YWPWYLFDM 72

Chapter 72

“Oh-ho, so this is the Kingdom of Inselkopf. Even though it’s also a maritime nation, the atmosphere is so different from our Tamora! Fascinating!”

After stepping off the ship, Candice shaded her eyes with one hand while carrying a bag in the other, curiously looking around.

Unlike the Tamora Republic—where the first things one noticed upon arrival were the marvels of magitech that instantly proclaimed it a “nation of mages”—this place looked like the very picture of a traditional port.

Fish hung everywhere to dry. Merchants haggled at the top of their lungs over prices.

The scene was bustling, chaotic, lively, yet somehow laid-back at the same time.

“Are you really going to be fine on your own? Wouldn’t it be better if I helped you?”

Natalia, her arms full of her sister’s luggage, asked as she stepped off the ship behind her.

Candice had insisted again and again that once they reached Inselkopf she could handle everything by herself, but Natalia couldn’t shake her worry.

“I’ll be fine. Hurry home already. You’ve already been delayed because of me—imagine how long your daughter and parents must’ve been waiting! Besides, I’m not someone who can be easily overpowered. What exactly are you worried about?”

Who was really supposed to be worrying about whom? Candice shrugged as though it was ridiculous.

It was only because Ophelia was so exceptional that Candice had always lived in her shadow as “second best,” but Candice herself had been called a genius mage. And now, with Ophelia having lost her mana, there was no one left who could compare to her.

“…Do you think I’m worried about something like that, human? I’m worried about whether you’ll eat properly, or lose things because of how scatterbrained you are.”

Natalia shook her head.

Her sister was brilliant in magic, but hopelessly sloppy in just about everything else.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll take care of myself.”

But it was that very “I’ll take care of myself” that Natalia could never bring herself to trust. She sighed and asked:

“By the way, that tracker thing—what’s its range?”

She had heard it was limited, but not exactly how limited.

At her question, Candice cast a sidelong glance, looking sheepish.

“Uh… well… about a one-kilometer radius.”

“What? That narrow?”

Even if the Kingdom of Inselkopf was small compared to the Pelles Empire, it was still a kingdom. How was she supposed to find Ayla with such a small detection range?

Finding a needle in a haystack would have been easier.

“…Can’t be helped. It’ll be tough, but this is the best I can do for now.”

Candice sighed, looking disheartened.

Ophelia had layered so many security spells that it had taken months just to pierce one layer and make tracking even barely possible.

Natalia shook her head, already feeling exhausted just imagining the search.

“So where are you going to start looking?”

“Mm… probably the underworld first. I need to check whether there are any hideouts where smugglers or illegal immigrants could be staying.”

Natalia nodded. It was a sound approach. If she herself had been given the same mission, she would have started there too.

“All right, be careful then.”

Not that the warning really meant much. Even if Candice went poking around the most dangerous places, she wasn’t the one who would be in danger.

It would be the underworld dwellers who were at risk.

“And you? Heading back right away?”

“The sailors need a few days’ rest… and since I’m here, I should see if there are any good goods for trade. I am a merchant, after all.”

“Fair enough. Then travel safely. I’ll be in touch.”

After bidding her younger sister goodbye, Candice found an inn near the harbor.

She decided to rest and recover from the journey today and start her search early the next morning.

The following afternoon.

“Is this the place?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Despite various… incidents along the way—including some weapons that ended up reduced to ash—Candice had swiftly taken control of the top information guild in Inselkopf. Now she stood before a shabby tavern in a back alley.

“They say all the men who stowed away from the Pelles Empire are holed up in this tavern. Can’t say if the ones you’re looking for are among them, though.”

The man who had mocked her to no end when she stormed into the guild that morning was now calling her “ma’am, ma’am” with a fawning grin, rubbing his hands together.

The honorific “ma’am” sounded strange coming from a grimy thug, but Candice didn’t care. As long as it helped her find Ayla.

She pulled the tracker from her coat pocket just in case—but it remained silent.

‘Of course.’

It would’ve been absurd to find her quarry so easily.

Besides, Byron’s image didn’t quite fit this kind of filthy den.

She didn’t know him well, but fifteen years ago, when Ophelia had been dispatched to Weisshafen for academy business, Candice had gone with her and met Byron.

The notorious First Prince—banished, though not officially exiled, to his friend Roderick’s domain after causing trouble in the capital.

Candice remembered that arrogant figure clearly. Even on the run, Byron had struck her as the type to cling to his pride and squander wealth on a luxurious lifestyle.

‘…Still, I should check inside.’

She couldn’t just leave because the tracker hadn’t reacted. This was supposedly a den of fugitives from the Pelles Empire. Someone might know Byron’s whereabouts.

“Let’s go in.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

That “ma’am” again. Candice shook her head and stepped inside the tavern.

It was as shabby inside as it looked outside—dimly lit, filled with dust, stale smoke, and the heavy stench of sweat.

Candice wrinkled her nose and took a seat at a corner table. The informant sat across from her and discreetly gestured toward a man.

“That one. Whether it’s smuggling or stowing away, nothing happens here without going through him.”

The man sat at the center of the tavern, drinking and bellowing like he owned the place.

Sleeveless white shirt, a thick gold chain, bulging tattooed arms with a massive skull inked across one—he looked like a caricature of a thug.

“Wow, amazing! I’ve never seen someone look so much like a thug before!”

She slapped her informant’s arm and shouted loud enough for the whole tavern to hear.

“Uh, yes, quite. But ma’am, perhaps you should keep your voice down…”

The informant was sweating bullets. The atmosphere was already turning hostile.

“What’s there to be afraid of? We’re paying customers too, aren’t we?”

Candice jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, sharp enough to feel like a blade.

The man had already seen her magic in action, yet this made him wonder why magic was even necessary. That elbow alone was a lethal weapon.

“…Hey, lady. You think this place is yours? Quit hollering, will ya?”

A group of thugs who had taken offense at her loud voice sauntered over.

She didn’t care for their dismissive tone, nor for being called “lady.” And hearing a complaint about noise from the very men who’d been shouting like they owned the tavern was even more irritating.

So some people were allowed to be noisy, and others weren’t?

Candice smirked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I don’t have time to waste on you. Why don’t you just go back to drinking?”

“This lady—does she even know where she is?!”

Her dismissive wave, as if shooing away flies, made the thugs bristle with rage. They cracked their knuckles menacingly and advanced.

But only for a moment. Suddenly, they froze in place, unable to move.

It wasn’t by choice—Candice had flicked her fingers and bound them with magic.

By manipulating the air around their bodies, she had immobilized them. It was a spell that could be broken with brute strength, but unfortunately, the neighborhood thugs didn’t have nearly enough of that.

“W-what the hell—”

“What did you do to me, witch?! Let us go right now!”

Though she hadn’t harmed them at all, panic drove them into a frenzy.

‘I should’ve gagged them too.’

Candice dug a finger in her ear against the noise and strode toward her target—the thug said to control all smuggling and stowaway traffic between here and the Empire.

“I’ve got some questions for you.”

She smiled wolfishly, baring her teeth.

The thug, holding a beer mug the size of her head, gave her a look of incredulous disdain.

“Quit messing around and scram. I’m busy drinking.”

He ignored the strange woman and tipped the mug to his lips—

But the cold beer never reached his throat.

Startled, he looked down. The beer had frozen solid mid-pour, locked in place. He tried banging the mug upside down, but the beer remained a solid block of ice.

“Now… shall we have a little chat?”

Candice blew across her frosty fingertip and grinned.