The Runaway Maid is Loved by the Archmage - Chapter 151

※ This book contains depictions of coercive/dubcon/noncon acts, violence, and immorality. Reader discretion is advised.

The misery clinging to this street remains unchanged.

Erika followed behind the blind old man walking ahead, lost in thought.

The current Veronica no longer considered Erika a friend. Likewise, the current Erika no longer considered Veronica a friend. Though the two had changed completely, this street remained sickeningly the same as in the past.

The stark contrast between the upper class above and this bottomless abyss below is so drastic. Only those who have nothing left to lose remain here. A mire beyond human effort smothered this place entirely.

Even when the Imperial Crown Prince declared that slaves were human too and granted them freedom, those who had ever passed through this street merely scoffed. Nothing would change from a single act of performance. It was sure to be hypocrisy.

As if to prove that very thought, the Empire sent the people of the colonial land Castrelo to forced labor camps. They promoted it as a rightful employment by contract, but it was a mere cover—willful deception.

The blind man trudged on steadily. Had it not been for the reed mat he used to slowly sweep ahead of him, one might have doubted whether he was truly blind.

Eventually, he stopped at a certain spot. It was an ordinary building without any remarkable features. It seemed like it had once been a pub, but the signboard was gone, and it was so worn down that one couldn’t be certain.

“It’s here.”

The blind beggar knocked on the door in a peculiar rhythm, then turned around without hesitation and left. He didn’t seem to care for Erika’s response, nor for any answer from beyond the door.

Erika swallowed hard and stared at the door before her. No sounds could be heard from within, but suddenly, with a click and a creaking noise, the door opened.

Erika hesitated. Was it truly alright to step inside this house? Beyond the door was darkness, and she couldn’t tell what might be inside. As she hesitated in silence for a few seconds, a faint light flickered on from within with a hiss. Just as she had expected, a dirty and worn wooden floor came into view.

“I forgot you might be afraid of the dark. Please, come in.”

It was a young man’s clear voice. Erika looked around, then cautiously stepped in with a handkerchief covering her nose. A faintly sweet scent lingered in the air. She didn’t know her host well, so caution couldn’t hurt.

As she stepped inside, the decaying and rotting floorboards let out loud creaks and groans. It seemed likely that this had indeed been a closed-down pub—there were quite a few round tables and chairs. All were old and filthy, some thrown about the floor or broken. It looked like the aftermath of a brawl between heavily drunk patrons.

In addition, there were signs of food having been left unattended in various spots. It seemed enough time had passed for the smell of decay and rot to have faded.

A young man with long, braided white hair and small round glasses smiled as he looked at her. The clothes he wore were of Eastern style. He let out a small laugh as he watched Erika enter cautiously, still on guard.

“You’re like a cat. I don’t particularly like cats, but you’re not so bad.”

“Wasn’t it you who made me act like a cat?”

Erika looked at him for a moment, slightly dumbfounded. Seeing no hostile intent in him or any sign of a trap inside the house, she adjusted her posture and approached him.

“Are you the one meant to receive this letter?”

“Yes. You can give it to me.”

He naturally extended his hand. He was a man with an oddly cold and pale impression. Erika stepped half a step away from him. He looked at her curiously.

“What I mean is, the true master who is to read this letter. That’s not you, is it?”

Erika spoke with confidence, but she could feel a faint trembling deep in her chest. The only reason she was acting so boldly was because of Veronica.

Veronica had changed somehow. It was different from when she had deliberately kept her distance after growing up, and also different from the time she seemed to have forgotten their memories together. It felt as if her very essence had changed.

If this letter’s master is who I think, they might know what’s going on. That’s what Erika thought.

“……My master is busy. Please give it to me.”

Not a very good servant. The man thought so. For something he’d obtained hastily, his master had grown fond of this place, but now it looked like they would have to move again.

Seeing the man’s reaction, Erika felt a sense of urgency. This won’t work. This person was someone whose heart would only be moved if something of equal weight was placed on the other side of the scale.

“Don’t you want to monopolize it?”

[Don’t even think about monopolizing it. I’ll be coming back for it.]

Suddenly recalling the content of the letter, Erika improvised. Her master and this man’s master were in a transactional relationship. Veronica had entrusted something to him, and she was worried that he might try to keep it forever. In that case, this was the only thing Erika had to offer.