Chapter 49
‘No, that can’t be. There’s no way she’s here.’
I shook my head, dismissing the image of a certain novel character that had crossed my mind.
There was no way that woman could be here now.
Besides, no matter how I looked at it, the trembling figure in front of me was completely different in temperament.
The way she shook before me made it impossible to associate her with that one.
“This is a girl named Isbart. I once owed her a favor, so I arranged this meeting,” Islin said, answering for the trembling woman.
“She may not look very impressive, but she’s quite clever.”
“Hm.”
Isbart was a name I’d never heard before.
Yet somehow, a faint suspicion began to rise within me.
“How old is she?”
“…Nineteen.”
“…Gender?”
“She’s… female.”
“Hm.”
When I reacted rather blandly, Islin tried to speak up again, but I raised my hand to stop her.
“Stay quiet.”
“Ah… understood.”
Her age matched that of the character I remembered.
It was absurd, yet I couldn’t shake the thought of that insane woman from the novel.
“…Isbart.”
“Y-yes, my lord.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling like an ant crawling.
“What’s your surname?”
“…Pardon?”
She looked startled, her eyes wide like a frightened rabbit.
“I asked what family you’re from. And if you lie, I’ll cut your head off on the spot. Choose your words carefully.”
“T-that is…”
“My lord, this girl is of common birth. What do you mean, family…?”
“You really believe that?”
“…Surely not?”
Islin turned to Isbart, shocked.
But the girl just shook and stayed silent.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
When I raised my voice slightly, she finally forced herself to speak.
“…The Bolton family.”
“B-Bolton?”
Islin’s eyes went wide at the name — and truthfully, so did mine.
Bolton!
‘So she is that devilish woman from the novel!’
The moment I heard the name, I knew exactly what it meant.
But why here? This wasn’t how she appeared in the novel at all.
‘If I remember right… she was far more ruthless.’
The name Bolton was even familiar to Ian’s memories — a noble house that had sided with Emperor Kazan and was later purged.
Everyone was executed, save for one lucky young girl who survived.
That girl had hidden her family name and lived as “Isbart.”
After all, a fallen noble — especially from a purged traitor family — carried a heavy chain around their neck.
And since I knew the plot of the novel, this revelation was even more shocking.
Bolton was a major character — and not in a good way.
In the story, Bolton became one of those who sought the Emperor’s restoration —
The Serpent’s Head, Bolton.
If Krod was the sword of the Imperial faction, Bolton was its brain.
She was a genius who sowed discord among the Allied Kingdoms, toppling countless fiefs and systems.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the Imperial remnants thrived thanks to her schemes.
Compared to Bolton, Krod was an angel.
Krod had joined the Emperor’s cause out of loyalty to his former master, but Bolton was different —
her fuel was boundless hatred and vengeance toward the nobility.
Half her face was described as scarred by burns —
a childhood incident, when a cruel noble had thrown a boiling teapot into her face.
At the time, she didn’t hate all nobles.
But then her beloved was killed by one, and later she herself was framed as a dark sorceress and burned at the stake —
a plot devised by nobles who coveted her business.
Just before death, she was rescued by Krod, who happened to pass by.
From that day on, she became a woman consumed by hatred — a demon who despised all nobles.
‘That’s at least ten years from now… but still, she’s dangerous.’
Even if it hadn’t happened yet, the potential was there.
“I-I didn’t mean to deceive you! It’s just… people avoid me if I use my real name…”
“My lord…”
Islin’s expression shifted to one of regret.
No wonder — the Bolton family was purged for siding with the Emperor.
Even if I wasn’t one to care much for rank, a traitor’s bloodline was a different matter.
“I’m sorry…”
Isbart lowered her head, tears welling up.
“The sole survivor of House Bolton, then.”
“Yes…”
“Are you sure you’re comfortable keeping her here?”
Friana, standing beside me, placed a hand on her sword hilt.
Friana had once served the king and was from a baronet family — it was natural she’d despise Bolton.
“It’s fine. She’s keeping her head down; I doubt she harbors ill intent.”
“…If she did, I’d stop her.”
“If she tries to kill me, you’ll protect me, won’t you? That’s not too hard, right?”
“N-not at all! I’d give my life for you, my lord!”
“Heh. Good.”
Friana’s eyes drilled into Isbart so sharply that the girl looked ready to collapse.
“Ugh…”
The one most uncomfortable was clearly Islin.
She was the one who’d recommended Isbart for the Endello Mine management role.
Now it turned out she’d brought in a descendant of a traitor — that couldn’t sit well.
“I’m sorry, my lord. I made a mistake. I’ll send her back at once—”
“No. You recommended her, didn’t you? She’s worth something, isn’t she?”
“…What?”
“I told you before — I only need people who are smart and don’t stab me in the back.”
“…Yes, you did.”
“So, we’ll run a little test.”
I rested my chin on my hand, smiling with amusement.
“Isbart — that your real name?”
“Yes… Isbart Bolton. That’s my full name…”
“I’ll give you a problem. Solve it, and you’ll be rewarded. Fail, and you’ll be punished.”
“U-Understood…”
“Take a look at this.”
I handed her a stack of prepared documents.
With trembling hands, she accepted them.
It was an official report — about the bloody incident at Count Vener’s mansion last week.
According to it, Count Vener had died when I pierced his heart,
and his butler, Arberto, had been stabbed in the back by me as well.
‘A complete lie.’
In truth, Arberto had been killed by his own master, Count Vener.
But the royal judges had pinned it on me to tidy things up.
Officially, the case was recorded as nobles killing each other.
Still, anyone with insight knew the truth —
that Count Vener had slain his loyal servant to save his own life.
So the question was —
would she figure it out?
I smirked and watched her.
Isbart read in silence.
Strangely, once she began, her trembling stopped, and her eyes focused sharply on the paper.
‘Ho…’
Islin and I both noticed the change. Friana still kept her hand on her sword.
“Hmm…”
After a while, Isbart put the papers down.
“Do you know what question I’m about to ask?”
“…Yes.”
I hadn’t even said it yet.
If she didn’t seem to understand, I was going to hint — “Find the inconsistency in the report.”
But she’d already grasped it.
I grinned. “All right then. What do you think the problem is?”
“There’s… a contradiction in this document.”
“What part?”
She took a slow breath, then looked straight at me with one uncovered eye.
“First, I’ve met Arberto a few times. He was cautious — the kind of man who’d never act recklessly.”
“And?”
“Yet this report says he was stabbed in the back with a short dagger — completely inconsistent with your usual weapon.
If he was truly ambushed, it must’ve been by someone he didn’t expect.
Anyone much weaker than him wouldn’t risk a surprise attack — so it had to be someone close.”
“Oh?”
“I believe Count Vener killed him. Perhaps using a draining dagger to boost his mana for a moment.”
‘Damn!’
I was honestly impressed.
She hadn’t seen the scene, yet deduced the truth from mere lines on a page.
‘She really is sharp.’
For a moment, we locked eyes.
“….”
Then she quickly looked down again, frightened.
But that was enough.
Her talent was proven.
If I could make her mine, she’d be invaluable.
But… could I really use her?
The woman destined to become one of my worst enemies?
“You’re right,” I said. “Count Vener killed him with a draining dagger — though even that wasn’t enough to beat me.”
“….”
“As Islin said, you’re smart.”
“You flatter me, my lord.”
“Just one more question — what do you plan to do now?”
“Pardon? I… suppose I’ll go back to my work.”
“Work? What is it you do?”
“I handle accounting ledgers for the mercenary guild.”
“Hmm. Ledgers, huh.”
She looked puzzled.
I glanced at Islin, who seemed to catch on, her expression brightening.
“M-my lord, forgive me for asking, but why do you wish to know that?”
I only smiled.
If I let her return now, she’d just keep working for that guild —
enduring corruption, shedding tears over noble tyranny,
forever haunted by the cursed Bolton name.
In time, she’d be accused of dark sorcery, cast down again,
and eventually meet the Imperial remnants — who’d awaken her hatred once more.
Then, just like in the novel, she’d become the Serpent’s Head,
the mind behind the rebellion that threatened the Allied Kingdoms.
But if I took her in now?
Then that brilliant mind would serve me.
A weapon like no other.
“Isbart Bolton.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“How about working for me?”
“…What?”
“Arberto chose the wrong master to serve.”
“…I agree.”
“So what about you?”
“….”
“Will you also choose the wrong one? Or live masterless, scraping by each day?”
“I…”
“There happens to be an open position — Endello Mine’s manager.
You can either fiddle with guild ledgers… or run a mine. Think carefully.”
“But… why someone like me?”
“You solved my problem. That’s your reward — a chance to serve me.”
“If I could have a bit of time to think—”
“No. I’m impatient. Answer now.”
“Ugh…”
Isbart hesitated, clearly torn.
I kept my smile calm, but inwardly I was anxious.
‘Did I push too hard?’
Maybe I should’ve coaxed her more gently.
No — the Isbart from the novel was always cautious,
but when cornered, she often yielded to pressure.
And just as a bead of sweat rolled down my spine—
“…I swear my loyalty to you, my lord.”
