Chapter 24
“The Holy Sword of Pracatia…”
Hella tilted her head, pondering my request with a curious expression. Her long navy-blue nails, glinting like the night sky, tapped lightly near her chin.
Then she smiled, revealing a dimple.
“Bold for a little guest showing up out of nowhere. We base our trades on trust, you see.”
“I know. But if it were something easy to obtain, I wouldn’t have come all this way alone.”
Hella let out a short, amused laugh.
“Hm, that’s true as well. Clever, too.”
I may have been thirteen, but inside, I carried the mindset of someone in their twenties. Of course, in front of Hella, who had lived for hundreds of years, my age was insignificant.
She rested her chin on her hand and let her pale, moonlike eyes slowly scan me. There was a searching look in her gaze, as if assessing: what is this little one? Where did she come from? Can she be of use?
“The Holy Sword… I don’t imagine you could wield it yourself.”
Naturally.
‘What could I do with these skinny arms?’
At this point in my life, I’d never lifted anything heavier than a teaspoon. Training over the past ten days had changed that slightly, but my body, pampered for eleven years, hadn’t transformed overnight.
“And more importantly…”
Her previously languid expression suddenly turned cold.
“You’re not a mage, are you, little guest?”
Her voice was chillingly even. My shoulders stiffened.
‘I expected as much. She would notice right away.’
I had thought that anyone else might be fooled, but Hella would sense it instantly. After all, she was a mage who had lived hundreds of years—this level of discernment was natural.
Still, I was lucky in one regard. At this point in time, Hella didn’t know the face of “Princess Lorea.”
The Emperor had gone to great lengths to conceal my identity outside the palace, which worked in my favor.
Had she known I was a princess? This mage would have torn me to pieces without hesitation.
Then it happened.
A low vibration ran through the air, and goosebumps rose along my neck.
I didn’t need to look back to know it.
A sinister, threatening magical energy was targeting me.
‘……’
My heart pounded.
It would be a lie to say I wasn’t scared. But showing fear here would be the end.
“Will you answer me?”
Hella smiled lightly, as if she had never hardened her face a moment ago.
But I knew better. One wrong move and this spell could instantly shred me.
“This place is one only mages can enter. You seem aware of that, little guest. How did you manage to get here?”
Answer wrong, and I would die.
In just one month, my neck had been targeted multiple times—by Carlos, by Vincent, and now by Hella.
‘If this is karma, it’s a harsh one.’
I steadied my breathing, careful not to let my trembling voice betray me.
“That… is the ‘price’ I will offer you.”
I spoke as calmly as possible.
“There’s exactly one flaw in your perfect trade system.”
Hella’s method of conducting trades was simple: if you wanted something, you offered an equivalent price. It could be information, items, or people.
The most effective form of payment would be a refinement stone that controls magical energy—but that was my ultimate weapon. I couldn’t waste it here.
‘Other than the refinement stone, there’s no more certain payment.’
Hella’s pale, back-of-the-eye gaze revealed nothing. I couldn’t gauge what she was thinking—whether she was intrigued, or simply planning to kill me.
A tense silence stretched on. One second felt like a minute.
Finally, Hella leaned back into the sofa.
At the same time, the overwhelming magical energy aimed at my neck dissipated.
‘…Phew.’
I had survived. I almost exhaled a sigh of relief but held it back.
“Good. You’re smarter than I expected, little guest.”
Her violet hair fell softly through her fingers.
“The payment must be upfront, understood?”
“Of course.”
I took a pendant necklace from under my robe and removed it. Immediately, Carlos’s magical energy, which had covered my body, dissipated, and my hair and eyes returned to their natural colors.
“…Hm?”
For the first time, Hella looked puzzled.
It made sense—magical disguises using artifacts were common. Ordinary disguise magic couldn’t hide Damian’s presence from Hella’s high-level spells.
But the magic embedded in the artifact Carlos gave me was no ordinary disguise.
I placed the pendant on the table.
“This is an artifact made in a special way.”
Hella fixed her eyes on the pendant.
“The caster’s magical energy is strongly condensed. Once worn, it permeates the wearer’s body, spreading their magic throughout. It functions simultaneously as both concealment and protection.”
Even explaining it now, it amazed me. Before my regression, I had learned of this magic just as I was about to defeat Carlos completely. He had used the same method to hide Damian’s presence from Hella.
I had smashed the Moonlight Market to pursue him.
‘…I didn’t expect Carlos to use this magic for me, though.’
I remembered his unusually tired face. His pale complexion, suffering from magic yet never showing it, and the way he silently let me leave. My chest felt heavy recalling it.
‘I will repay you someday.’
Hella picked up the artifact, examining it with interest. She turned it this way and that, letting magical energy flow through it.
After a few seconds, she nodded as if she fully understood.
“There’s no flaw in my magic normally. This is an unexpected loophole.”
She looked at me.
“Whoever made this artifact is no ordinary mage.”
‘Carlos Carter.’
Of course, I didn’t say it.
Hella then put the artifact back down.
“Good. This payment is sufficient. I accept the trade.”
I… had succeeded! I almost bounced in my chair from excitement but held myself back.
“Adorable.”
Hella smiled gently.
…Had she noticed everything?
I quickly pressed my lips together.
‘So embarrassing…’
She tapped the arm of the sofa. Her tone had softened from before. I could hardly believe this was the same person who had seemed ready to kill me moments ago.
“You clever little guest probably already knows—the Holy Sword of Pracatia isn’t easy even for me to obtain.”
She continued,
“You do know what a ‘Holy Sword’ is, right?”
“I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t.”
I answered calmly as I put the necklace back on.
It was the legendary Holy Sword of the first Swordmaster. A sentient relic that synchronizes with its owner’s soul, unleashing maximum power.
It had also been the weapon Damian used, acquiring one of his eyes as the price to wield it, enduring the Emperor’s relentless interference before my regression.
