Chapter 7
“By the way, my fee is expensive. Is that okay?”
Franz’s eyes glimmered meaningfully as he asked, but with the desperation of someone grasping at straws, Tristan nodded vigorously.
“Yes, yes! Our family owns several rare gemstone mines, so finances are not an issue at all!”
“That’s a relief.”
A faint smile curved Franz’s red, plump lips as they peeked out from under his robe. Tristan’s gaze shifted to the woman standing beside Franz.
“This is my daughter, Claire Ravello. We’ll solve your food shortage.”
Tristan was about to ask her exactly how they planned to do so.
But the woman spoke first.
“Return to your marquisate immediately and follow my instructions.”
Her demands were unusual. She asked to be shown the largest field in the territory, then ordered all residents within a hundred-meter radius to vacate their homes.
Surely, she wasn’t planning anything dubious…?
Since the pair’s identity was firmly guaranteed, the likelihood of mischief was extremely low. In the end, Tristan complied, though with lingering doubt.
Even if they turned out to be thieves, there wasn’t anything left to steal. The famine that began last year had forced the residents to sell most of their valuables to secure food.
“Tristan, are you sure about this? Wouldn’t it be better to send someone to monitor them secretly?”
“If they catch us spying, we’ll only be at a disadvantage. For now, let’s wait. We’re only paying them after receiving the food anyway.”
Having been rejected by all other sources of aid, they had no other choice left.
They could only hope Franz Ravello was an even greater and more extraordinary magician than the rumors claimed.
The next day, filled with anxiety, they went to bed and woke up to find the two Ravellos at the marquis’s castle.
“We’ve delivered the food. Please check.”
Father and son rushed to the field.
There, they were astonished to see heaps of famine relief crops piled on the soil. In disbelief, they took a bite to confirm if it was real.
The crisp texture felt vivid and alive. Realizing it wasn’t an illusion or hallucination, the marquis burst into tears.
“Oh, dear God!”
“Father, please don’t cry.”
“Sniff, you stop crying, son.”
Tristan, weeping as he embraced his father, noticed the two had approached them.
He wiped his tears and walked up to them.
“Thank you so much. You are truly the saviors of our territory.”
“Then, shall we settle the bill?”
“Yes, yes. How much is it…?”
“It’s 20 million gold.”
“Yes, I’ll write a check immediately. You can cash it at the Central Bank.”
Tristan took a pen and check handed to him by his aide and was about to write 20 million gold when Claire spoke up.
“By the way, would you be interested in this?”
She pulled a small glass vial from her pocket and whispered suggestively.
“What is this…?”
“This is Edelworth herb, famously known as a deadly poison to monsters. It’s often called the ‘Breath of God.’”
“How… how did you obtain something so rare…?”
Entranced, he took the glowing blue, fluorescent leaf from her hand.
Edelworth was a crucial ingredient in monster repellant potions. Since it only grew in a sacred secret garden within the temple, it was nearly impossible to obtain.
“That’s a trade secret. So, will you buy it or not?”
“Yes, I’ll buy it!”
“It’s 1 million gold per vial.”
In just a few minutes, Tristan spent an additional 30 million gold. Though his money was vanishing quickly, he was more than satisfied with his purchase.
“Well, we’ll take our leave now.”
Having no idea that the two had grown the famine relief crops overnight with no tools or equipment, Tristan was filled with admiration.
As expected, eccentrics of such caliber were truly skilled. To think they defeated monsters and delivered food here!
And with a daughter in tow!
‘…Wait a minute. A daughter?’
Tristan’s jaw dropped as he suddenly remembered Franz Ravello was unmarried.
How could an unmarried man have a daughter?!
His question would be answered months later when a scandal shook the capital.
***
Finally, the last condition was fulfilled.
Thanks to Tristan Graeme’s willingness to spend generously, they managed to gather 40 million gold more than the original goal of 100 million.
Franz and Claire immediately packed their belongings and left their cabin in Alyan Forest. Their destination was, of course, the capital.
With 100 million of their total funds, they purchased a house in the capital. It wasn’t a grand mansion, but it was charming and cozy.
Claire personally interviewed and hired the staff for the house. As a former duchess, it wasn’t a particularly difficult task.
Knowing that showiness often concealed emptiness, she prioritized quiet and composed individuals.
Servants who showed no interest in their master’s affairs and simply did their work diligently.
As she organized the household, memories of the people she left behind in the Muton Ducal Castle came to mind.
‘Lena was so quick-witted. Dorothy was always quiet, and Andy was incredibly efficient…’
They were the few who genuinely treated Priscilla like a true lady in the otherwise cold Muton Duchy.
It would have been nice to bring them back.
But she dismissed the idea, knowing it wasn’t feasible. She couldn’t offer the same wages as the duchy.
After assembling the household staff and organizing the residence, Claire moved on to the next phase of her plan.
Which was to—.
“Now, shall we officially start the business?”
So far, she had been raising money by using the power of blessing to sell rare plants and edible crops.
But it wasn’t enough.
To compete against the Muton Duchy, which owned the largest trading company in the empire, she needed to establish a comparable foundation and secure a long-term, steady source of income.
After all, the basis of revenge is money.
“First, I need to recruit talented individuals to build a trading company with me.”
At that moment, Claire smiled brightly, as she knew just the person for the job.
***
The capital of the Trisanne Empire, Olsen.
Specifically, 4th Street, lined with high-end shops and buildings.
Claire and Franz, cloaked in robes, stepped into a small alley at the edge of 4th Street.
Compared to the bustling central district, this area was much more modest. They arrived at an old and shabby building with a sign that read ‘Ronald Trading Company.’
“This is the place you want to acquire?”
“Yes.”
“It’s more modest than I expected.”
Franz carefully inspected the building’s exterior. The sign looked ready to fall off, and the broken windows were nailed in place.
It wouldn’t have been surprising if the company shut down today.
“Are you sure about this? What if they can’t sell anything?”
“They won’t. The head of this company is Arthur Fervin’s grandson.”
“Arthur Fervin? The legendary merchant?”
Claire nodded.
Arthur Fervin was the most renowned merchant in the Trisanne Empire.
Despite being a commoner, his exceptional business acumen had built immense wealth and earned him a noble title.
It was said that anything he touched turned to gold.
The problem was that he completely failed in raising his children.
None of his children inherited his talent.
After his death, they squandered his wealth and title in harmony, reducing the family to commoners in just one generation.
Unexpectedly, however, Arthur’s talent reemerged in his grandson.
“From a young age, he showed a natural talent for trade. I know him well because he worked for the Muton Trading Company before becoming independent.”
Arthur’s grandson could sell even the most trivial items at a profit, devise groundbreaking business ideas, and quickly calculate to maximize gains.
Arthur Fervin’s former clients also acknowledged his grandson’s abilities, as did the Muton Trading Company.
However, Muton exploited the boy’s talents mercilessly, growing fat off his efforts. When he declared independence, they shamelessly became enraged.
They resorted to all kinds of schemes to oppress the tiny Ronald Trading Company.
‘I’ve seen all the underhanded documents they used to try and take over Ronald Trading Company.’
It was disgraceful and beyond petty. If even an outsider could see that, how much worse must it have been for the person involved?
By now, he must be desperate for a way out of his predicament.
‘I’ll be that way out.’
Claire knocked confidently on the trading company’s door.
Inside, a man with a bored expression sat slouched in his chair.
He glanced at the two visitors before straightening his posture slightly to greet them.
“Welcome. What brings you here?”
Half-lidded eyes and curly auburn hair. Claire recognized him immediately.
‘Ron.’
He was Ron, the owner of Ronald Trading Company.
‘You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.’
When they first met, he was twelve years old—pure, shy, and always giving his best effort.
At the time, newlywed Priscilla had seen her younger brother in the earnest boy and looked after him.
Now, Ron was in his mid-to-late twenties. His demeanor had matured, and his tone had changed slightly.
Feeling the passage of time, Claire approached him.
“You’re the owner of this trading company, right?”
“Yes, I am.”
“We’d like to buy it.”
Ron’s eyes widened at her bold statement.
Claire smiled and pointed her finger at him.
“Together with the owner.”
“What are you talking about…? If you’re here to joke around, I’m not in the mood. Get lost.”
Ron frowned and waved them off. Claire, unfazed, revealed her identity with a calm smile.
“I’m Claire Ravello. And this is my father, Franz Ravello.”
At the same time, a white hand smoothly pulled back her hood.
Claire had been carefully keeping her identity under wraps.
She knew that once she appeared publicly, her resemblance to the young Priscilla would cause a stir.
Until then, she intended to remain cautious and conceal her face.
But she revealed herself to Ron because she trusted him. She had watched him grow up and knew he was discreet.
Ron, upon seeing her face, was startled. He recognized a familiar resemblance.
He quickly recalled the rumors about the eccentric magician’s hidden daughter.
Despite the gossip, the resemblance was uncanny.
As he observed Claire curiously, Ron eventually gathered his thoughts and voiced his question.
“Why does the Ravello family want to buy my trading company?”
His previously nonchalant tone softened slightly. Claire answered nonchalantly.
“To make money.”
“…Are you serious?”
Ron looked at her incredulously.
Among the fierce competition on 4th Street, Ronald Trading Company had no reputation and was very small.
Buying it seemed like a waste of money.
“Sorry, but Ronald Trading Company isn’t promising. You’d be better off with a company in the next alley—.”
“I want to buy it because you’re here. My father said my aunt spoke highly of you.”
“If you mean your aunt… are you referring to the late Duchess of Muton?”
“Yes.”
Ron’s eyes widened in shock.
—
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