“Ah, now that’s more like it~”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he joined the very ranks of class privilege he had just been vehemently denouncing. As he would rationalize, ‘Adaptability is key; if there’s an advantage to be gained, why not seize it?’

“Hello.”

The bespectacled female receptionist at the window, her eyes still heavy with sleep, started when she heard a voice, quickly scanning her surroundings. Yet, she failed to spot any customer.

“Hello!”

Only after the second, louder call did she finally react, realizing the source of the sound was directly in front of her. Fixing her gaze, she noticed a single, unruly cowlick peeking over the edge of the counter.

“Oh, my apologies, my apologies. It’s my oversight for not noticing you. Miss, how may I assist you?”

The receptionist appeared to possess a touch of natural absentmindedness, oblivious even to the presence of a customer. However, given her pleasant demeanor, Rhine magnanimously decided to overlook her lapse.

“I need three convex lenses with a larger diameter and focal length, and three concave lenses with a smaller focal length and diameter. I must inspect the finished products myself. And I am not a miss! I am a boy!”

“Ah? Oh, certainly, certainly. Do you happen to have a credential from your manor, so we can proceed with your order?”

‘A credential? What in the world is that?’

‘Blast it! I knew it wouldn’t be this straightforward! Had I known a credential was required, I would have simply procured one myself.’

‘No matter. According to Anjemuel, I still possess a remarkably effective, if somewhat crude, method!’

Rhine, deliberately coiling his lithe, delicate frame, fixed his pitiable, pleading gaze upon the receptionist’s eyes. His dainty hand then gently tapped his own charming face.

“Big sister, I seem to have forgotten it at home. The Young Miss said she needed these, so could you possibly make an exception for me?”

The female receptionist froze for a fleeting moment as two involuntary streams of nosebleed trailed down her face. For a fragile yet remarkably resilient intern, a minor heart palpitation in such a situation was perhaps entirely understandable.

“Cough, cough, little sister… no, little brother, you’re putting me in a very difficult position. Is it truly, truly for the Young Miss?”

“It’s true~ Do you think I would ever lie to Big Sister?”

The young boy was on the verge of shedding ‘little pearls’—his tears—a desperate plea for salvation.

“No, no, no, please don’t cry! I’ll just report it to my superiors, little brother, please don’t cry.”

The female receptionist, utterly flustered, rose from her seat, looking as though she were the one at fault.

“It’s only a few lenses, isn’t it? Big Sister will conjure them up for you right away, alright?”

“Okay~”

‘Such a well-behaved boy! Today was absolutely worth it! Thank the heavens, Amen—’

The receptionist silently mused, wiping away her tears as she penned the order and sent it to the back. Even if an error occurred, the simple sale of a few lenses posed no real issue; any workstation could easily accommodate his modest request. Furthermore, the Young Miss of the ducal household frequently visited the workshop herself to procure various instruments. Should she fail to provide what the Young Miss required, and the blame fall from above, a mere receptionist like her would be utterly unable to bear the consequences. Crucially, the young boy was simply adorable.

‘Rhine: Plan successful~’

‘My acting skills remain as impeccable as ever,’ Rhine mused. ‘Come to think of it, isn’t this precisely what they call ‘malicious cuteness’? Whatever. Can integrity truly fill an empty stomach? If there’s profit to be gained, then by all means, let it be sold.’ He reminisced about his early days as a nascent mage, when he’d scoured countless shops simply to acquire a magic wand. In his relentless pursuit of a bargain, his footsteps had traversed nearly every corner of the industry. He meticulously scrutinized each wand, comparing prices with relentless fervor. “You claim it’s been this price for years,” he’d declare, “but the previous shop I visited offered such and such! I possess only this meager sum of money; now, tell me, will you sell it or not?!” He had always maintained a distinct separation between his integrity and his public image.

Ten minutes later…

Rhine, now in possession of several lenses and thoroughly content, offered a friendly wave of his small hand to the teary-eyed receptionist, bidding her farewell. He hadn’t even needed to settle the basic cost; it had been directly covered. A comely face could indeed prove remarkably advantageous at times, Rhine mused, leading him to wonder if his inherently handsome visage had always served as a universal pass. He recalled how, even in his past, when he would routinely kick open the observatory doors, not a single colleague had ever dared to impede him. ‘Ah, are those vermin still drawing breath?’ Rhine forcibly expelled these rather unsavory memories from his mind, stepped out of the alchemy workshop, and gazed at the sun, which was slowly descending over the city walls.

“It’s getting late. I’ll just grab some groceries and head back.”

Having taken merely two steps, his stride faltered momentarily at the crossroads, his eyes imperceptibly darkening.

“Hmph, what clumsy surveillance.”

Feigning complete unawareness, he continued his walk towards the bustling market.

“My lord, this is Rhine’s movement report. Please take a look.”

As the sun dipped below the western horizon, within the third-floor office of the ducal manor, a stern man accepted the report. His face utterly devoid of expression, he meticulously scanned the lines of text.

“He merely took a stroll along the main thoroughfare near the commercial district, stopped at the alchemy workshop to collect the lenses required by Audrey, then proceeded to the market before returning. No suspicious activity was noted.”

The middle-aged man gave a subtle nod, then drew back a corner of the curtain, his gaze falling upon Rhine, who stood nonchalantly outside the mansion gates, a bucket of crayfish in hand.

“Maintain your surveillance on him. Anyone connected to a mage is inherently untrustworthy. While we may not fully comprehend Audrey’s intentions, for the esteemed Duke’s eldest daughter to so readily place her trust in an outsider is simply too naive.”

“Understood.”

The Shadow Guard melted back into the room’s deep shadows.

A brand-new water-based fountain pen twirled effortlessly between the man’s fingers. His gaze, a frigid blend of suspicion and sharp analysis, never wavered. Even if he were to meticulously dissect Rhine’s very being, inch by painstaking inch, he doubted he would ever find true peace of mind.

“Audrey… you have indeed rendered a significant service this time. As a reward, perhaps we should invite another crucial contributor to the Cavendish family’s dining table—or rather, onto the public stage?”