Chapter 107

—Shaaah…!

The massive hull slowly drew nearer.

The small boat carrying Rodella finally arrived at the kidnappers’ ship.

Rodella fought the urge to keep glancing back.

Even without looking, Aivert’s face kept surfacing in her mind… She tried her best to forget it.

She had come here to stand taller before him, to rely on him less.

Don’t get hurt.

And if by chance she did, she would at least ensure that Benerix and Royden would never face each other directly by uncovering the connection between the noble faction and the kidnappers.

“…”

She renewed her resolve.

—Clack!

A moment later, an old rope ladder was lowered from the deck, and Rodella climbed it one step at a time.

For someone in clerical work, she was surprisingly light on her feet and could have easily leapt onto the deck after only a few rungs.

But she didn’t—she wanted them to let their guard down.

After all, the hostage they wanted in exchange seemed to be someone with no fighting ability whatsoever.

—Tap.

The moment her feet touched the deck, stabbing gazes rained down on her.

Eyes full of wariness dissected her from head to toe.

Rodella didn’t flinch and scanned her surroundings in return.

As I thought. Amateurish.

She had a dagger at her waist, but the ornate sheath looked more ceremonial than practical.

The kidnappers—no, the noble faction’s nobles—looked like they’d never done a day of rough sailing in their lives, with dark circles dragging down their cheeks.

Nervous, aren’t you.

Rodella narrowed her eyes and spoke.

“First, let me check on the hostages’ condition.”

At her words, the nobles exchanged glances.

“Before that, we need to make sure you’re not armed.”

After another round of looks, one man stepped forward.

To check for hidden weapons, he would have to pat down her body.

“…Ahem.”

But could they really lay hands on her?

As expected, even with her arms raised, the man hesitated.

She smirked.

“If a search is necessary, I’ll comply… but I might have to suspect you of not knowing the proper etiquette of nobility.”

She was pointing out that touching a noble lady’s body personally—without delegating it to a servant—was a breach of decorum.

Even with tensions between the noble and imperial factions, etiquette between nobles still held.

They would be reluctant to touch the body of a noble lady without permission.

As expected—

“…It doesn’t look like she has a weapon.”

Unable to bring himself to grope her, the noble retreated.

They were probably also thinking that even if she did have one, she couldn’t defeat them.

“This way.”

One man gestured.

He strolled the ship as if at home and had an oddly distinct appearance.

His hands were covered in calluses.

His skin was pale but sunburned in patches, as though often exposed to sunlight.

Rodella followed him quietly, thinking—

Found him.

The only missing member of the social club capable of piloting a ship.

This man—Viscount Areti from the southern harbor.

And apart from him, no one else aboard seemed familiar with sailing.

Not a single servant was in sight; the tense, unfamiliar faces of the nobles confirmed her guess.

—Clunk.

The viscount opened a poorly maintained cabin door and led her below deck.

Other nobles followed closely, keeping a wary eye on her.

They descended about four levels before the viscount opened another door.

“…!”

People flinched from the sudden light, eyes squeezed shut.

They lay scattered on the floor, wrists and ankles bound, gags stuffed in their mouths.

It matched exactly the list of the missing social club members.

“Once you’re tied up in there, the rest will be freed.”

The viscount spoke politely, without using coarse language—showing at least superficial respect.

Rodella answered in kind.

“Then let me see them unbound first.”

“…!”

Some nobles behind her narrowed their eyes in displeasure.

“There are plenty of them and only one of me. If I get tied up first, what’s to stop you from keeping me here with them?”

She was asking them to show good faith.

“Hmm…”

As they hesitated, Rodella pressed further.

“If I become your hostage, how exactly do you plan to release me later? Surely you don’t intend to kill me?”

The ship was already far from port.

Even if they “released” her, it would be in the middle of the sea.

One noble frowned.

“That’s not the point right now. Our safety comes first.”

“Safety, huh…”

Rodella turned toward him.

“Then I have a proposal. Want to hear it?”

She hoped they might be reasonable enough to talk.

But if they were truly sane, they wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the whirlpool-filled imperial waters—or taken nobles hostage.

Her words made the anxious men bristle.

“If you’re plotting anything, we’ll call off the hostage exchange immediately!”

“Viscount Areti!”

Rodella raised an open hand to show she meant no harm.

“I can’t do anything alone anyway. I’m just curious—why you’re doing this. And whether I’ll make it back alive.”

Then, one man who had seemed hesitant all along suddenly asked an odd question.

“But why are the Azure Knights here instead of the Red Knights?”

Rodella’s eyes gleamed as she turned toward him.

“Why? Were the Red Knights supposed to come?”

“The—”

A noble started to answer, but another clamped a hand over his mouth.

“…Anyway, once we’re far from imperial waters, we’ll release you on a small boat, so don’t worry about that.”

After the brief commotion, one noble spoke again.

Rodella arched a brow.

In the middle of the ocean, in waters where the whirlpools could start again at any moment, on a single small boat?

That was a death sentence.

She was now certain—

They had never intended to let her go.

“Fine. Then release them first.”

The nobles exchanged glances, then finally moved toward the hostages.

With no servants around, they all had to pitch in to get the job done.

Just as Rodella suspected.

“…”

While they worked, she leaned casually against the wall as though she had no intention of interfering.

One by one, the nobles began removing the gags from the hostages.

And just as the sunburned Viscount Areti passed in front of the narrow doorway—

—Flash!

Rodella, who had been waiting for this exact moment, moved swiftly.

From deep within her uniform—where they hadn’t thought to check—gleamed a sharp blade.

—Shrring!

In a heartbeat, she had the dagger pressed to the man’s neck.

“Don’t. Move.”

Her icy voice rang through the ship.