A Rabbit’s Anguish and a Kingdom’s Affairs

“Please bring the Balyaas Rabbit into this room now,” Domu instructed. “Then, Mr. Tule and the others will simply need to wait outside for a moment.” Having made her request, Domu was naturally prepared to help Mr. Tule complete his mission.

“No problem at all, no problem!” Mr. Tule exclaimed. “I’ll have Philly bring the dear one right over! Please wait, please wait, my friend!” Despite his plump physique, Mr. Tule moved with surprising speed. He snatched his wig back onto his head and vanished from the room in the blink of an eye.

After a brief wait, Philly entered the room, cradling the Balyaas Rabbit. Mr. Tule did not follow, evidently choosing to remain outside.

Following Mr. Tule’s prior instructions, Philly gently placed the Balyaas Rabbit on the table. She glanced at Domu, then tapped the rabbit, which lay prone on the surface, before reluctantly pushing open the door and exiting.

Inside the room, only the Balyaas Rabbit and Domu remained.

No, to be precise, it was a trembling rabbit, utterly terrified of its impending fate, and a woman consumed by hesitant awkwardness.

Outside the room, three figures stood in anxious anticipation. Mr. Tule, in particular, fretted over the possibility of Domu’s failure, wondering what would become of his cherished wish.

Philly, meanwhile, worried about the little rabbit’s safety. While she had no idea what Mr. Tule and the handsome young man intended to do, Mr. Tule’s expression suggested something rather extreme.

Phil’s concern was different: what if the fearsome Balyaas Rabbit, a magical creature, were to lose control within the manor? Even with the demigod-level expert, Lady Domu, present, the estate could suffer significant damage. As the head guard, he would bear immense responsibility. Ever since his sister had carried the rabbit into the pig cart, Phil’s heart had been heavy with worry.

As the three were consumed by anxiety, a sudden, ear-splitting shriek erupted from the room. It pierced the heavens, laden with humiliation, terror, plea, and despair. Not only the three outside the door, but everyone across the entire manor heard this cry brimming with negative emotions. It was not a human roar, but the gut-wrenching wail of some creature, forcing people to halt their tasks and look around, wondering where such an emotionally charged sound could have originated.

As the shriek faded, the room’s door slowly opened. Mr. Tule and the other two gazed at Domu, clad in full armor, with fearful eyes. Trembling, they peered into the room from the doorway, dreading what horrors they might behold. Given the recent scream, a blood-soaked scene, as terrifying as hell itself, would not have surprised them in the slightest.

The scene inside the room, however, was not what they had imagined. Nothing had changed; the Balyaas Rabbit, which had been trembling on the table moments before, now lay sprawled like a limp pelt. Its three red eyes were dull and lifeless, conveying an expression of utter resignation.

“The mission is successfully completed, Mr. Tule,” Domu announced, opening the door.

“I hadn’t anticipated such a violent reaction; it was quite unexpected. However, the task is done, and it should no longer be of use to you. Furthermore, its emotional state is rather unstable at the moment, so I shall take it with me for now.” She disregarded the peculiar expressions on the three faces before her, simply scooping the Balyaas Rabbit from the table into her arms as she spoke to Mr. Tule.

“The items Mr. Tule requested are on the table,” she continued. “As for the commission, I’ll trouble you to send it to my residence. I must take my leave now.” Although completing Mr. Tule’s task had required little effort from Domu, she still felt a strange weariness.

Without waiting for Mr. Tule’s reply, Domu exited the room on her own. ‘To think my very first mercenary mission involved uncovering a rabbit’s pubic hair!’ she mused. A profound sense of conflict churned within her. Still, the reward for this task was substantial. Entrusting it to Mr. Tule, Domu’s goal of establishing her reputation should, in all likelihood, be successfully achieved.

Domu slowly made her way out of the manor. It was only then that she realized the folly of requesting her commission be delivered to her residence. The phrase had sounded undeniably cool, yet she currently possessed not a single coin. She couldn’t even buy Dove the cake she had promised. ‘I should have just forgone the bravado and asked for an advance payment then and there,’ she thought, certain Mr. Tule wouldn’t have refused. As Domu wallowed in regret, Phil’s voice suddenly cut through her thoughts.

“Wait… wait a moment, Lady Domu!” Phil called out, waving his arms as he ran towards her.

Domu halted, turning to face the approaching Phil.

“Lady Domu!” Phil panted. “This is a top-tier VIP credit card from the Bellan Merchant Guild, Mr. Tule asked me to give it to you. It has an unlimited overdraft limit! Mr. Tule also said to assure you that the agreed-upon matter will be perfectly fulfilled. It’s a promise between friends.” Phil produced a black card embroidered with golden flowers and extended it to Domu.

“Please tell Mr. Tule that I thank him for his generosity, my friend.” Domu accepted the card, a flicker of joy in her heart as she glanced at it.

“Please take care, Lady Domu!” Phil bowed slightly, a gesture of respect.

“Farewell, Phil.”

Domu walked aimlessly, the Balyaas Rabbit clutched in her arms. Originally, she had intended to undertake mercenary missions for money and to build her reputation, but it seemed both objectives were now unexpectedly resolved. ‘But what about this little rabbit?’ she wondered. Domu brought the rabbit, its face a picture of utter despair, before her eyes and gently swayed it. The rabbit, having recovered a sliver of its senses, saw the ‘demon’ who had just… done things to it. Despair shone in its three eyes, and its hind legs instinctively clamped together.

Observing the little rabbit’s reaction, Domu felt a pang of embarrassment. After all, she had just subjected it to something rather extreme, hadn’t she? ‘Perhaps I should just take it back to keep Dove company,’ she mused. She might not have much time to play with Dove herself recently, and Dove was quite fond of the little rabbit. They could be playmates.

First, she would buy Dove a cake. Soronna had mentioned a specific shop, but Domu couldn’t quite recall which one. She strolled leisurely, lost in thought, trying to remember the details.

****

Triumphant City, located at the heart of the Norachi Kingdom, also served as its capital.

As the capital, Triumphant City was undeniably one of the Norachi Kingdom’s most prosperous cities, and simultaneously, the largest in terms of land area.

Within the Imperial Palace of Triumphant City, a middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a tailored, slim-fit black formal suit, moved with an elegant stride towards the royal backyard. He possessed handsome features, with striking pale blue eyes and a precisely trimmed goatee adorning his chin. His brown hair was immaculately styled, a subtle scattering of grey threads woven through it.

Servants along his path paused their duties, watching him depart with deferential gazes. In turn, the man offered a polite, smiling nod to everyone he encountered, regardless of their station.

The middle-aged man stopped before a door. He straightened his posture, gently smoothed his hair, then took a steadying breath before knocking.

“Your Majesty, your subject, Parobia, requests an audience.” The man’s voice, brimming with integrity, respectfully sought permission to enter.

“My most excellent Prime Minister, please enter.” A woman’s voice, sounding utterly languid and captivating, as if she had just awakened, drifted from within the room.

Parobia gently pushed open the door and stepped inside, his head bowed. Once fully in, he straightened, his gaze fixed intently on the room’s costly rug.

“Parobia, no need for such formality. Lift your head.” The languid voice issued a command.

“Yes… Your Majesty, your subject has a report.” Parobia slowly raised his head. Before him sat a peerless beauty with fiery red hair, appearing to be barely in her early twenties. Beneath long lashes, a pair of crimson eyes were slightly narrowed. Her noble yet melancholic aura seemed to emanate a profound sense of detachment and loneliness from her very core. This exquisite woman was the one Parobia had sworn to dedicate everything to, the greatest monarch on the Klaham Continent, the unique sovereign of the Norachi Kingdom, and his most cherished… At this moment, the monarch sat by the window, observing him with an amused expression, as if contemplating something highly diverting.

“Parobia, why did you not look at me immediately upon entering?” The beautiful monarch’s languid voice held a subtle chill.

“Your Majesty, I…” Parobia felt a surge of panic.

“Hahaha~ Parobia, you truly are adorable!” The monarch suddenly burst into delighted laughter. “Did you perhaps think I had just woken up? Were you afraid of seeing me in an unseemly state?” She pointed a finger at her extremely embarrassed Prime Minister, laughing without a care for her regal image.

“Your Majesty, please cease jesting with your subject…” Parobia realized that even after serving by her side for so long, he still couldn’t keep pace with her thoughts. ‘Truly the strongest intellect,’ he mused. ‘Our Majesty, to whom we pledge our utmost devotion.’

“Enough, Parobia,” the exquisite monarch said, reverting to her languid state. She turned her head to gaze listlessly at the scenery outside the window. “Do you perhaps have something urgent to report?”

“Your Majesty, the Frostwolf troops stationed by the Actica Empire at Frostblade Fortress have been exhibiting unusual activity recently,” Parobia reported with utmost seriousness. “Your subject has already instructed General Bestliam, commander of the Third Legion, to assume responsibility for border defense. Concurrently, the Lunbang Empire has been heavily purchasing grain, suggesting some unusual movement. Your subject is personally overseeing this matter. Furthermore…”

As Parobia delivered his report, the beautiful monarch appeared somewhat drowsy. One hand propped up her exquisite cheek, while the other tapped rhythmically on the crystal table beside her. Her eyes, devoid of focus, stared out the window.

“You’ve handled it well, Parobia. I am quite confident leaving these matters in your hands,” the monarch interjected, cutting off his further report with a perfunctory tone.

“Your Majesty, your subject actually has one more matter to report,” Parobia began. “This one will undoubtedly prove most intriguing to Your Majesty.” Observing the monarch, whose manner of handling affairs often resembled that of a child, Parobia nonetheless dared not show any disrespect. Instead, he dangled this piece of information like a sweet to entice a child.

“Oh? Do tell me quickly!” Just as expected, the monarch, who had maintained her languid posture, excitedly pushed herself upright. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows subtly arched, and she asked with immense curiosity.