After setting up a small assembly-line-like contraption, Lilithia successfully forged a hundred swords to complete the task—though the reward could hardly be called "generous."
After all, the client clearly hadn’t expected high-grade blades. They were the type who’d fling out dozens of swords at once, never bothering to fully retrieve them. Each use likely meant some swords were written off as scrap.
Using top-tier swords would’ve been pure extravagance for nobles.
Still, this job proved Lilithia’s skill as a smith. She could now hang a sign outside her forge:
"Custom weapons (armor), repairs, and upgrades (up to Intermediate Mage tier)."
Business at this level thrived—most people operated around this rank anyway.
On the frontlines, the only snag was military orders disguised as "quests." These paid poorly but offered hefty military merits. Yet, they fell far short of earning nobility.
Truthfully, a smith needed nearly a decade of nonstop military service to gain nobility through merits alone.
Exceptional smiths were another story—but even nobles couldn’t hire them. Those masters cared only about pay, often earning honorary titles from the Empire.
"So, what next?" Verutan asked, dusty and disheveled. "Those adventurers are jerks! They stole my bounty!"
She’d just taken a quest to harvest monster honey, only to have the prize snatched away.
"I recall that honey’s used in life-restoring potions. High demand means good pay—so adventurers always swarm it," Lilithia said. She knew potions and minerals well from her magic academy days.
"You don’t seem stung much?"
"Bees hurting me? I armored myself in ice. They wouldn’t come near. After grabbing the honey, I ditched the ice armor—they couldn’t track me. You said bees follow scents, right?"
Pretty clever.
Lilithia was surprised. "Then how’d they steal it?"
"Well… while I faced the bees, those bastards used wind magic to blow the hive right at me! The bees thought I was with them and went berserk. If I hadn’t used my Great Flame Cyclone, it’d have been messy."
"Great Flame Cyclone?"
"The move you interrupted during our duel."
Sounded terrifying. Wait—wasn’t she the Tulip Empire’s Empress? Shouldn’t her inherited magic be elegant, like blooming flower fields? A brute-force spell like Great Flame Cyclone felt all wrong.
"Do you remember who they were?"
"Of course." Verutan crossed her arms proudly. "Don’t interfere. This grudge is mine. I’ll get revenge—but not yet. You’re right: on a real battlefield, I’d die without this experience. Surviving to fight another day matters. I’m not ready for war yet."
This kid was calmer than expected… and kinda petty.
*Does she hate me too? Probably not… right?*
"Enough talk. Today, I’m giving you math problems. You must score 100%."
"!"
Verutan’s expression turned as sour as a bitter melon.
Lilithia’s tone was firm. "I don’t know how the Empress raised you, or what tutors taught you—but your education’s lacking. Maybe she let you run wild. I won’t."
She’d made Verutan miserable lately. Verutan swore she’d never suffered so much: daytime quests, nighttime math drills. Only Lilithia’s amazing cooking offered comfort. *Maybe I’ll make her my royal chef someday.*
No… this woman’s heart is vicious. If she cooked for me, she’d probably poison me.
Lilithia had no clue Verutan saw her as "vicious." She thought she was reasonable.
"Oh! Where’s your wand?"
"Family tradition: you get your own wand at sixteen. Before that, you make one. But Sword Saint Fiore rushed me out—I left mine at home."
"I’ll craft one for you. What style do you want?" Lilithia offered casually. She knew wands were profitable. They were fussy to make—and demanded high aesthetics.
Yes. Mages obsessed over "elegance." Useless to Lilithia, but everyone demanded it. So wands needed sleek designs alongside magical efficiency, driving up prices.
A creative, beautiful wand could sell for dozens of times its cost. Some mages even named theirs—silly to Lilithia, but she benefited. Lately, she planned to craft wands first, earn wealth, then upgrade her smithing skills.
Smithing devoured money. Constant forging was needed to break through skill barriers.
Besides, Lilithia considered forging her own gear. "No frontline duty"? War was unpredictable. This supply hub near the border? If she were the enemy, she’d strike here first.
If ambushed, she couldn’t afford to die instantly—she’d need time to summon Fiore.
Days blurred into busy routine—Lilithia’s hunch was right.
A month later, the attack came.
After hiding underground with earth magic and having Verutan seal them in an ice barrier, Lilithia finally breathed easy.
"Luckily you weren’t on a quest today. Don’t fear—it’s messy. But wait… the enemy’s just a kingdom? Who’s bold enough to strike first? Do they think the Tulip Empire won’t dare move Fiore?"
She’d suspected this.
Fiore’s rise to Sword Saint had upgraded the nation from kingdom to empire—but time was too short. Beyond freaks like Fiore and his harem, the Tulip Empire’s foundation was weak. Militarily, it barely matched neighboring kingdoms.
If the Crystal Orchid Empire promised to trap the Sword Saint in the capital, those kingdoms wouldn’t hesitate to attack.
Her old belief—that the Tulip Empire would start any war—was wrong.
Lilithia had expected upheaval, but not this soon. She didn’t know the surface battle’s outcome; honestly, the Tulip Empire might not lose.
Still, hide first.
Wait a few days.
Lilithia had studied maps. Their base sat in a mountain-ringed basin. Even if seized, enemies wouldn’t hold it long—it was deep in Tulip territory. The sharpening Empire wouldn’t let a chunk be bitten off. The Empress would reclaim it. So hiding was wise.
"What’s that big bag you’re dragging?"
"Food. Freeze it first."
Verutan never imagined Lilithia could be this… survival-savvy. She hadn’t even considered fighting aboveground.
"I heard Sword Saint Fiore once held off enemies alone east of here. He blocked them for three days and nights."
"?"
Lilithia spun around. "I’ve never heard that!"
"Back then, he didn’t use his real name. And that battle was a shame for the Tulip Empire—if not for his fight, the kingdom would’ve lost a quarter of its land. The old woman tells that story often."
Only a protagonist could pull that off.
Lilithia was stunned Fiore’s legend existed here too—told by the little Empress herself.
"How old was he then?"
"Fourteen."
"Phew. I’ve got three years to catch up." Lilithia exhaled. "Listen, Verutan. Three years. Give me three years to grow. I’ll match him—or surpass him!"
"?"
Verutan was shocked. This girl—the "vicious woman" she’d labeled—was her age.
She’d known it from the start. But since their first meeting, this teen never treated her as an equal. She’d looked down like an adult at a child… and Verutan had accepted it.
From the beginning, this woman wasn’t chasing anything.
Maybe she should’ve realized it at their first meeting: this woman’s eyes were fixed on one man. Chasing his footsteps.
