Chapter 170: Dragon’s Dispute
His ever-dedicated manager almost never asked for help. And when she did, it was always something related to Alrova Merchant House.
So if Hilda was asking now—judging from the look on her face—it had to be something serious.
Of course, Gara wasn’t going to refuse her outright. No matter how difficult her request might be, he had to at least listen.
"What help do you need?"
Hilda’s hands, resting stiffly at her sides, clenched into the fabric of her dress. She looked uneasy. So unlike the Hilda he knew.
"First... I want to apologize, Master." She lowered her head, guilt written all over her face.
"Alright. Why are you apologizing?" Gara asked calmly, while lifting a finger. A thin stream of water flowed from his fingertip, gliding across the air into a cup on the shelf.
The cup filled, then floated over to Hilda, carried by his water.
"Drink first. No need to be so tense. We should talk about this out front." Gara glanced around the nearly empty storage room and chuckled softly. Absolutely not a place for serious conversation.
Flustered, Hilda nodded and accepted the cup that hovered before her. She felt embarrassed. She was the one asking for help, yet she’d already made her Master uncomfortable.
"My apologies for my poor manners, Master."
"It’s fine. Just tell me while we go to the front."
Gara led the way, Hilda trailing behind.
Though she looked no older than her late twenties, she was ten times Gara’s age.
And yet, following behind him now, she seemed more like a child bracing for her mother’s scolding than a seasoned woman.
They said nothing until they sat at one of the dining tables in the inn.
"So," Gara asked again, sipping the water he’d poured for himself, "what exactly happened?"
Seeing him not in a foul mood seemed to steady Hilda.
Her usual formal, sharp, and composed air returned bit by bit. Her back straightened, her chin lifted, though guilt still lingered faintly in her eyes.
"I brought my kin here, Master. I rented a room in this town and hid him underground. Officially, he’s recorded as dead in Dragon territory." Hilda confessed, wasting no time and delivering the kind of concise, effective report like she always did.
"Oh?" Gara raised a brow. Her sentences carried several important implications. Still, for now he would stick to what directly concerned him.
"So then... did you use Alrova Merchant House’s money? Or its name?"
"No. Of course not, Master. I wouldn’t dare. I used the salary you’ve given me," she answered quickly, shaking her head hard.
Gara tilted his head, puzzled. "You used your own money. Then where’s the problem?"
"I’m your slave, Master. I should have told you before making such a decision. Especially since this involves someone from my life before becoming a slave."
Something clicked in Gara’s mind. He finally realized just how binding the slave status truly was. No matter how much freedom he tried to give Hilda, she would always see herself only as his slave.
"If you’re worried just because you’re my slave, then here’s my view: I don’t mind if you have your own personal life." Gara’s gaze was calm, accepting.
"And I trust you. Hiding your kin must’ve been a carefully thought-out decision. There’s almost no chance Alrova Merchant House will be dragged into trouble because of it."
Hilda’s eyes shone with admiration. She was used to following orders from Gara, and she had always thought it natural for a master to give a slave freedom in managing his business.
But this time, she truly realized how much trust her master had placed in her.
Her eyes misted, but she quickly steadied herself. There was still something serious she needed to say.
Gara brought it up first. "Earlier you said you needed my help. Does it have to do with your kin?"
Hilda swallowed hard. Her aura dimmed, and nerves began to creep in.
"At first, I thought I could hide Ares in this city forever. At least until the current Dragon Lord died and was replaced.
But I’ve received word that for the coming Awakening Ceremony, representatives of the dragon race stationed in Raksa County will be visiting. They’ll be meeting with an important figure from the capital who’s coming here..."
Her words stirred a memory in Gara. That afternoon in the town square, he’d seen the statue of Falopo Town’s founder being scrubbed clean, so hard that they even used brushes.
Tassels hung up from pole to pole. And the most striking sight: Liners walking the streets in robes colored to match their elements. Normally, only black robes were worn; colored ones appeared only during special events.
He had assumed they were Mayor Hall staff preparing for the Awakening Ceremony.
An important figure from the capital? Could that be Langga? Gara wondered.
But he dismissed the thought quickly. By the time the ceremony happened, he would no longer be in Falopo Town or even Raksa County.
He returned his attention to Hilda, listening as she explained the factions within Palapa Peak Province, the dragon territory.
Because the current Dragon Lord was deemed incompetent, factions had naturally formed.
But at the core, there were only two: those who supported the Dragon Lord, and those who secretly opposed him.
Hilda belonged to the opposing faction, even though outwardly she served under the prince.
To be honest, she wasn’t deeply involved in their movements. Her membership was almost automatic, inherited through her grandfather’s close ties with the Lord’s cousin, who happened to be the faction’s leader.
The faction’s main purpose wasn’t to overthrow the Lord’s rule, but to aid people unjustly punished by him.
Hilda herself was one such example.
And now, the Lord’s cousin’s own child had become the latest victim.
It was strange. The Dragon Lord was notorious for indulging his blood relatives. But when forced to choose between his own child and a nephew, the choice was obvious.
Especially when the prince—a spoiled, temperamental young man—threw one of his tantrums.
...