The End Of The Special Contract Marriage (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15
The guild commissioned by Duke Vandermir was one known for its high success rate and for primarily taking on dishonorable tasks.
At the same time, it was also a guild comprised of people who wouldn’t hesitate to attack a noble lady from a prestigious house—as long as they were paid enough.
Given the high risk involved, the duke offered an enormous sum and made a simple request.
“Just wound her somehow—badly enough that she can’t move for a while.”
Considering their target was a mage, the guild dispatched five mercenaries—a generous number, by their standards.
How formidable could a mage obsessed with research possibly be? Surely frail and weak—and on top of that, a woman. Honestly, she seemed an easy mark.
They deliberately staged it to look as if Damian had summoned her, placed Aracila alone in a carriage, and took her to a secluded place.
This way, it would appear she’d been injured while going to meet her fiancé, sowing ample seeds of discord between them later on.
Including those disguised as the coachman and servants, a total of five mercenaries surrounded the carriage, just in case Aracila tried to flee.
But no matter how long they waited, the inside remained eerily silent—no signs of movement, no voices.
One mercenary pressed his ear to the door and said with suspicion, “What’s going on? Is she really in there? Why isn’t she reacting at all?”
“Yeah, seriously—did she fall asleep or something?”
Another mercenary clenched his fist and pounded the carriage door hard enough to shatter it. Still, there was no response from within.
“Could she be frozen in fear?”
“Pfft! Well, judging by her portraits, she’s just a delicate little noble girl.”
“Let’s just open the door and drag her out. We’re wearing defensive armor, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
They had come wearing extremely expensive armor said to block any magical assault. Though overkill against a frail young lady’s magic, it left them confident they’d be unharmed even if attacked.
The mercenary who’d knocked on the door grabbed the handle and turned it. He intended to enter alone and haul Aracila out himself.
‘Just cripple one leg and earn a few hundred million gold? That’s a great deal.’
Heh heh—he let out a vile chuckle. Having taken noble assassination contracts before, this job seemed utterly trivial to him.
‘Let’s wrap this up quickly and go grab a drink…’
Thud!
“Aaagh!”
The mercenary, having just stepped into the carriage, was struck by something and sent flying, tumbling helplessly across the ground. His armor cracked loudly down the middle and fell apart to either side.
“What—what the hell?!”
“Why’d you suddenly collapse like that?!”
Caught off guard, the remaining mercenaries panicked and scrambled in confusion. The one who’d been thrown lay unconscious, groaning weakly.
“What on earth is—?!”
At that moment, the carriage door, which had swung halfway shut from the recoil, burst fully open. All eyes turned to the woman who emerged calmly.
Aracila, wearing her Mage Tower uniform adorned with four star badges on her chest, glanced around at the mercenaries and gave a faint smile.
“Looks like you’ve got a foolish master. Sending you to ambush me in cheap armor like that—did he just underestimate me outright?”
In truth, while the mercenaries’ armor was indeed remarkable, Aracila’s magical power was so overwhelming that it rendered their defenses utterly useless.
Sweeping her gaze over their pale, stunned faces, Aracila sneered.
She’d faced similar situations countless times before. Most people habitually dismissed her simply because she was a female mage.
Her impressive achievements as a mage were overshadowed by her striking beauty and unconventional behavior, causing outsiders to underestimate her greatly. Everyone gossiped about her looks, but no one paid attention to Aracila Hugo the mage.
Thus, only upon meeting her—and experiencing her power firsthand—did they finally understand.
Why Aracila Hugo was being considered as the next Mage Tower Lord.
“I’ll give you one chance. Kneel before me right now and confess who ordered this. If you do, I might just show mercy.”
With her arms crossed, she lifted her chin regally and commanded them. The sheer presence radiating from her slender frame made the mercenaries hesitate.
Their instincts screamed danger like never before. Beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.
Yet the sum Duke Vandermir had offered was far too large—and their pride too wounded—to simply kneel now.
“Everyone, attack!”
One mercenary drew his sword from his waist and shouted. Watching the men charge at her with battle cries, Aracila clicked her tongue.
Why were there so many people in this world who couldn’t seize the opportunity even when it was handed to them?
“O Divine One, once again today, I send these foolish sheep to Your side.”
She offered a prayer as if a devout believer, then summoned her magic, tinged with violet hues.
Ordinary magic was white, but the more powerful a mage’s abilities, the more uniquely colored their magic became. Aracila’s violet magic was currently unmatched within the entire Mage Tower.
“Agh!”
“Urgh!”
Like leaves swept away by the wind, the mercenaries were flung or slammed into things one by one. Swirling magical energy protected her so thoroughly that none could even graze a single hair on her head.
Aracila calmly eliminated her enemies where she stood. When only one remained, she halted her assault and ensnared him in chains of violet magic.
“Ugh… ugh!”
The man trembled violently, his throat tightly coiled in magical energy after failing to bite his tongue and kill himself.
Aracila walked up to him and spoke gently.
“You absolutely won’t die. I must take you back alive—as evidence.”
“…!”
The man gasped. Above his eyes loomed Aracila’s face, smiling coldly.
“Now then, if you’d like to keep your body intact, why don’t you start by telling me who ordered this?”
[This is the timeline separator]Damian wasn’t surprised when, at sunset, his visitor turned out to be Aracila—they’d arranged to meet today, and she’d even sent word she’d be late.
What startled him was that she dragged a man in by his collar and tossed him at his feet.
“What is this man?”
“A wedding gift from your family before the ceremony.”
Having visited several times before, Aracila settled comfortably onto the sofa and flicked her uniform collar. On closer inspection, her clothes were oddly disheveled.
Damian glanced between the bound man, gagged and tied up, and Aracila smoothing her hair, quickly piecing together what had happened.
Apparently, House Vandermir had stooped so low as to send something resembling an assassin after Aracila.
They likely hadn’t dared kill Hugo’s daughter outright—instead intending to threaten or injure her badly enough to prevent the wedding.
“I’m sorry. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Damian first offered an apology, wiping his brow with his palm.
She’d agreed to marry him, only to suffer this incident. Perhaps her feelings had changed completely this time. He apologized first in hopes of mitigating any damage.
“No, I’m fine. But why are you apologizing? Did you send him?”
“Do you think I’m mad? I’d worry more about your safety than you would yourself.”
Damian let out a deep sigh and looked at Aracila with solemn eyes. Despite the perilous situation, she seemed perfectly unharmed except for slightly rumpled clothing.
She showed no signs of exhaustion or fear, nor did her resolve to marry appear shaken.
Damian summoned Isaac to take the man away, then sat opposite Aracila.
“Just to be sure—has this incident made you reconsider marrying me, even slightly?”
“Not at all—it’s burning even brighter now. The harder a flower is to break, the more stubborn I become.”
Though her lips curled into a playful smile, her sapphire-like eyes shone with unwavering determination.
Now cast as the flower Aracila intended to conquer, Damian asked with evident confusion, “Why are you so intent on marrying me?”
“I already told you—I want to stop my sister from marrying Lord Vandermir.”
“So your eagerness goes this far, just for that reason?”
“Just that? It concerns my family.”
An emotion Damian could never comprehend rippled across her pale, delicate face—love, devotion, sacrifice for family.
It was a feeling utterly alien to someone like him, who wished his own family dead.
“I don’t want my sister to marry Lord Vandermir and become unhappy.”
“I agree that marrying my brother would likely bring unhappiness, but you seem far more certain than I am.”
Oscar Vandermir was infamous as a rake who’d left no woman untouched in the duchy. Rumors of him must have reached even the capital’s social circles.
Yet even so, was this really enough reason for Aracila to obsess over the marriage so intensely? Among nobles, many couples maintained only formal unions, and many openly took lovers.
Perhaps having grown up in an overly harmonious household, she couldn’t tolerate even that level of unhappiness—or perhaps…
“It’s as though marrying my brother would literally kill your sister.”
She must be hiding something deeply.
Aracila gazed at Damian with quiet eyes—deep as the boundless ocean, impossible to fathom.
“There is indeed a possibility. Lord Vandermir gives the impression he’ll attempt treason at least once in his life.”
At those words, Damian let out a hollow laugh bordering on mockery.
“My timid, small-minded brother?”
“You don’t understand. It’s precisely people like that who plot treacherously behind the scenes. Isn’t that exactly why I want to marry you?”
“…Won’t you regret it?”
This would be his final chance to ask for her consent. Selfish as it might be, Damian intended to push forward with the marriage regardless afterward—without giving her space to hesitate.
“No. How could I regret it when it’s for my family? Don’t worry—I won’t back out halfway.”
Aracila smiled faintly, accurately addressing Damian’s concern. Her clear, resonant voice carried an inexplicable sense of trustworthiness and sincerity.
Not that Damian fully trusted her yet.
“Understood. I’ll handle the aftermath of today’s incident. This won’t happen again.”
“Good. The wedding isn’t far off—let’s hope no more nuisances arise.”
As she said this, Aracila checked the time. Having taken a detour, she’d arrived so late that evening had already fallen.
It seemed impossible to discuss the prenuptial contract clauses today.
“We’ll talk about the contract terms again tomorrow.”
“Very well.”
As she stood to leave, Damian followed her to the door and opened it himself. Instead of offering a handshake, Aracila simply nodded.
“I’ll be off.”
Just as she stepped forward to leave, Damian abruptly blocked her path. Confused, she looked up to see his smooth, porcelain-like face suddenly close to hers.
…What was this unexpected face assault?
Caught off guard, Aracila stood still as Damian scrutinized her carefully with his eyes, then stepped aside.
“I was just making sure you truly weren’t injured anywhere.”
“…”
“Please take care on your way home.”
He bowed deeply and respectfully. Aracila let out a soft, deflated chuckle.
“What if I’m hurt somewhere hidden by my clothes?”
“I’m afraid I can’t check those parts for you. If you find injuries at home, please bill me for treatment costs.”
“Never mind.”
She wasn’t hurt at all anyway. The slight disarray in her clothing was merely from the wind caused by her swirling magic.
After exchanging a nod, Aracila strode away briskly.
Once she’d disappeared into the distance, Damian summoned Isaac again. After all, the best clean-up was always swift and thorough.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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Thank you for translating/sharing this. Such an adorable story!