“Senior, you look quite well today.”
Lomiu’s gaze swept across Sylvia’s delicate face as he was the first to break the silence.
“It seems your health only takes a turn for the worse when you’re around me?”
The young lady wore a perfectly tailored iris-blue gown, complex lace trim and fine silver thread embroidery accentuating her figure, which had already begun to blossom.
Though still at the tender age of budding youth, her every movement deliberately radiated a mature grace far beyond her years.
As Lomiu’s words faded, the hazy glow that masked him from others’ senses quietly dissipated.
With the weakening of the [Concealment] effect, his strikingly refined features and pure aura became faintly exposed.
Yet even this slight reveal was enough to make the entire dessert shop fall momentarily silent.
Every girl’s eyes were drawn to him, as if by some irresistible force.
Whispers immediately began to spread in every corner.
“Thanks to a certain wager, I’m in excellent spirits today, and my health is naturally sound.”
Sylvia’s fingertips felt a bit cold, but she still maintained perfect poise, as though she hadn’t noticed the gathering stares around her.
She looked at Lomiu and elegantly tugged her silk gloves higher, covering that small stretch of ivory-white wrist.
A subtle gesture, yet full of wariness and vigilance.
“Besides, I ought to thank you.”
“Oh? And why is that?” Lomiu feigned innocence.
“My junior really does have a wicked mind.” Sylvia sighed lightly, “The Academy news this morning—wasn’t that your doing?”
At these words, the murmurs around them suddenly grew clearer.
“The news about the caravan delay? He’s involved?”
“No way. I’ve been hanging out in the Exchange every day and never saw this guy buy even a single piece of Russell-related material.”
“Right! If anything, it’s Senior Sylvia who almost bought up all the Silver Bell Essence on the market. I listed mine for seven credits and still couldn’t sell!”
“Wait… did they team up for this?”
“You’re joking, Senior.”
Lomiu spread his hands, a picture of pure innocence.
“I didn’t buy any of that stuff.”
“If anything, even if I wanted to buy it now, it’s already too late.”
Inside, he was absolutely gleeful.
Not a single lie.
Those items? Ibuki Mio, the king of hoarding, bought them.
The Silver Bell Essence in his hand was “borrowed” from Mentor Ankatt’s warehouse—a cost-free deal.
From beginning to end, his personal account had nothing to do with the bulk purchases; he was as spotless as a blank sheet of paper.
“Oh?”
Sylvia tilted her head ever so slightly, Lomiu’s reaction catching her off guard.
Over the past few days, she’d leveraged her family’s power to investigate Lomiu thoroughly.
Son of a border count.
That count, admittedly, was someone—climbing to rank through real military achievements, gaining considerable prestige in the army.
But that was it.
With such a background, he couldn’t even touch the inner workings of the Russell Empire, let alone influence a merchant caravan operating within its borders.
He didn’t even have the channels to acquire precise intelligence on the caravan.
So, who orchestrated this near-perfect strike against the caravan?
Her deduction quickly pointed to the only real possibility.
That man—Kafnir.
Only he, as a prince of Russell, had both the ability and the motive to let a merchant caravan “reasonably” vanish in a snowstorm right under the Empire’s nose.
So that was it.
In her eyes, Lomiu was merely the pawn Kafnir had pushed to the forefront, a decoy meant to draw fire.
The real mastermind, from start to finish, was that deep and inscrutable Russell heir.
This wager was probably another part of Kafnir’s plan—to drag her into these muddy waters.
Otherwise, how could a mere border count’s son possibly command so many geniuses from such varied backgrounds?
With that realization, the way she looked at Lomiu became one of detached, knowing superiority.
“Your squad really is united.”
There was a trace of pity in Sylvia’s tone, as though she’d already seen through everything.
“Unlike me. I’m all alone; everything must be done by my own hand.”
She spoke offhandedly, as if instructing a servant to deliver a message.
“Give my regards to His Highness Kafnir.”
“My buddy can’t stand you. Forget the regards.”
Without a second thought, Lomiu bluntly refused, shattering her carefully constructed elegance with a single sentence.
He watched Sylvia’s suddenly stiff expression with great amusement.
“You really think you’ve already won, just because you’re so leisurely now?”
“Is there any need for me to put in more effort?”
Sylvia quickly regained her composure, plastering on her flawless fake smile once again, leaning forward slightly and lowering her voice.
“You already belong to me now, junior.”
Her words were full of a victor’s ease and condescension.
“Stop struggling. Just enjoy these last moments of freedom before the countdown ends.”
“That’s not certain.”
Beneath the table, Lomiu’s fingers moved slightly, making a subtle hand gesture toward the shadows in the dessert shop.
The next moment.
A figure glided silently out of the shadows, weaving through the crowd and stopping precisely at their table.
It was Annie.
She first bowed deeply to Lomiu, her movements as textbook-perfect as could be.
Then she straightened up, quietly awaiting instructions.
This tiny detail left every student who witnessed it utterly stunned.
“Who’s that?”
“Wait, isn’t she… that maid, the one who serves Chief Kafnir?!”
Everyone knew Annie was His Highness Kafnir’s personal attendant.
But now, she was bowing to Lomiu?
For the first time, a visible crack appeared in the perfect smile on Sylvia’s face.
No… this isn’t right!
“Why don’t you tell everyone…”
Lomiu leaned back in his chair, his tone lazy but clear enough to carry through the now-silent dessert shop.
“…what Senior Sylvia has really been up to lately?”
Annie stepped forward without a ripple of emotion, her gaze not lingering on Sylvia at all. She simply faced the air, reporting in a flat, businesslike tone.
“As you command, Lord Lomiu.”
“Miss Valentin, three days ago, mobilized her family’s intelligence network to conduct a thorough investigation into your background.”
“The investigation covered your family structure, assets, and all recorded social relationships.”
The dessert shop fell deathly silent.
Those students who’d been whispering before now even softened their breathing, afraid to miss a single word.
Using family resources to investigate a fellow first-year?
That was already beyond normal competition.
“On the same day, Miss Valentin began, in her own name, to purchase large quantities of ‘Silver Bell Essence’ from the Academy’s market. The highest price per unit reached 5.5 credits in a single day, with the total transaction amount exceeding 300 credits.”
“Three hundred credits?!”
Someone in the crowd couldn’t hold back and blurted out, then quickly covered their mouth.
For a first-year, that sum was astronomical.
“Afterward, Miss Valentin issued orders to her subordinates to spare no cost in clearing out all circulating stocks of ‘Silver Bell Essence’ from the market before the wager’s deadline, and even posted a buy order at 10 credits per unit, creating a market vacuum.”
Annie’s report concluded.
She bowed to Lomiu once more, then melted back into the shadows, as if the storm her words had stirred had nothing to do with her.
The dessert shop erupted.
“So she’s the one who bought out the market! No wonder the price spiked like crazy!”
“Using family power to investigate your opponent, then squeezing the market with all that capital… isn’t that way overboard?”
“That Lomiu guy… he just seems like a normal noble. How can he possibly compete with someone from the Valentin family?”
“This wager was unfair from the start!”
Waves of sympathy and reproach grew clearer, all directed at the iris-blue silhouette still seated at the table.
Beneath the table, Sylvia’s hand clutched her skirt so tightly that the silk was wrinkled and misshapen.
She could feel it—those gazes on her were no longer filled with admiration or awe, but scrutiny, censure, even… hostility.
A flush of burning anger shot up from her chest to her head, and she felt her blood surging out of control.
No.
Not here.
She fought to suppress that brutal urge welling from the depths of her bloodline, her nails nearly breaking the skin of her palm.
She could sense a faint itch at the back of her neck—a sign that her scales were about to break through the skin.
If anyone saw…
Her identity as heir to the Valentin family, the flawless image she’d so painstakingly maintained, would collapse in an instant.
She would become… a monster.
“So that’s it.”
Lomiu had seen through every ounce of her bravado.
Beneath this woman’s proud shell was a profound fear of her own bloodline. She wasn’t afraid of losing, but of being seen as an outcast—being stared at as a freak by those “mortals” she looked down upon.
How very… simple to understand.
“Senior.”
Suddenly, Lomiu stood up, his face showing just the right mix of grief and unyielding determination.
“Why… why would you go so far?”
His words pulled all attention back to him.
The youth’s usually clear, innocent features were now twisted by humiliation and stubbornness, as if he’d been driven to the brink.
If the Oscars existed here, they’d have handed him a trophy on the spot for this performance.
Sylvia jerked her head up, a foreboding chill rising within her from Lomiu’s words.
Sure enough.
The next moment, Lomiu spoke in a voice full of wrenching pain, as if he was laying his dignity bare for all to see, and pronounced every word:
“Senior, I’m not that kind of man.”
“Now you’ve bound me with a contract, and even if I lose and my body is forced to yield to you in the end…”
“My soul will never give in!”
Boom!
The crowd exploded.
If Annie’s revelations had been the prelude to a financial war, then Lomiu’s declaration had suddenly spun the story into a melodramatic emotional spectacle that no one could have expected—but everyone relished.
A domineering dragon-blooded noblewoman, infatuated with a beautiful but lower-born boy.
Unable to win his heart, she set a wager and leveraged her family’s wealth and power, all to forcefully possess him!
“Oh my… did I just hear that?”
“His body submits… but his soul won’t… this is just…”
“No wonder Senior Sylvia spent so much! Her real goal wasn’t money—it was him!”
“Poor thing, look at him, he’s about to cry. Quick, come to big sister’s arms…”
Countless gazes, filled with sympathy, pity, gossip, and even a spark of excitement, swept back and forth between Lomiu and Sylvia.
At this moment, Lomiu was no longer a gambler in their eyes, but a tragic hero—unyielding, determined to defend his purity.
“……”
For a brief moment, Sylvia’s mind went completely blank.
Body… yield?
Not that kind of man?
Those words combined into a scorching brand, burning into the pride she held as the Valentin family’s heir.
“You…”
Realizing the tide of public opinion had turned, Sylvia shot to her feet. Her chair scraped against the floor with a piercing shriek.
All conversation stopped instantly.
Every gaze focused on her.
On this dragon girl, exposed for her “true intentions” in public.
Lomiu could even sense the magic around her growing dangerously unstable, the air thick with the scent of brimstone and flames as her emotions spun out of control.
Beneath the hair at the nape of her neck, a patch of tiny scales shimmered with a ghostly blue glow, barely concealed.
She was exposed.
Only for a split second, but with his third-tier assassin’s dynamic vision, Lomiu caught every detail.
“Senior, are you… are you really going to force me?”
As he spoke, Lomiu’s gaze passed over the nearly exploding Sylvia and landed on the ever-professional maid in the corner of the café.
“Well done, you did well!”