Chapter 85: Only eternal interests

The vitality of a Divine Chosen was astonishing. After coughing up a large mouthful of blood, Sylvia rolled several times across the floor. Her once-beautiful clothes were stained red, leaving her in a miserable state. Gritting her teeth, she used the last of her divine power to turn into a mass of shadow and vanished from sight.

Phield was surprised—and quietly relieved. Though it had nothing to do with him, watching Simon casually slaughter lives and even speak of eating people was deeply unsettling.

Of course, Sylvia was not his ally, and she was already contracted. There was no reason for him to intervene.

Now that she had escaped, it felt like a win for everyone.

At least he wouldn’t have to watch Simon indulge in something so disturbing. He treated it as a dramatic performance that had ended.

Sensing Florine’s gaze, Phield put on a shocked expression. “She escaped? Could she attempt another assassination?”

“Lock down the estate. Guards, search everywhere and find the assassin,” Florine ordered. Then she changed into a gentle, almost shy demeanor and turned to Phield. “Dear Baron Phield, please don’t worry. Let’s move somewhere else and continue the banquet.”

Phield truly had no appetite anymore. “Ahem… thank you for the hospitality. Why don’t we discuss business directly?”

“The Vigor Elixir’s effect is relatively mild. But the Vital Essence Oil—and the special portion prepared for you—is far stronger, reserved only for the noble,” Phield explained in detail, smiling faintly. “These are divine medicines granted to me through a dream from the God of Love. I trust you won’t let my efforts go to waste.”

“Of course not. My family’s motto is: lower your guard, and everyone becomes a brother,” Simon declared proudly.

Even with corpses still lying in the hall, he sounded completely serious.

“Once I’ve tested the effects, we’ll discuss the price,” Simon added with a grin. “Until then… please, take a short rest.”

“There won’t be any more assassins, right?” Phield joked lightly. “I don’t have a powerful Divine Chosen guarding me.”

“Rest assured. That assassin has already lost the ability to attack. We’ll find her soon,” Florine said, raising two fingers as a promise. “Of course, if you’re worried about protection, I could accompany you.”

“I’ll pass.”

Spending a night with Florine felt like a dangerous idea. A human commanding a monstrous guard force clearly possessed some kind of mind-control ability. Her earlier oath was likely nothing more than a comforting lie.

Phield had already guessed how she controlled those creatures.

The room prepared for him was on the second floor, lavishly decorated. Rare plants, insect specimens, and oil paintings alone were worth more than several stone houses owned by commoners.

“My lord, would you like a bath? The earlier incident must have left you uneasy. We apologize,” two maids said as they entered.

People in the medieval era did bathe—at least nobles did. Some even became famous for their bathing habits despite church objections.

“A bath?”

Phield scratched his head awkwardly. Communal baths were a popular noble pastime.

“No need. Just prepare a large bathtub,” he said, stretching.

Soon, silver trays filled with roses and herbs were brought in, along with fruit and wine. A large tub was placed in the room. The fragrant mixture filled the air.

“Please, my lord.”

Phield rubbed his temples. Such treatment could easily make anyone lose self-control. No wonder the Maple Leaf territory attracted so many nobles.

But he reminded himself to stay disciplined.

“I’ll endure. One day I’ll have my own Divine Chosen maid corps,” he muttered to himself before waving the attendants away with a polite excuse. “You may leave. I prefer to bathe alone.”

“Yes, my lord. Call us if you need anything.”

After they left, Phield sank into the warm water. The temperature was perfect, easing his tired body.

“The Maple Leaf territory is far too prosperous,” he thought, already planning how to develop his own land to surpass it.

About ten minutes later, just as he was about to stand—

A shadow suddenly dropped from above.

Splash.

It fell straight into the bath.

“Hey—of all places to fall!” Phield was startled, but he quickly steadied himself. The Silver Iris Longsword activated instantly, its tip resting against the figure’s throat. “Heh… little cat, I knew you’d come looking for me.”

Sylvia struggled, clearly uncomfortable in the water, but the cold blade at her neck left her frozen in confusion.

“A… divine artifact? Why aren’t you surprised? How did you know I’d come?”

Phield snorted. “With how reckless you are—no scouting, no planning—even my maid’s foot could’ve predicted your next move.”

“Huh?”

The drenched catgirl blinked in confusion, her pink eyes full of questions.

“In this whole estate, my room is probably the only place without guards or watchers,” Phield said calmly. “So I guessed you’d come here. I just didn’t expect you to take such a big risk.”

He had sent the attendants away partly for this reason.

Sylvia looked completely lost. “H-How did you know there were no guards?”

“If there were, you wouldn’t have come. That means Simon is watching me but still trusts me enough. Understand, pink cat?”

As her eyes gradually cleared with understanding, Phield withdrew the sword.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Phield, Baron of Nightfall Domain—also known as a friend to female Demei-humans.”

“Humph. Despicable human. You think I’d believe you?” Sylvia’s eyes reddened as she remembered her fallen companions, raising her dagger defensively.

“Don’t be foolish. Your enemy is Simon, not me. Kill me and you’ll only doom yourself—and in your current state, do you really think you could win?”

Sylvia calmed slightly. “W-What do you want?”

“I want you.”

She nearly choked in shock, face flushing with anger. “I knew it—humans are all the same!”

“I mean I want your loyalty,” Phield said calmly, fingers interlaced.

“Impossible. I already serve a lord. And humans can’t form contracts with Demei-humans, idiot!”

Phield knew she was already bound, but he was testing her reaction.

“Oh? Who says someone can’t change masters?”

“Never! I’d rather die!” Sylvia’s voice rose, ready to fight if needed.

Phield raised a hand gently. “Relax.”

He lightly patted her fluffy ears and head in a calming gesture.

Sylvia froze, then snapped back to her senses. “W-Wait! Don’t touch me! Why are you so used to doing that?!”

At that moment, her ears twitched. “Someone’s coming.”

Phield frowned and pushed her down beneath the water. “Hide. Hold your breath. Don’t move.”

He added more wine and rose petals to the tub and draped a towel across the surface, making it impossible to see clearly underneath.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Lord Phield, we heard movement earlier and suspect an assassin. May we search the room for your safety?”

“Of course. Please go ahead.”

Phield remained calm. Even if discovered, he could claim he was being threatened.

The manor soldiers searched briefly and left after finding nothing.

Sylvia emerged from the water, face red with embarrassment, muttering, “I… I’m doomed…”

“Let’s forget that,” Phield said with a sigh. “Let’s talk about something important. You want to survive, right? To avenge your companions… or to find the missing Demei-human children?”

He looked at her seriously as he asked.

Sylvia seemed to glimpse a sliver of hope. Thinking of her fallen companions, she asked with longing, “Yes… can you help me kill Simon?”

“No. Why would I help someone else’s Divine Chosen and turn against my own trade partner? Besides, Simon isn’t easy to deal with.”

Phield refused without the slightest hesitation.

For one, they were both human nobles. For another, his interests were already tied to Simon’s.

The corners of Sylvia’s lips drooped unconsciously, and tears began to fall again.

“Don’t be so fragile. If I can have dealings with Simon, I can have them with you too.” Phield patted her head again in consolation.

Sylvia: ??? Meow?

Among nobles, eternal friendship was rare—but eternal interests were not.

Simon and Phield got along so well only because their interests did not clash; in fact, Phield could still bring him benefits.

Once the Nightfall Domain grew, however, disputes over trade, population, and land would inevitably arise.

Simon would become an enemy sooner or later—especially since he was a ruthless madman. Phield understood this clearly. Securing advantages for himself was what truly mattered.

But there was no need to tell Sylvia any of that.

“Stop touching my head. You human nobles are truly despicable—turning on your allies in the blink of an eye.” She said it sharply, yet she was no longer as agitated. Instead, she curled up in a corner of the bath, patiently waiting for Phield to continue.

“If you change sides and swear loyalty to me, I’ll help you take revenge.”

Sylvia answered without hesitation, “That’s impossible! Anything but that.”

“Then let’s try something else. You can recover your divine power in my room. I’ll cover for you, and I can even help you escape the estate. If you can’t turn into a shadow and slip out, it’s probably because your divine power is insufficient—or there are detection measures outside, right?”

“Mm… state your terms.” After a moment of hesitation, Sylvia nodded.

“Become my maid… ahem, just kidding.” Seeing Sylvia about to pounce and bite him, Phield quickly changed his words. “First, let me see your divine artifact. I’m curious about what it can do.”

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