TRFS 9

Chapter : 9

Just then, as if waiting for a cue, the darkness wavered and rushed beneath Cleora’s feet in an instant. When the shadows vanished, a space appeared.

“Good. Seems nothing’s too badly damaged.”

Inside were piles of gold beyond imagination. This was the Aizenbold family’s secret vault, accessible only to direct blood heirs.

At the same time, it held the spoils of war that the Aizenbolds had amassed over centuries of conflict.

Gold coins from kingdoms long gone, national treasures from other lands—
even artworks thought lost to war and royal luxuries. It was, without exaggeration, a vault that contained everything.

Anyone else who saw it would have been left speechless, but Cleora felt nothing in particular.

Because she knew—this wasn’t the only secret vault the Aizenbolds possessed.

The one she had told the current head, Eanok, about was the true core vault. The others were comparatively minor in scale.

Having seen them all herself, this place felt almost disappointing.

Of course, even this amount would be enough to fix a fair portion of the problems plaguing Aizenbold today.

“So. What should I do?”

Cleora crossed her arms and tilted her head.

If this vault was intact, then so were the others.

Which meant returning Aizenbold to its former standing wouldn’t actually be difficult.
But… was it right to take this out?

Bluntly speaking, showing this would at least make them believe she really was Cleora.
But suspicion would remain—and they could easily twist her intent and threaten her.

The present Aizenbold was no longer the house Cleora had led 70 years ago.

It was small and weak, a ruined line clinging only to its ducal title and fading glory.

Pouring money into such a place—would it be medicine, or poison?

Cleora swept her hair back and turned away.

“Guess that depends on them.”

Her tongue click echoed through the silent underground chamber.

“We’re really doing this?”

“We have to.”

The five commissioned knights who had been thoroughly scolded by Cleora gathered in a room, whispering gloomily.

Lately, they’d been followed everywhere by shadows, unable to live in peace. At this rate, they felt they’d die from stress alone.

“But… what if we get caught?”

“Even if we do, what’s the worst that happens? It’s just some insignificant common brat. So she has some weird trick—big deal.”

“Still…”

“Relax. I’ll handle it.”

The brown-eyed man, unofficial leader of the group, grinned confidently.

The others stared anxiously at him—but since they couldn’t stop him once he’d made up his mind, all they could do was sigh.

“Let’s go. Everything’s ready.”

“Already?”

“I’m not mentally prepar—”

“Preparation, shmeparation. Just follow me.”

With that bold declaration, the man flung open the door and stepped out.

His friends watched him silently for a moment, exchanged uneasy glances, then reluctantly followed.

“Let’s hear what this is about.”

Eanok looked at the knights lined up before him.

They came from decent houses and paid well for their training—he had spoken with them several times before.

Now they had requested an audience together. Even if he found it bothersome, Eanok couldn’t turn them away—though his expression said he wanted to.

“We have something to report.”

“Go on.”

“Recently, we suffered a deeply insulting offense.”

“Insulting?”

Eanok frowned, and the brown-eyed knight nodded vigorously.

“Some brat who doesn’t know her place insulted the order. In front of Your Grace, no less.”

So it was that. Eanok sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If it’s about that, I planned to summon her later and warn her.”

“I’m relieved Your Grace understands. But what we want to report is that the girl possesses an ominous ability.”

“Ominous? Explain.”

“When we tried to reprimand her, the surroundings suddenly darkened and she attacked us.”

Eanok’s brows drew together.

“Since then, something follows us—shadows everywhere we go, as if we’re being watched.”

“…”

“We fear she may be some corrupted sorcerer—perhaps a black mage. You cannot allow such a child to remain in the castle. We advise a full investigation and expulsion.”

His logic and delivery were flawless.

The other four stared at their friend in admiration.

Their eyes gleamed as if everything were finally going to go their way.

Eanok rested his chin on his hand, studying them quietly, then exhaled.

“So—you claim she used shadows?”

“We can’t say for certain, but it was definitely ominous. Investigating will reveal the truth.”

“Very well. Thank you. I’ll look into it.”

“The sooner resolved, the better. Good day.”

The brown-eyed knight bowed and exited, the others following behind.

Eanok watched them leave, then grimaced once the door shut.

‘How pathetic. Listening to tattling from mere commissioned knights…’

He wanted to tell them all to get lost—but that wasn’t the real issue.

“Shadows… hm.”

His gaze drifted to a report on his desk. A smirk twisted his lips.

“Predictable.”

Proof of lineage—shadows.
What a cliché.

With a bitter grin, he drew a bold X through Cleora’s name.

Ironically, he had just pushed her further away from recognition as a direct heir.

“See? Told you it’d work!”

“Unbelievable—he actually listened?”

“Now we just wait for the duke to undo whatever curse she put on us.”

“You’re amazing. How is that terrifying duke so gentle with you? Your merchant family must really be powerful.”

The brown-eyed knight puffed up proudly as his friends praised him.

“Well, yeah. We’re kind of a big deal. Hey—it’s getting dark and we’re done for the day. Want to go grab a dri—hm?”

Mid-brag, he paused.

The hallway that had been bustling moments ago was gone—only darkness stretched before their eyes.

The others noticed it too.

Just as panic set in, a soft voice floated through the shadows.

“Wow. You didn’t even last two days?”

“Wh-what!?”

Startled by the voice beneath them, the knights staggered back.

Standing where they had been a moment before—smiling sweetly—was Cleora.

“I told you not to run your mouths recklessly. Don’t you remember?”

“W-we didn’t do anything…!”

The brown-eyed knight flinched but shouted brazenly. Cleora’s smile vanished.

“Nothing?”

“Y-yes. Nothing—”

“Nothing? Yet you went to the duke’s office and claimed I attacked you?”

“W-what!? H-how did you—mph!”

One knight blurted the truth, only to be silenced by another.

Cleora tilted her chin, as if to say told you, and the brown-eyed knight went pale.

But only for a moment. With something still giving him confidence, he forced a bold expression.

“Y-yeah. We said it. So what? A commoner insulting knights of Aizenbold and threatening them with foul tricks—that’s a crime punishable by death.”

“Is that so?”

“We told the duke. You’re finished. So stop this and beg for mercy!”

Cleora stared at him without expression—then slowly smiled.

In the darkness, her crimson eyes narrowed.

“Right. My mistake.”

“G-good that you understand.”

“I should’ve made things clearer the first time. I was too gentle. You take advantage of that—don’t you think?”

“W-what…?”

“Let’s make it unmistakable this time.”

Her hand rose—and the shadows surged like a tide, swallowing the knights whole.