Dammit!

A swarm of vermin blinded by short-term gains!

How could Yahar City ever thrive with these maggots running things?

As long as they remained, the city would never truly grow strong—forever just a cash cow under the Pride Witch’s heel, bled dry at her whim.

They were utterly, hopelessly pigheaded.

Hilris stormed out of the meeting room, fury boiling in his chest.

They’d already agreed: a temporary alliance to eliminate the stone giant threatening Yahar City first, then deal with the troublemakers who’d appeared in town.

But the Covenant Keepers’ leader suddenly demanded to discuss profit distribution *afterward*.

*What distribution?!*

Expelling invaders was thankless work—no one wanted the burden, and there was little profit to be squeezed. Everyone knew that.

No one dared raise the topic of benefits, knowing it would spiral endlessly.

Yet once it started—chaos erupted.

The Joyful Ball and Shadowborn Clan immediately turned on each other, pointing fingers and trading insults over who bore the blame.

The two young heirs who arrived later nearly drew weapons on each other. Only the sanctity of Paradise Land held back an all-out brawl.

Even the Union Works Society joined the fray, demanding compensation.

The Covenant Keepers fanned the flames, whispering provocations here and there. Just as Hilris managed to quell one argument—having nearly argued down the opposition—someone would ignite another dispute.

And bizarrely, the Arcane Assembly, meant to mediate, became the scapegoat.

All four factions suddenly pinned the blame on some idiot’s forbidden spell from the Assembly.

*What muddled brains these fools have!* Hilris couldn’t fathom it.

Thankfully, the meeting adjourned. He needed to find that outsider, Cecile, and get answers.

He’d wanted her to stir chaos and discord—but *this*? This was beyond the plan.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Hilris headed downstairs. He quickly located Cecile’s room.

Without knocking, he twisted the doorknob and strode in, face flushed with anger.

“Cecile! What’s this nonsense? You even dared crush the communication orb I gave you! This isn’t what we agreed!”

A familiar woman in black emerged slowly from the bedroom.

Leaning against the doorway, Cecile regarded him lazily. “How is this different from our agreement? We faithfully executed your orders—shaking the foundations of Yahar City’s factions. Don’t slander an honest worker.”

Hilris frowned. “You look like you just woke up.”

He bristled at her relaxed ease.

*Meow~*

A milk-white kitten with a black patch on its head darted past his feet. Hilris glanced down but quickly refocused on Cecile.

Cecile yawned, nodding. “As you see, I took a short nap. No matter. The work will still get done…”

“Then call off your people *now*!” Hilris couldn’t bear to see Yahar City torn apart any longer.

Without the gangs acting, the city’s useless government would never restore true “peace.”

“That might be… tricky.” Cecile blew lightly on her fingertips. “Your Majesty knows—they’ve followed me through fire and blood. Once they start breaking things and spilling blood, they tend to forget themselves…”

Her thumb and forefinger rubbed together.

“More money.”

Hilris’s eyes flashed with barely contained fire. “You know the agreed sum! *More?!*”

He’d already paid enough. Borrowing more would introduce dangerous uncertainties—debts left traces. Someone would find out.

If his collusion with outsiders was exposed, unifying Yahar City would be the least of his worries. He’d be hunted until his dying day.

Yahar’s people held grudges.

Cecile smiled, as if expecting this. “You only paid half. So we’ll only do half the job. Seems fair.”

“Cecile! This breaks every rule of our trade! You’ll be spat on by thousands! If Yahar falls because of this, your reputation among mages will freeze solid!”

*Half payment upfront was standard!* Who did half the work for half the pay?! It made no sense!

Even if he paid her in full now, Hilris was certain she’d find another excuse to betray him.

“Oh, my reputation as a mage might plummet…” Cecile shrugged.

*So what?*

As a Witch, she was already cursed by thousands. What did a mage’s honor matter to her?

“But tell me—does *my* reputation matter more… or does this entire city? It’s just a little extra coin.”

“Consider it a parting gift from Your Majesty. After all, you planned to kill us once we’d served our purpose, right? Then you wouldn’t need to pay the second half… and could reclaim the first.”

She spoke as if discussing trivialities, utterly indifferent.

“I can offer collateral!” Hilris ground out through clenched teeth.

*Fool!* How had he missed her true nature?

He’d thought her a vicious dog to command—only to find a man-eating tiger.

Now he recalled his own arrogance back then, the hazy rush that made him sign the contract… a contract with loopholes she’d surely exploited.

(Though he admitted—she was right. He *had* planned exactly that.

The only way to quell Yahar’s fury over an outsider’s rampage was with blood.)

Cecile had waited for this concession.

“No problem. Collateral works. I accept advance payment!”

“What do you want?” Hilris pressed immediately. “Artifacts? Ancient tomes? I have relics—even remnants of primordial gods.”

Cecile shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand, Your Majesty. I’m not so vulgar. Money? *Crass.* Talking too much of it ruins the mood. Artifacts, tomes—I’m just a lowlife who can’t appreciate them.”

A contract materialized in her hand. She offered it to him.

“Sign it.”

She paused, then added:

“And serve as my maid for one month.”

“?” Hilris froze.

His face flushed crimson. He glared up at her, ice magic already coalescing in his palms. The room’s temperature plummeted.

“Are you *mocking* me?! Ce—ci—le!!!”