Chapter 7
Generaliss was, in many ways, even more unpredictable than Clarice.
Among the nobles — and even more so among the commoners — Generaliss was known as a restless wanderer who never stayed in one place for long.
She had worked countless jobs while roaming across the continent, but her most infamous one was contract killing — assassinations tailored for the aristocracy.
“Hellooo~”
It was this profession that allowed Generaliss, who’d once been born a slave, to earn enormous amounts of gold from nobles.
If the payment was good, she fulfilled any request.
Among readers of The Whereabouts of the Beautiful Flower, her motto had become a running joke:
“If the money’s right, I follow orders — no questions asked.”
“You’ve become even more insolent since you became a noble. Not that you ever had any manners to begin with.”
‘You really can’t hide where you came from.’
Still facing away from Penelope, Generaliss clicked her tongue and smirked mockingly at Clarice.
“Well, our dear Generaliss is still crazy as ever. Didn’t you go to send someone to the Lord recently? You didn’t go with them?”
“What?”
But Clarice was not someone to lose — neither in power nor in words.
Even in front of the Emperor, he’d once said, ‘Stop spouting bullshit,’ and gotten away with it. Clarice didn’t know defeat — it was as distant to him as myth.
“Why? Hit too close to home?”
“…I did not!”
“Oh? Then why are you so angry?”
‘What, did your guilty conscience bite you?’
Clarice’s wicked grin made Generaliss’s shoulders tremble with fury. He was clearly enjoying himself — that grin of someone who knew he’d won.
Generaliss spun around, glaring daggers with her sharp green eyes.
“I can’t believe this…”
In the original novel, Generaliss had been Clarice’s only family — and the bridge that connected him to Castro.
They were cousins, raised together since childhood, and every flashback in the side stories showed their wild youth.
Whenever they met, they bickered. Without fail.
Generaliss would start teasing, and Clarice would hit back — always the same pattern.
“Watch your mouth, you damned mana monster.”
And Generaliss would inevitably explode in anger.
‘What are these two, five-year-olds?’
Watching two full-grown adults fighting like children in front of an eleven-year-old, Penelope could only sigh. The future of this household seemed bleak.
Seeing it in person was so much worse than reading about it. Did they think they were her age? Even kids didn’t fight this immaturely anymore.
“I don’t need to be called a monster by someone who’s addicted to killing.”
“Oh, please. Don’t act righteous. I only kill criminals.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure they just happened to become criminals right before you killed them.”
It was like watching a badminton match — insults bouncing back and forth perfectly in rhythm.
‘Yep. They’re definitely friends.’
“Your Grace.”
“Hm? Ah— sorry. We were a bit loud, huh?”
‘At least you know.’
When Penelope gave him a pointed look, Clarice met her gaze with shameless calmness. His catlike hostility vanished instantly, replaced by a pristine smile.
‘Still the king of hypocrisy.’
“I was going to wait until you arrived, but I got bored.”
‘Then maybe come in through the door like a normal person?!’
She glanced meaningfully at the half-broken window. It was still cracked open from where he’d smashed his way in earlier.
Clarice followed her eyes, then casually snapped his fingers.
With a light click, the broken screws realigned, and the window instantly repaired itself.
“…It’s just annoying to open it manually.”
‘That’s not an excuse!’
‘Why break it if you can fix it that easily?!’
At least the window was fine again — but that wasn’t the point.
‘He’s allergic to normal behavior, I swear.’
“Anyway, there’s someone I’d like to introduce.”
“Someone to introduce?”
“?”
Clarice shifted topics smoothly and jerked his chin toward Generaliss.
Penelope couldn’t refuse to look. Their eyes — both vivid green, yet so different — met.
Clarice’s were clear, bright; Generaliss’s were deep, darker, like a forest after rain.
Generaliss studied Penelope for a long time before speaking in disbelief.
“You really brought something interesting home. Is the world ending or what?”
‘You—’
“You’re a Leranswell, aren’t you? Duke Alexandro’s daughter. Your name is—”
“Penelope Rem Valentine.”
“Penelope Lera—what?”
Rem… Valentine?
Generaliss blinked and exhaled sharply, looking utterly confused.
‘Did I hear that right? I’m only thirty, not senile!’
“Say that again. Who is she?”
Her hands clenched, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Clarice’s voice cut through the tension, calm and unbothered.
“My daughter.”
“……!”
“I was planning for a later introduction, but since we’re all here — Penelope, say hello.”
The warmth from her earlier bath vanished in an instant.
“She’ll be your bodyguard from now on.”
* * *
The alleyway was pitch-black, not a single ray of light reaching its end.
Hidden even within the imperial capital, this forgotten district was one of the city’s many neglected scars.
A man strode into it without hesitation. His steps echoed faintly as he entered a crumbling building that barely stood upright.
The door creaked open with a sound that grated on the nerves. Inside, another man leaned against a cracked desk, trembling as if even standing was a struggle.
He was battered — tortured relentlessly for hours — his red eyes burning faintly in the dim light.
“…You’ve done well.”
“…Where is she?”
Even after endless pain, Duke Leranswell’s voice was raw and filled with fury.
His body ached so badly that breathing itself hurt, but his thoughts were consumed by one person.
The child with the same crimson eyes as him — his only blood.
“She’s confirmed to be at the Valentine Duchy, sir. Security there has doubled.”
“Fools.”
He clutched his chest, his breath ragged. The internal injuries were severe, and blood trickled from his lips.
“They think she’ll be safe there? That place is more dangerous than any prison.”
‘Enemies on every side…’
“No. A father must retrieve his daughter himself.”
Duke Leranswell’s mouth curved into a grim smile.
“I finally got out. I’ll pay them a visit — just once.”
* * *
Even in the novel, Clarice and Generaliss’s past had only been briefly summarized.
They’d once had a peaceful home. But when the Leranswell family fell into corruption, their lives were ruined, and they both ended up on the streets.
At thirteen, their fates split.
Clarice’s immense magic power caught the eye of the previous High Priest, who took him to the temple. Generaliss was left behind.
When she tried to find him later, she nearly died — and afterward, she became a wanderer, drifting across the continent.
When they finally reunited five years later, both had changed beyond recognition.
Clarice was now the empire’s High Priest — and Generaliss, an assassin working for nobles.
At first, they ignored each other, thinking that was best.
But one day, Generaliss nearly died on a mission. Clarice, unable to watch his only remaining family die, saved her life.
That moment rekindled the bond they thought had long been severed.
After that, they often met and stayed in contact — quarreling like old times, but never truly parting again.
“……”
“So you asked Clarice and Castro to adopt you?”
“To… take you in?”
At her nod, Generaliss let out a low whistle.
“Wow. You’re a tough one, kid.”
She popped open a lighter and lit her cigarette.
Smoke drifted lazily out the window as she took a drag.
“You do know what kind of monster Leranswell was, right? He must’ve taught you enough about himself.”
“…Yes. I know.”
‘Too well, actually.’
The self-proclaimed Golden Family had been rotten to the core — far worse than the public ever realized.
It was unforgettable. Unforgivable.
“Word is, he abused you too.”
Generaliss’s eyes narrowed.
“With that bastard’s personality, I can guess. Did he ever make you kill? I heard Leranswell heirs were trained that way.”
“…No. I never killed anyone.”
‘Though he beat me for refusing.’
“That’s good. Once your hands are stained with blood, there’s no going back. Look at us — we’re both broken messes.”
“……”
“Hah, you don’t even deny it.”
When Penelope stayed silent, Generaliss crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.
“I’ll admit, even I was shocked. I never thought Clarice would take in a Leranswell kid. I thought he’d lost his mind. But then…”
‘They said you knew their secret, didn’t they?’
“Leranswell’s information network is deep, but not that deep. There’s more to it, huh?”
“……”
“Don’t wanna say? Fine. I don’t care. Whether they divorce or not — none of my business.”
“…Why don’t you ask?”
Most people would.
“Why I made that choice.”
By tomorrow, the headlines would be everywhere:
‘Daughter of the Leranswell traitors adopted by the Valentine Dukes!’
It would shock the entire empire.
The same dukes who had suffered from Leranswell’s betrayal taking in his daughter — how could that not cause an uproar?
Everyone would ask: Why?
Generaliss took another drag and blew out smoke through her nose.
“Choice?” she repeated, scoffing.
“That wasn’t a choice, kid. It was survival.”
“!”
Survival.
The word echoed inside Penelope’s mind.
Generaliss tied up her messy black hair with a leather cord.
“You came here because you had no other option. If you’d gone anywhere else, you’d be dead by now. Sorry to say it so bluntly, but that’s reality. Am I wrong?”
“……”
‘When you want to live, you’ll do anything.’
“So hang in there.”
“Castro’s indifferent — you can ignore him. Clarice? He’s insane, but manageable.”
“They’re merciful, as long as you don’t cross the line. Endure it. I’ll help you when I can.”
“……”
“…Sorry. I’ve got a bad mouth.”
She exhaled, tone softening just slightly.
“I just mean — you escaped from hell. Don’t waste it. Live, kid.”
She grinned crookedly, eyes half-lidded with something that wasn’t quite pity.
“Penelope Leranswell.”
Her voice was low, steady, and painfully real.
“You’ve got one job now — survive.”
