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The Deputy Guildmaster, Eliza, and Cestlavie, the three individuals closely tied to the Church, all spoke up in unison.

“Who do you think the Saintess is!? The sheer audacity—ordering around a holy figure like she’s some servant! A mere aristocrat of a minor nation like you—know your place!”

As expected, Eliza, being a priestess serving the Saintess, couldn’t let this slide. She was practically fuming.

Well, I have to admit, I was just as shocked. I never expected someone to suggest playing “Come here, Saintess, we have amazake” with a revered figure. But knowing that Saintess… Yeah, she might just show up without a second thought, which makes it hard to dismiss the idea outright.

Perhaps sensing the overwhelming pushback—and realizing she was in hostile territory—Lady Simonetta’s attendants whispered something urgently into her ear, likely advising her not to dig herself any deeper.

This only made her scowl in irritation.

Now that I think about it, calling her Lady Simonetta feels… a bit off, doesn’t it? Technically speaking, as the legitimate wife of my father, the Count of Aulanthia—and as the daughter of his fourth consort—she is basically a stepmother to me. So, in theory, I should be addressing her as Madam Simonetta with the proper respect.

But the woman I vaguely remember from Aulanthia was a middle-aged noblewoman buried under garish makeup, dressed in outfits so ostentatious they were more fitting for a year-end music festival costume contest—or perhaps a kabukimono trying to outshine everyone. The gap between that image and the young woman standing here is so vast, I can hardly believe they’re the same person.

I never spoke much with her back in Aulanthia—aside from the times she outright insulted me—but now that I’m seeing her up close, my impression isn’t that she’s a complete fool. More like… a spoiled child trying too hard to act above her station.

At the very least, when it comes to facial features alone, she pales in comparison to Eliza, who’s standing beside her.

She isn’t ugly, per se, but without makeup, she would likely fall into the plain and forgettable category. Well, her sharp demeanor gives her a strong presence, at least. Her dress and accessories are flashy, but still within the bounds of what’s considered normal. It’s just… not what I expected.

At what point did she stray from proper evolution and undergo some kind of unholy demon fusion? Women are terrifying. Or perhaps… she’s the living embodiment of the phrase “growing old disgracefully.”

—I must be careful.

Before I realized it, my fists were clenched.

Aging is inevitable, but thoughtlessly accumulating years—or worse, tarnishing one’s later days—should be avoided at all costs.

I should avoid extreme dieting and focus first and foremost on keeping my skin firm and supple. Collagen, perhaps? And definitely protection from UV rays…?

While I was lost in thought, the situation continued to move toward a resolution.

After much persuasion from those around her, Lady Simonetta grudgingly conceded.

“I understand that it’s impossible. But is this truly the extent of this city’s Adventurers’ Guild’s flexibility? To dismiss something outright as impossible without even attempting a workaround? And to think—I personally took the trouble to come here, yet instead of being met by the highest authority, I was shoved with a mere Deputy Guildmaster? How disgraceful. I shall be reporting this to the capital, so be sure to remember this well!”
“The Guildmaster is currently away on official business at the cathedral—”
“I have no interest in excuses!”

Cutting off the Deputy Guildmaster mid-explanation as he wiped the sweat from his brow, Lady Simonetta took the Adventurers’ Guild Request Form from her butler and swiftly signed it. Then, as if hurling down a challenge, she slammed it onto the table.

The attendants swiftly gathered up the pile of gold coins and jewels spread across the table with practiced ease.

“This will serve as a deposit,” one of them stated curtly, leaving only a few gold coins behind.

It seemed that Simonetta’s claim of “spare no expense” had been at least half bluff.

With the Deputy Guildmaster still visibly flustered, unable to regain his composure, the task of verifying the documents fell to Marina, the receptionist. She compared the request form with the amount of money left behind and, after a tense moment, nodded with a pained expression.

“…There are no discrepancies in the paperwork.”

As if she had just secured a verbal commitment, Lady Simonetta gave a satisfied nod and promptly stood up, signaling that her business here was concluded.

“Very well! By the beginning of next week, make sure that insolent chef learns his place—or else, prepare a suitable replacement along with an acceptable dish!”

With that parting demand, she turned on her heel, surrounded by her attendants, and made her way toward the exit.

“Oh well, worst case scenario, you could just claim it’s ‘a creative new dish’ and come up with some raw preparation—sashimi, live seafood, or something of the sort,” I suggested offhandedly.

After all, the one who’ll be eating it is none other than the naïve prince of Aulanthia Kingdom… or rather, my dear father.

The Vice Guildmaster let out a drained sigh in response to my half-hearted reassurance.

“I’d rather avoid anything raw if possible…”

Sir Simon muttered, his expression stiff.

Unbothered by our private conversation, Lady Simonetta and her entourage continued toward the exit. Just as they reached the thick wooden doors, hurried footsteps rang out, followed by an urgent, frantic knocking from the other side.

“Who goes there?”

One of the guards inside called out, prompting a panicked voice to respond from beyond the door.

“It’s Indro, the Deputy Chief of Security! Urgent news for Deputy Guildmaster Tarki! We have an emergency—Lady Clara and Lady Barbara are in danger!”
“What!?”
“ “Huh?” ”

“…What is this now?”

Just when he had a moment’s respite from his stress, Deputy Guildmaster Tarki—so that was his name—sprang to his feet in alarm. Meanwhile, Eliza and I exchanged glances before instinctively looking away. Lady Simonetta, who had been on the verge of leaving, furrowed her brows in irritation at the unexpected interruption.

“—What now, Vice Guildmaster Tarki?”
“Let—let him in at once!”
“Understood. …But first, state the password.”

Unlike the flustered Tarki, the guard remained composed, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword as he called out beyond the door.

A brief exchange followed, using what seemed to be a set of coded phrases.

“—Alright, you’re clear.”

With a nod of approval, the guard unlocked the door from inside.

Beyond it stood a tall swordsman, and behind him—no, there were two others. One was a lanky, red-haired youth wearing a shabby jacket and a hunting cap, his arms twisted behind his back by a muscular young man who was practically dragging him forward.

“Apologies for the intrusion. We apprehended this man snooping around the third floor. When we searched him, we found this note on his back.”

With a respectful bow, the young man stepped into the room and held out a plain sheet of paper.

Narrowing my eyes, I could make out a simple message scrawled upon it—

“Today, I shall visit this guild headquarters to take something precious from the esteemed Shrine Maiden. By: The Phantom Thief, Red Ram.”

The moment everyone registered its contents, a collective gasp filled the room.

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