7.
Looking back, Lancel hadn’t placed much expectation or worry on Regressor Marigold.
Watching her live leisurely at Baron Ibil Shen’s mansion made it hard to feel otherwise.
Even her alias, Lemon Verbena, which likely had no real meaning, didn’t stir much thought.
‘It’s normal for first-time regressors to act oddly.’
Each time a letter arrived via her familiar, the crow, Lancel simply thought as much.
It was like an experienced regressor watching a newbie… something to that effect.
A life that was neither dangerous nor full of opportunity.
In this regression, Regressor Marigold seemed destined to settle somewhere along those lines. If Lancel didn’t interfere, it was highly likely to stay that way.
…At least that’s what he thought until yesterday.
============
—Fame event triggered! 50 gold coins have been donated to the Imperial Church in the name of Marigold!
==========
“…Am I still half-asleep?”
Lancel doubted his eyes.
‘50 gold coins? Not silver, but gold?’
The message notification that Marigold donated 50 gold coins lingered on his retina like an illusion.
He hadn’t misread it after all.
It was indeed 50 gold coins.
Exactly one week had passed since he sent the letter to “Lemon Verbena,” instructing that the maid Marigold receive a baronet title, with barely a shred of expectation. One week. Just one week.
For reference, during that time, Marigold faithfully lived as a parasitic maid, loafing as usual.
So when did she gain such a sum?
How on earth did she manage it?
‘What are you up to now, Marigold!’
It was around this time that strange phenomena could be observed occurring around Lancel.
8.
“Take a look at this, Sir Lancel. Don’t you feel something special?”
“…?”
Lancel stared with furrowed brows at Baron Ibil Shen, who suddenly appeared with a smug expression.
He hadn’t expected the potbellied nouveau riche to demand a fashion critique. Lancel’s displeasure showed plainly on his face.
“What’s with that reaction? You’re embarrassing me.”
“…What do you want me to say?”
“No, look at this. Here.”
In the direction he pointed, a necklace hung, adorned with something that Lancel thought looked familiar.
“Coral?”
“I knew you’d recognize it! Why pretend otherwise? It’s Coral, from the far-off coast.”
It was a necklace strung with colorful coral beads.
When dried and kept in a pouch, the coral gave off a refreshing scent, serving as a kind of air freshener for islanders. During his days writing the seafood travelogue, Lancel had worn something similar.
‘How did this get here?’
Lancel looked at the necklace with half delight and half suspicion, wondering how such an object reached the Imperial Capital.
“Let me know if you need one. These days, you’re considered outdated among the capital’s nobles without it.”
“Yes… but how did something from such a distant region become trendy?”
“It wasn’t too long ago. When a couple of nobles had them, I thought it was some odd trinket. But then, didn’t His Highness the Prince start wearing one? It spread like wildfire after that.”
‘A prince? Wearing that thing?’ Lancel wondered if multiple regressions led to witnessing such oddities.
‘What an odd trend.’
…The thought lasted only until he saw Baron Ibil Shen rush back to the mansion.
“Damn it, I should’ve bought them earlier! If I’d known, I’d have stocked up!”
“Why are you running around kicking up dust?”
“Coral, the coral!”
Even in his frantic preparations to leave again, Baron Ibil Shen tossed back a reply.
“The coral being delivered to the capital was stolen by bandits! They say there won’t be any supply for months. The price has already jumped tenfold! Is that even reasonable?”
“…Well, how much was it originally?”
“Until recently, a pouch was twenty silver coins.”
Twenty silver coins per pouch, ten times that would be two gold coins. It was certainly expensive.
“It’ll go up even more. I need to buy now, or I’ll just watch others make money! I can’t stand that!”
Baron Ibil Shen stormed off, clutching a pile of money.
Merchants who’d hoarded stocks were raking in gold without moving, which clearly irked the baron.
‘Hold on.’
Lancel felt that something was off. He glanced towards the mansion’s corridor, spotting Marigold hiding in a corner, only half-cleaning.
“La la, la la la”
She wiggled her toes, humming an unfamiliar tune.
‘No way.’
Lancel couldn’t believe it.
He looked at her.
‘…’
He couldn’t quite understand.
Suspicion sprouted in his heart.
‘Maybe I’m overthinking it.’
“…That’s what happened.”
“Yes, Sir Lancel.”
The next day, Lancel summoned a man to the mansion—the Thieves’ Guild Master—who was more informed about the capital than anyone else.
“I called you to ask why that item suddenly became popular and why its price skyrocketed. Do you have any information?”
“It’s due to the nobles’ greed and faith, Sir Lancel.”
“Greed and faith?”
“Yes.”
Greed, sure, but faith?
As Lancel tilted his head, the Thieves’ Guild Master continued.
“You mean this, right?”
The guild master rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a coral pouch.
“Now, it’s just another luxury item, but when it first spread, it was called a holy relic that was said to repel demons. Looks can be deceiving.”
“Coral? A holy relic?”
Lancel furrowed his brow.
“Isn’t it just a fragrant trinket?”
“It is, in reality. But nobles claim that they threw it at a demon, and it dropped dead in one hit. Just a rumor, though.”
“…How did such a superstition spread?”
“Exactly. So many nobles insist they saw it with their own eyes—so what can you do? People just continued to go along with it.”
The Thieves’ Guild Master poured the coral onto his palm and continued speaking.
“They say they sprinkled it on a moving corpse, and it collapsed into dust. Believe it or not, that’s how it became known as a demon-repelling relic.”
A moving corpse.
‘Dark magic.’
The realization hit Lancel like a lightening bolt, nearly knocking his soul out.
Baron Ibil Shen hadn’t mentioned this. After all, the baron wouldn’t believe superstitions unless he saw them himself.
But Lancel knew otherwise.
There was a dark mage who’d recently amassed suspicious wealth, casually donating 50 gold coins to the Imperial Church.
‘Marigold, I know this is your doing.’
She had used dark magic to spread superstition and profited from it.
“Not long after, a trading company supplying coral in bulk appeared in the capital…”
The Thieves’ Guild Master spoke again, “They gave shares to some high-ups for free, and from then on, it exploded in popularity.”
“Quite the savvy company owner… knowing that sharing profits with nobles pays off.”
“Exactly.”
“So that’s why you said greed and faith?”
“Yes, you catch on quick, Sir.”
“Cut the flattery.”
“Ah, yes.”
Lancel grew curious.
“What’s the name of that trading company?”
“Well…”
The Thieves’ Guild Master scratched his head.
“Nobody knows.”
.
.
.
“Sir Lancel.”
A soft voice called out.
Marigold’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.
“Sir Lancel.”
It wasn’t just one. Suddenly, countless Marigolds materialized around Sir Lancel, swarming toward him.
“Master.”
“Disciple.”
“Young Master Lancel.”
There was a heavy weight.
The arms of countless Marigolds wrapped around him like snakes, rendering him immobile for some reason.
“Hehehe, come here!”
Struggling against the onslaught of Marigolds that appeared from all sides, Lancel suddenly snapped his eyes open.
“…”
He found himself lying on a sofa. He must have dozed off while resting.
“A dream, huh.”
A nightmare, or else something similar.
His throat felt parched.
As he reached for a nearby jug of water, Lancel suddenly noticed.
“Mmm.”
Marigold was clinging to his side, still in her maid outfit, drooling as she slept.
‘No way.
Was she the cause of the nightmare?’
“어이.”
“Hey.”
Lancel pinched her cheek but got no response.
A maid clinging to a noble like that.
Lancel flicked her forehead.
Thwack!
“Eek!”
Afterward, Marigold was assigned a month of cleaning as punishment.
It was by Lancel’s order.
10.
—Darkhood here.
That day, at dawn, Lancel snatched the letter from the crow and read it quickly.
—As you instructed, a person named Mary has joined our secret organization as an executive. As expected of someone recommended by Sir Lancel Dante, she seems highly capable.
‘Self-praise, huh.’
—I heard she’s been punished with cleaning for a minor mistake. She’s a good person, so perhaps you could generously forgive her?
‘…?’
—From what I’ve seen, she’s deeply remorseful, even skipping walks and snacks for two days. If the magnanimous Sir Lancel could overlook it once, we’d be truly grateful.
‘Shameless, Marigold.’
Pleading for leniency behind the guise of Lemon Verbena.
Lancel curled one corner of his mouth, muttering, “You think that’ll work?”
A month of cleaning as punishment for giving him a nightmare was lenient enough.
—P.S.: Our first meeting is scheduled in a week. If possible, please attend. To avoid exposing your identity, come in wearing a disguise.
—From Darkhood’s Lemon Verbena.
“A meeting?”
Without hesitation, he grabbed a quill. He wanted to know what Marigold’s secret organization was really like.
After expressing his intent to attend, a reply with the meeting’s location and date arrived promptly.
—Location: Baron Ibil Shen’s mansion.
—Time: Midnight, one week from now.
“That’s right here.”
Did she pick this place because she was too lazy to go far? It was hard not to suspect that. The time was also when Marigold, whose schedule flipped day and night, was most active.
‘…How did someone like her get that kind of money…’
In any case, a week passed in a flash.
The day of the meeting finally arrived.
============
—Encounter event triggered! You have met Third Prince Yuri Langris Freesia.
—Encounter event triggered! You have met Second Prince Arwen Louis Freesia.
==========
There, Lancel met the two princes.
