Saintess? Divine Revelation? What on earth is all this! Her mind was a complete mess.
Leila and Ansel were also taken aback. They immediately stepped forward, subtly placing themselves between Irene and the crowd, their eyes scanning the excited people warily.
At that moment, an elderly yet steady voice rang out, breaking the feverish atmosphere.
“Everyone, get up! What kind of behavior is this! Don’t disturb the young lady!”
The crowd parted, making way.
Dressed in immaculate white robes, exuding an extraordinary presence, Winston, supported by his granddaughter Rita, walked forward.
“Rita, and Winston?” Irene blinked in confusion.
The old man chuckled and said, “I’ve been busy treating the villagers these past few days, so I’ve heard a bit about what’s been happening.”
He paused, a complex light flashing in his eyes. “Yesterday, Miss Irene spoke with great passion, saw through Vincent’s vile scheme, and even announced publicly that she could hear the Divine Revelation. The Goddess showed mercy, and torrential rain revived the land. Thus, the title ‘Saintess’ spread quickly, and by last night, it had reached nearly every corner of the Barony.”
Rita nodded obediently, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Irene, who seemed even more impressive in her eyes. “That’s right, Irene. Maybe what happened here has already spread—not just in the Barony, but even in Windmill Village, where you once saved them. It seems your name as the Saintess is spreading there too!”
“Maybe in a few days, the Church will come to confer you the title.”
Hearing this, Irene felt her vision go dark and her scalp tingle!
The Divine Revelation was just a lie she’d made up on the spot; it couldn’t be taken seriously! It was merely an excuse for her ‘Miracle Weaver’ abilities—otherwise, if she made it rain on command, people might think she was some kind of wicked witch!
But using the Goddess as a cover, everything seemed fine!
Who could have guessed that, to these information-starved, suffering, and desperate-for-salvation people, one offhand remark, paired with a rainstorm that came after her prayer, plus her defeating Vincent the “Great Villain”…
“Hearing the Divine Revelation” naturally became an irrefutable truth! In this medieval world, where theocracy reigned supreme, Irene’s careless words were now taken as gospel by the villagers!
Saintess? That title is way too heavy! If word got to those strict, devout Church followers…
Irene could already picture her own “glorious” scene, bound to the stake!
“This… This is all a misunderstanding!” Irene felt her voice trembling. She anxiously looked at Winston and Rita, and the devout villagers behind her.
Irene felt like one day she’d die from rumors.
She hadn’t even finished her words when the urgent sound of hooves and shouts from soldiers interrupted her.
“Young Lady!”
A guard responsible for the outer perimeter galloped over, his face a mix of astonishment and confusion. He reined in his horse before Ansel and reported breathlessly:
“At the village entrance… several large carriages have arrived! No crest or insignia! The drivers abandoned the carriages and ran! We… we checked, inside… inside, they’re all… all filled with gold coins! Several huge chests, packed to the brim with gold!”
What?!
Irene, Leila, Ansel, Winston, and Rita—all were utterly stunned by this sudden news.
Gold coins? Several chests full? Who sent them?
A vague idea flashed through Irene’s mind.
She immediately mounted her horse. “Let’s go! We need to see for ourselves!”
On the dirt road outside the village entrance, sure enough, three sturdy, ordinary cargo carriages with no family insignia stood parked.
The horses had been led away by the guards to be cared for.
Several guards were gathered around the open carriage, their faces a blend of shock, joy, and disbelief.
Irene dismounted and strode quickly to one of the carriages. There were no seats inside, only large, sturdy wooden chests tied up with coarse hemp rope. One of the chests had already been pried open by the guards.
Golden light!
Blinding, dazzling golden light!
The chest was packed full of heavy, gleaming gold coins! Each coin was stacked neatly, reflecting a mesmerizing, intoxicating brilliance in the afternoon sun! At a glance, there had to be at least ten thousand coins in this chest alone!
Irene sucked in a cold breath, feeling it hard to breathe.
Suppressing her shock, Irene scanned the inside of the carriage and spotted a square bundle wrapped in oilcloth in the corner.
That merchant… Though he acted so slyly, his honesty was unexpected! Irene hadn’t counted on this at all—Clarette really was her lucky star! She must reward her newly acquired little maid well when she returned. She wondered what Clarette might want?
Meanwhile, on a remote path dozens of miles from the Barony’s border.
A middle-aged man, dressed as a merchant and covered in dust, was riding a fast horse, rushing toward the direction of the Empire.
He kept glancing nervously over his shoulder, as if pursued by evil spirits. Only after he was certain he’d left the Raven Family’s territory did he finally breathe a long, relieved sigh, reined in his horse, and let the exhausted beast rest a bit.
He wiped the cold sweat from his brow, recalling everything that had happened yesterday in that shadowy carriage. His back still felt cold, and he shivered with lingering fear.
That maid named Leila—her gaze was as sharp as a knife, her methods ruthless. Clearly, she was a seasoned interrogator.
But what truly broke him and made him spill all his secrets and hand over the account books and coded letters was the arrival of that blonde girl—Clarette.
The merchant slumped against his saddle, pulled out a water pouch from his chest, and gulped down a few mouthfuls.
The cool liquid slid down his throat, slightly easing the fear in his heart.
He gazed toward the blurry outline of the mountains in the direction of the Barony, his face full of confusion and deep reverence.
“Clarette… No, Empress Frederica…” he muttered softly, as if the two names held some kind of magic. “Your Majesty… this game you’re playing is far too grand and deep, isn’t it?”
The mighty Empress of the Empire, actually disguised as a little maid at the side of a border baron? What on earth is she after?
He really couldn’t figure it out.
That young empress, famed for her iron will and unfathomable mind, who sat atop the obsidian throne—why would she lower herself to come to this remote, impoverished land?
And what’s with the maid outfit?
What are you really scheming, Your Majesty?
“But…” The merchant shook his head, trying to rid himself of such blasphemous thoughts, a trace of relief flashing across his face. “Her Majesty’s plans are not for us mere mortals to guess at.”
Yes, a subject only needs to obey the Empress’s orders. The Empress has to think of everything else!
He recalled his own performance in the carriage—crying, swearing, pleading about his old mother and young children—and couldn’t help but wipe his forehead again.
Thank goodness, his acting was good enough! And the money—he’d paid back every single coin.
It hurt like hell, but compared to his life… it was worth it!
“Speaking of which…” The merchant suddenly remembered something, his brows furrowing slightly as he muttered to himself, “Her Majesty moved so quickly? I clearly remember, just… about a week ago? I was still in the capital to see her… She was still in the capital then!
How could she be here, playing maid in the backcountry, in just a few days?”
He scratched his head, baffled. “Could it be… Her Majesty can clone herself? Or… are there two Empresses?”
The thought was so absurd, he quickly shook it off.
The Empress’s whereabouts and methods were none of his business.
“Forget it, forget it, thinking too much makes my head hurt! I’d better hurry back and report!”
The merchant took one last look at the Barony’s direction, his eyes complicated.
That marquis’s young lady could never imagine that the lively, mischievous, whip-loving blonde “little maid” by her side was actually such a terrifying existence.
He could already picture the look of shock on the young lady’s face when Her Majesty tore off her disguise and achieved her goal! When that time comes, this money will surely be returned, no, doubled!
Her Majesty never treats her own people poorly.
He no longer hesitated, squeezed his legs around the horse’s belly.
The weary horse neighed and set off again, carrying the merchant—his heart full of awe and riddled with questions—racing toward the vast heartland of the Empire, quickly disappearing down the winding path.
so they tried to finish off the empress and put a copy in place, but apparently she only lost her memory and was eventually rescued by Irene