The typhoons that occurred simultaneously that year, sweeping across the entire continent, remained on the front pages of newspapers for a long time.

Even in Evergale, which was located in an area that was bypassed and suffered no particular damage, Helena heard the news every time.

She approached the large map she had pinned next to the calendar. Although it was decorative and showed only rough outlines without details, it was sufficient to retrace the route.

Her index finger, starting from the worn-out edge, stopped in front of the duck-shaped land.

‘If my memory serves me right… Dailon will take a direct hit.’

It might still be a bearable storm now, but it would double in size in just five days.

By then, it wouldn’t come as a simple storm. This would become a disaster.

Something had to be done before that. The guild’s manpower and meager preparations weren’t enough.

‘I need an order that can legally mobilize all of Dailon.’

If there was someone who could do that…

Helena ignored Angry, who was looking at her with bewildered eyes, and rushed out of the dining room.

“We need to secure as many drainage channels as possible and build barriers at the forest boundaries.”

A single voice filled the vast hall.

Garta, the lord of Dailon, frowned as he sat in a chair rimmed with pearls and gilded.

He was well aware of the pressure the space exerted, and had made the hall abnormally large to maximize its effect. As money doesn’t lie, most things went according to his intentions.

Whoever set foot in the corridor, from that moment on, it was natural for them to become thoroughly intimidated. By the time they passed through the elaborately carved high pillars and reached him, their backs were invariably bent.

However, he couldn’t read even a hint of hesitation, let alone fear, from the woman before him. That was the reason for the wrinkles currently between Garta’s brows.

Garta deliberately spoke more nonchalantly.

“Water naturally flows, so if left alone it will resolve itself, and I don’t know what you mean by barriers.”

This time, it was Helena, facing Garta, who frowned.

But soon she skillfully composed her face into a calm expression. Helena knew how much pointless arguments could ruin things.

It was a hard-won opportunity for a private audience. She had a purpose for coming here, even slipping a few banknotes to his minions.

“There is water that doesn’t flow. Stagnant water tends to rot.”

Mentally noting that this referred to him, Helena continued.

“Of course, as you say, my lord, it’s natural for water to flow, so if we just make the paths well, it will be fine. But the problem is the forest. More precisely, the dangerous things the forest contains.”

Garta also realized what this was referring to. Dailon’s biggest headache. Magical beasts.

However, Garta was someone who had never fixed anything with his own hands, and had no will to do so.

His method was to make situations roll on through the sacrifices of those around him who stepped up when they couldn’t bear to watch him anymore.

If only he could discard a few people, it would be possible. He didn’t want to waste precious resources for those insignificant bodies.

“This level of rain has passed every year. There was some damage, but it was recoverable within days. Do I look foolish enough to believe a woman who barges in and tells me to waste public funds on uncertain assumptions?”

The well-crafted words flowed smoothly. Helena’s blue eyes carefully observed him.

From the thick gold rings on each finger joint to the lavish clothes hanging all over his body. Everything was showing raw luxury.

So he could say such things while bathing in gold, not wanting to spend a penny on the well-being of his subjects. It was truly impossible not to admire.

Helena felt a sneer coming out but barely swallowed it and repeated her request.

“This time will be different. A typhoon of a scale that can’t be measured by previous standards will hit. Thorough preparations are needed.”

“What, are you worried that magical beasts might fly around in the wind? Is that why you came here, hm?”

Garta snorted as if it were nothing. He soon leered at her, looking her up and down with gleaming eyes.

“How about we stop this boring talk and you warm my bed instead? Then you’ll soon forget about the typhoon. I can make you… very warm.”

Helena’s fingers itched so badly that she had to clench her fist. She felt her already clenched jaw tightening even more.

“Have you ever been to the forest?”

“What?”

“Dailon’s central district is located in a lower area than the forest. By the time the magical beast eggs accumulated in the forest come down with the debris to the village, it will be too late. No matter how much restoration work is done, magical beasts might appear all over the village within a week.”

“There’s no need to assume the worst-case scenario.”

“What I’ve told you is actually the most optimistic outlook.”

“This is too far-fetched.”

Garta openly showed his discomfort. However, Helena ignored it and continued.

“It’s not far-fetched.”

“We call it far-fetched when someone insists without evidence.”

“You, my lord, should have been the first to sense that evidence.”

“Me?”

Garta let out an insipid laugh. Helena, undeterred, stepped forward with a requesting gesture.

“You probably haven’t smelled new wine lately, that’s because the supply of wine and cheese has been cut off. The Bornu region, which was our main trading partner, couldn’t have escaped the typhoon either. Even at this moment, disaster is approaching, my lord.”

Garta let out a displeased groan at her unyielding attitude.

“No one has ever come to me with such trivial matters before. Everyone else lives without complaints, why are you the only one stepping up? Do you think you have the right to do so in the first place?”

Finally, Helena’s molars clenched.

Rights. If you want to talk about rights.

“Helena Evergale’s-”

Helena, who had spoken unconsciously, stopped midway. She had been holding back well until now, but her reason wavered for a moment in her flare-up.

She was no longer the Grand Duchess. She could no longer command in the name of Evergale.

But she wasn’t nothing either.

She couldn’t be nothing. There were too many things rooted within her, too many things she had started to root in.

Helena closed her eyes and quietly took a breath. Then she opened them and said.

“In the name of Guild Partren, responsible for the defense of Dailon, I demand.”

Her voice was as firm as the will in her eyes.

Garta’s frown deepened as he faced her head-on. It deepened so much that it crumpled as if he had chewed on a bitter herb root.

“…Partren?”

No man disliked conversing with a beautiful woman, and Garta was no exception. He had just been listening to her chirping, thinking he might pass some boring time, but.

If the ignorant lark belonged to the crows’ nest, it was a different story.

“Did Gelda send you?”

His voice, now heavy, carried even a chill. In the suddenly tense atmosphere, Garta sneered.

“If you left on your own feet, you should live quietly as if you’re dead, but here you are, poking around everywhere. How can I leave you alone when you’re spilling such vulgar blood smell? That’s why that X is no good.”

He uncrossed his legs and nodded towards the exit.

“At most, the biggest damage report will be that a few foals were washed away, so stop making a fuss and go.”

“…A fuss, you say.”

Helena clenched her fist as she watched Garta leisurely tilt the wine bottle. She hoped the pain of her nails digging into her palm would bring back her reason, but it was difficult. Words began to spurt out like a sneeze.

“You, living in your high mansion, might just see a puddle that barely wets the ground outside your window, but the villagers living below will have their houses washed away. While you comfortably sip your wine, someone might lose their livelihood and die. We need to build barriers.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“How can it not be necessary when people’s lives are at stake!”

Garta sighed deeply as if truly annoyed.

“You seem to be misunderstanding something, but if it’s not necessary for me, it’s not necessary for Dailon. If there’s no problem with what I have, there’s no problem with Dailon. Do you understand?”

She tried to maintain her composure, but in the end, a faint despair spread across Helena’s face.

‘He’s wrong, he’s going to completely ignore it.’

Garta pulled a cord. A knight who had been waiting outside the door promptly entered. Clad in full iron armor from head to toe, he looked formidable at a glance.

Helena’s face grew even paler as she guessed he would drag her out.

Finally, the knight who had reached in front of the two raised his arm.

However, what happened next was neither what Garta had expected nor what Helena had anticipated.

“Barriers, would this money be enough, my lord?”

A heavy sack fell onto the silver tray used for offerings with a dull thud. Gold coins spilled out of the loosely tied opening.

Garta’s greasy eyes gleamed, and Helena looked at the knight in surprise.

Taking advantage of Garta’s attention being completely focused on the sack of gold coins, the knight standing beside her lifted his helmet and met her eyes. Then he leaned slightly and whispered in her ear.

“If he’s a pig that moves for money, we should control him with money, right?”

Red eyes gleamed mischievously under slightly dampened golden hair.

After that, things went smoothly. Helena almost felt it was unfair that she had engaged in such a tenacious argument with Garta.

But the joy of having resolved the issue somehow took precedence, so she followed the man’s lead for now.

“How did you know I was here, no, that I was having this conversation here?”

“I came here on my own business and saw you, so I secretly followed. I like interesting things, and your face looked exactly like it was going to cause such an incident.”

Helena unconsciously touched her cheek and then asked.

“And how did you get into the hall? They wouldn’t have let you in easily.”

He lightly tapped the surface of his shoulder plate with the bone of his bent finger joint, as if to show off.

“It’s a transformation-like disguise.”

“…Ah.”

I asked something too obvious. Combined with what had just happened, a small embarrassment washed over her.

Helena turned her head to the opposite side of him to hide her face.

“I feel so stupid.”

Instead of trying to see her face, Ilai grabbed her elbow and changed direction.

Whether it was because of the soft carpet laid in the corridor or because he was naturally skilled at concealing his presence, there was no metallic sound typical of armor.

Just as Helena was thinking how quite interesting it was, Ilai spoke.

“You have your own way, and I have mine. Rather, I only know how to use underhanded methods, so I envy your straightforwardness.”

“Using money doesn’t always mean it’s an underhanded method, you know.”

“It is when the money isn’t mine.”

“…?”

Did he borrow it, or did he raise funds from somewhere? When she raised a questioning look, he let out a small chuckle.

The corner of his mouth, raised crookedly on one side, suited him better than she had expected. Like wearing a perfectly fitting outfit, his face seemed to wear a perfectly fitting expression.

He confirmed that they were out of earshot of the knights standing on either side of the exit at the end of the corridor, then revealed the truth.

“The real fool is that guy. He’s probably grinning from ear to ear right now, not realizing it’s going back into his own pocket.”

“What do you mean…”

“I stole it.”