Chapter 7: I Want a Reward

This didn’t come as a surprise to Irene.

In recent years, the Raven household had risen to power like a comet, basking in endless praise and glory.

While the Raven family certainly enjoyed the benefits, they had made plenty of enemies along the way.

She had no doubt that within the Kingdom, more than a few people were eyeing the Raven family’s growing influence with greed.

Disguising regular troops as bandits to intercept her, only to kidnap her and use her as leverage against her mother—

“You wouldn’t want something unfortunate to happen to your daughter, would you?”—was a classic tactic to extort concessions.

That was the price of standing at the top—immense and dangerous.

As for who might be behind this?

Irene couldn’t even begin to guess.

Captain Ansel’s expression shifted subtly.

Looking again at the so-called bandits encircling the carriage, he noticed something strange—

These men didn’t have the chaotic energy of regular highwaymen.

Too quiet.

Too disciplined.

No bandit gang behaved like this in a roadside ambush.

They were like a battle-hardened unit of elite soldiers.

“Soldiers in disguise?!”

Ansel clenched his jaw, face grim.

He knew this night wasn’t going to end peacefully.

They weren’t here for money.

They were here for the young lady herself.

Even though his guards were elite, handpicked warriors, they were still outnumbered four or five to one.

And he wasn’t confident he could protect Irene under these circumstances.

Surrender meant certain death.

Whether by these impostors or the wrath of the Marquis afterward, there’d be no mercy.

A desperate breakout was their only sliver of hope.

He lowered his voice and moved toward the carriage.

“Lady Irene, I’ll order our men to break through to the northeast—That side appears to be lightly guarded. Miss Leila, I’ll be entrusting the young lady to your protection.”

Leila nodded firmly.

But before they could act, Irene spoke up, calmly yet firmly:

“Wait, Captain Ansel. That’s a trap.”

Her voice was level, her expression unreadable.

Even in this crisis, she showed no sign of panic.

In truth, she was already used to this.

During her two and a half years as an adventurer, situations where she was surrounded and outnumbered were common.

And yet, she’d always survived—over and over again.

“They left that opening on purpose. If I’m not wrong, the northwest is heavily fortified and waiting for us.”

Ansel blinked, realization dawning.

“But we’re already surrounded. Wouldn’t a trap be unnecessary?”

“Oh, it’s necessary, alright.”

Irene’s gaze landed on the bandit leader.

Every movement, every word—he screamed ‘military training.’

“Their equipment is inferior to ours. And while your numbers are small, every one of your guards is a first-class warrior. If it came to a last stand, they’d lose at least half their forces. No commander would accept that kind of sacrifice.”

“If we give them even a sliver of hope for escape, our troops won’t risk their lives to fight to the death—That would change everything…”

Exactly.

And it’d give them a perfect excuse to set up an ambush or two along the way.

Irene spoke with calm clarity, and Captain Ansel—who had once looked down on this sheltered noble lady—now found himself unconsciously relying on her judgment.

Who said a tiger mother would raise a useless daughter?

Just this level of insight alone isn’t something an average soldier could ever reach.

“Then, Lady Irene,” Ansel asked solemnly, “what do you suggest we do?”

“There’s a saying—cut off the head and the body dies. Ansel, lure their leader out and challenge him to a duel. As for what comes next—”

She turned to her side, gaze resting on her maid.

Her bright eyes curved into a mischievous smile.

“Leave it to Leila.”

As the personal maid of the War Marquis’ daughter, how could she be any ordinary servant?

Leila nodded sweetly, stepping closer with a bashful smile.

“But I’ll need a blessing from you first, milady…Otherwise I might not succeed. That leader… he’s stronger than me.”

As she spoke, she leaned in, her voice lowering into a playful murmur.

“Just one little kiss?”

Irene gave a helpless chuckle, reaching up to hook her arm around Leila’s neck.

She leaned in and planted a soft, feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Leila’s fair face instantly turned bright red, eyes sparkling with delight—and just a hint of dangerous excitement.

It was like she’d been hit with some kind of invincibility buff.

“With Lady Irene’s blessing, there’s nothing to fear! Watch me pierce that bandit leader’s throat in one shot!”

With that, Leila’s figure melted into the shadows of the forest.

She was no ordinary maid—she was a master archer and assassin.

True, she wasn’t stronger than the bandit leader in a head-on fight, and in terms of raw strength she was no match for Ansel either.

But she was an assassin.

And when it came to assassins, raw power wasn’t always what mattered.

Irene had full faith in her.

After all, Leila had originally been sent to assassinate Irene’s mother.

And that failed attempt?

The only failure in her career.

Why had she failed?

She’d accidentally triggered one of Irene’s childish pranks meant to tease her mother, which ruined her stealth and got her caught.

Marquis Cecile, strong as she was, beat her into the ground with just a few punches and kicks.

In the early days of their adventuring party, Leila had secretly followed them from the shadows, resolving crisis after crisis before quietly fading into the background once the team grew strong enough to protect themselves.

And now?

In the chaos of battle, who would ever pay attention to the whereabouts of a harmless little maid?

While Irene was still deep in thought, Captain Ansel stepped forward, striding confidently through the gathered soldiers.

He greeted the bandit leader with the finest choice of words in the royal tongue—colorful insults that questioned the virtue of the man’s closest female relatives.

Irene had taught him those phrases.

After all, who in this fantasy world could possibly resist the verbal finesse of a modern-day Earthling’s swearing?

The bandit leader went red with fury.

“You want a duel? Then a duel it is! You’re still mouthing off when death’s at your doorstep? I swear, if I don’t chop you into meat paste today, I’ll start writing my name backwards!”

Ansel gave a lazy smirk and crooked a finger at him.

“Come on, you overgrown thug. Without your crowd of cronies, what are you but a third-rate thug?”

The two sides fell back, creating space for the duel.

As steel clashed and sparks flew from Ansel and the bandit leader’s blades—

A silver flash tore through the air.

A cold glint pierced the darkness as a bolt shot from the shadows, aimed squarely at the bandit leader’s throat.

His eyes widened.

Reacting with uncanny speed, he jumped back, and with a sharp clang, deflected the arrow by the slimmest margin.

The bolt spun wildly into the air, missing its mark.

“You damn Kingdom cowards! All you ever do is fight dirty! Lucky for me, I’m quick on my feet!”

Kingdom cowards…?

That single phrase made Irene’s eyes narrow.

Ansel, meanwhile, clicked his tongue in frustration.

“Missed…”

But Irene smiled faintly.

“No. That was a hit.”

Leila, hidden in the trees under cover of shadow, stood with her bow still vibrating from the shot.

Her icy blue eyes stared down at the bandit leader like he was already a corpse.

“With Lady Irene’s blessing, I’ve never missed a shot.”

It was almost absurd.

During her days tailing Irene through dungeons, Leila’s arrows had struck their targets in the most improbable of ways—as if guided by fate itself.

This time would be no different.

The spinning arrow soared high, looped once—twice—then suddenly dropped.

It wasn’t just falling.

It was diving, guided by something greater than mere gravity.

The bandit leader squinted, blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the arrowhead.

Instinctively, he raised his sword—

But the bolt, as if following a divine decree, slipped right between the blade’s guard and struck dead center in his throat.

One clean shot. Instant kill.

The moment their leader fell, the rest of the bandits wavered.

Panic began to ripple through their ranks.

One of the lieutenants tried to take charge.

“D-Don’t panic! Hold the line! Boss must’ve been tricked by—”

Before he could finish, Leila’s next shot blew a hole straight through his chest.

And with that, the tide turned.

That lieutenant?

He was leagues below the bandit leader in strength.

Leila hadn’t even needed the element of surprise to take him down—he died instantly, no questions asked.

Now the bandits were truly panicked.

This unseen sniper was like the grim reaper.

Whoever she targeted died without fail.

Who would dare step up to lead now?

Ansel seized the moment, roaring,

“Protect the young lady! Cut these cowards down!”

Steel flashed—

The guards, despite being outnumbered, charged straight into the stunned bandits like wolves into a flock of sheep.

Chaos erupted.

Dozens of so-called “bandits” were now fleeing in every direction, hunted down by a force nearly half their size.

Irene had hoped to keep one or two of them alive for questioning, but…

Captain Ansel was already in full berserker mode.

He charged ahead, slashing down one after another like a man possessed.

The bandits couldn’t even fight back.

“Ansel! Stop chasing! Are you here to protect me or to join a military exercise?!”

Unfortunately, the good captain and a few of the guards had already charged too far to hear her.

Well, what could she expect?

The man was ex-military—chasing down routed enemies was practically a hobby.

Irene could only sigh and shake her head.

“It’s alright, my lady,” said Leila, appearing beside the carriage and gently closing the door behind her.

“I’ve checked—there are no more ambushers nearby. Let Captain Ansel go on. Wiping this group out entirely isn’t such a bad outcome.”

Before Irene could reply, Leila had already climbed into the carriage—and promptly pounced.

A soft, warm pressure enveloped her chest, the feel of Leila’s generous curves pressing against her own modest figure.

The maid’s cheeks were flushed a deep pink, and her eyes gleamed with barely restrained excitement.

“My lady…” she whispered, lips brushing Irene’s ear,

“I’d like a reward.”