Molly Dewell, 31, was the eldest daughter of House Dewell, first in line for succession, elder sister to Torina Dewell—and the undisputed master of Valhalla City.
After she stepped from the carriage, a fourteen-year-old boy followed closely behind. Sharing seventy percent of her features, he bore the Dewell family’s signature black hair and crimson eyes, though his demeanor was gently scholarly. This was Jodel Dewell, eldest grandson of House Dewell, Molly’s son, and Torina’s nephew.
“Madam Molly, Master Jodel—welcome to your residence.”
The mansion’s aged butler greeted them warmly. Molly gave a slight nod; Jodel shook his hand politely.
“Sebastian, how are the celebration preparations?” Molly asked, her tone detached.
“All proceeding smoothly. This year’s attendees outnumber last year’s. The Papatin family—the distinguished guests you mentioned—arrived last week and have been awaiting your arrival.”
“Have them come see me this evening, after I’ve bathed and changed.”
“Additionally, I received a magical message from Miss Torina yesterday. She will arrive shortly.”
“……Oh?”
At Torina’s name, Molly arched an eyebrow mockingly.
“Is my lazy, good-for-nothing little sister coming to cause a scene? Does she think this is a resort?”
“She mentioned bringing several guests. She seemed quite serious.”
“Hmph. How serious could she be? Probably just playing house with her little adventurer troupe. That girl contributes nothing to the family—only spends money… Wait. Did Lady Papatin bring up the marriage alliance again?”
“She mentions it daily. She seems eager to betroth her youngest daughter to your son.”
“Naturally. For the Papatins, allying with us is the quickest path into high nobility. A marriage alliance would strengthen ties—but Jodel is still too young.”
“It’s not only the Papatins. The Corleone family from the south, Shangguan family from the east, Anor Londo Royal Family from the north, the Golden Clan from the central region… nearly every major house here has proposed a match.”
“If they’re so eager… hmm… their young masters must be here too?”
“Yes.”
“Heh. I have an idea.”
A sly smile touched Molly’s lips. *Perfect candidate right under our nose.*
She had a sister of marriageable age. Those climbing families had plenty of eligible sons. What a coincidence.
Force the frivolous Torina—always chasing leisure and adventure—to settle down. Put that pretty-faced, airheaded sister to work for the family. Two birds with one stone.
“Sebastian, announce this to the entire city:”
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Dawn light bathed the land. A breeze carried the scent of grass and ancient trees. Gray stone streets gleamed snow-bright under the sun.
On the horizon, a colossal mountain rose sharply against the flat plains—clearly unnatural. Starfall Mountain cast a leaden-gray halo and a vast shadow over the earth. At its base stood a square stone city, spires piercing the sky. Rune-etched banners fluttered visibly even kilometers away.
On the carriage, Torina introduced the scene to her three companions. “That’s Valhalla City. Built six hundred years ago under House Dewell’s direction. Technically an enclave of the Northern Kingdom in the central continent—but directly managed by our family.”
“The family ceremony begins soon. Young talents from everywhere come seeking power… though most are here for networking. Anyway—I only told the old butler I was coming. Let’s keep this visit low-key.”
“It’s your family’s territory. Why stay low-key?” Annawiel asked.
“Could it be… you don’t get along with them?” Mylora ventured, her Phoenix Overlord instincts sharp.
“…You could say that,” Torina murmured, slightly flustered. “I’ve always been… carefree. They see me as a bad example.”
“You’re not! To me… you’re the best!” Mylora declared instantly.
“I feel the same!” Annawiel added quickly.
“Me too~” Patti chimed in.
“Thank you, everyone…”
*Sniff.* A warm lump rose in her throat. *Is this… the power of love, friendship, and bonds?*
…
…
Soon, they reached the city gates.
Guards of House Dewell granted passage after a brief glance at Torina. She specifically instructed them not to disclose her arrival.
“…You want us *not* to spread the word?”
“Are you serious?”
“Hm? Problem?”
“N-no… nothing…”
“Please, go ahead…”
The guards seemed puzzled, but Torina paid it no mind. She had the coachman drive the modest carriage straight in and drew the window curtains shut.
Valhalla City’s avenues were wide, flanked by towering stone spires. Nobles in silks, warriors radiating strength, mercenaries, adventurers, merchants—crowds thronged the streets. Their humble carriage stood out for its quiet simplicity.
Yet—
“Captain… everyone’s staring at us,” Patti warned.
“Huh?”
Torina parted the curtain slightly and peered out.
Sure enough.
Every eye—nobles, mercenaries, merchants, adventurers—locked onto their carriage. Their gazes gleamed… like wolves eyeing succulent meat.
What’s going on…?
“Torina, look up there…” Mylora pointed.
Torina squinted upward.
Atop a high spire hung a massive portrait of a maiden: skin pale as snow, hair flowing like midnight waterfall, eyes crimson as blood. Voluptuous figure—ample curves, willow-slim waist, peach-shaped hips, legs sculpted to captivate the world.
“…Who *is* this absurdly, divinely, seductively beautiful girl?”
“That’s *you*! Stop secretly praising yourself!” Annawiel flicked her forehead.
“Captain, your posters are everywhere. You can’t look up without seeing one,” Patti added.
“There’s text…” Mylora’s voice tightened. “It says… ‘Only the worthy strong may claim such beauty. The top performer shall—’"
“—‘be granted the honor of marrying Torina Dewell, second young lady of House Dewell’??? WHAT?!” Annawiel gasped.
“I can’t believe this!” Torina froze.
*Wait…*
In the original story, that scumbag guild captain Dolina *did* have a fiancée—purely a plot device for the hero to steal. How the engagement happened? Never explained. Irrelevant.
But if the gender-swapped reality mirrors the plot…
*(Are they… arranging a fiancé for me???)*
