I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Chapter 124

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Interlude, Dieta (1)

The Snake that Swallows Gold, Dieta, had left her ducal family accompanied by a single escort knight and, in just five years, become Cambria’s most prominent magnate.

Her accomplishments were remarkable, yet neither she nor her trading company garnered much attention outside Cambria.

Within Cambria, her influence was undeniable, but it failed to extend beyond its borders.

That was until a year prior.

In the past year, the Dieta Trading Company experienced explosive growth. They established distribution networks outside Cambria and set up a foothold in the heart of the Empire. Moreover, they drew public attention by showcasing a connection with the renowned Najin.

Attention focused on her—countless gazes and interests.

A single misstep in such a situation could bring everything crashing down.

Though it would have been wise to tread carefully, the Snake that Swallows Gold was a merchant to her very core. High risks promised high rewards—a basic principle of commerce.

She had no intention of letting the opportunity slip by.

As the entire world focused on her trading company, Dieta confidently stepped onto the stage.

“Buy it all.”

Dieta had already secured the first bid rights for the remains of the slain White and Red Dragons.

The gold she had stockpiled while enduring losses was unleashed in one fell swoop; a wave of gold swept through the auction house.

She poured all the debts she was owed by the Central Guild, as well as the weaknesses and IOUs she’d held over countless trading companies, into the bids. In the end, Dieta succeeded in acquiring nearly 90% of the dragon materials.

It was enough to be called a monopoly. The cost was immense, but Dieta believed dragon materials were worth every coin.

What were dragon materials? They were commodities used in alchemy, magitech, armor and weapon forging, and even research—essentially useful for almost everything. While their value had been long proven, they simply hadn’t been available for sale until then.

Such materials were on the market for the first time in decades, and not just any materials, but those of the Red Dragon and White Dragon, linked to King Arthur’s legends. Their value was not only practical but also renowned.

‘That’s not all.’ Dieta rolled a platinum coin across her palm.

That particular batch of dragon materials was special. The Red Dragon Najin had slain was a unique specimen influenced by the Witch of Camlann, bearing scales that even withstood the Sword Aura of a Sword Seeker.

Dragon materials were already expensive, but with such uniqueness added, Dieta could dictate the price as she pleased.

Many trading companies, workshops, and mage towers expressed interest in purchasing the materials, but Dieta refused. A merchant doesn’t only trade in tangible goods. Often, the intangible held far greater value, and Dieta understood that better than anyone.

If selling goods at the highest price was a merchant’s virtue, then Dieta was an exceptional merchant.

“The Red Tower promised to provide us with goods from their mage tower at reduced prices. They also agreed to prioritize us above all others when supplying their products.”

Dieta smiled at the merchants who had sought her out.

“The Dofker Forge promised to supply processed goods crafted from the materials exclusively to our trading company and even agreed to form a partnership with us. It’s not just the Dofker Forge. Roens Workshop, the Wendelin Alchemy Tower, and the Wolhite Forge all made similar offers.”

“What terms have you brought to the table?”

‘Bring terms. Otherwise, there will be no deal.’

She set her competitors against each other in their scramble for the rare dragon materials, encouraging them to offer better terms. As competition among merchants intensified, Dieta remained silent.

She sold nothing—her ideal customer had yet to appear.

It was merely bait to lure a bigger fish into the game. Dieta’s sharp eyes scanned the depths of the waters.

‘Surely you covet these goods as well, but you wouldn’t want to stoop so low as to participate in this. You’d think it beneath you.’

‘A trading company associated with you, merchants you have ties with—those are the channels through which you’d want to acquire these goods, but what can you do?’

‘I’m not planning to sell them.’

‘If you want them, come to me yourself.’

‘Only then will I respond to a deal. I’ve gone to the lengths of expanding the scale of this stage just for someone of your stature. Isn’t this sufficient?’

Clink—

“Master Trader…” At last, the big fish surfaced. “A guest from the Platinum Tower has arrived.”

The bait was taken. Dieta flicked the platinum coin in her palm, smiling as she watched it spin in mid-air.

The Platinum Tower—the largest mage tower in the Empire. Dieta’s true target, the master of the Platinum Tower, Cipria Gachevskaya, an 8th-circle Archmage, was at its pinnacle. Responsible for nearly 40% of all artifacts distributed within the Empire, she was one of the Five Pillars of the Empire.

Eternal Radiance, Cipria Gachevskaya was Dieta’s prey—the Snake that Swallows Gold had her eyes set on the Platinum Tower.

Establishing connections with them and creating a trade channel was the entire purpose of her grand scheme. To successfully establish herself in the Imperial capital, she needed a reliable partner.

The fish had bitten the bait. All that remained was to reel it in and cook it to perfection.

That was Dieta’s specialty.

Crack—

Dieta caught the platinum coin she’d flicked. Once in her grasp, there was no chance she’d let it slip away.

Najin stretched his stiff body. His joints creaked with every movement—a clear sign that his prolonged time in bed had left him stiff and rigid.

“I was lying down for quite a while. How long has it been?”

-About a month?

Just a month? It had felt like at least eight months. As he cracked his shoulders, Najin tried to recall the past month.

For a full month since the Red Dragon’s subjugation, he had been bedridden. Despite possessing Excalibur’s regenerative abilities, his injuries had been severe enough to incapacitate him.

The healers had marveled at the severity of his wounds, claiming an ordinary person would have died ten times over. Unfortunately for them, Najin was far from ordinary.

As a Sword Seeker, the wielder of two constellations, and the possessor of Excalibur, Najin’s recovery abilities were beyond human.

Though the healers insisted he would need at least six months of rest, Najin managed to leave his bed in just one. It was enough to make the healers clutch their heads in disbelief, but to Najin, even that single month felt unbearably long.

-That’s because you’ve never taken a break for more than a week.

Merlin sighed audibly.

-Ever since you left the Underground City, have you ever truly rested? You swing your sword at every opportunity as if you’d die if you skipped training for even a day.

“Thanks to that, I became a Sword Seeker in less than a year, didn’t I?”

-Oh, how fortunate we are, indeed.

While Merlin shook her head as though exasperated, Najin was busy changing into his outdoor attire.

He strapped the sword hanging on the wall to his waist, prompting Merlin to heave another sigh.

-Training again? Can’t you take it easy? Your wounds haven’t even fully healed. What’s the rush?

“I’m not going to train.”

-What?

Najin pointed toward the shelf. It was filled with baskets of fruit and other snacks, all of which had been left behind by Dieta.

「Today, well… there are various matters in the Empire.」

「Najin, why don’t you try this? It’s nothing much, but I saw it on the way here and thought of you. Sometimes, these little things are nice, aren’t they?」

「I brought some books in case you were bored. This one’s about ‘The 100 Heroes Who Lit the Empire’s Flame’—sounds like your kind of thing, doesn’t it?」

During the month Najin was bedridden, Dieta had visited him almost daily. He was grateful for her kindness.

“She visited nearly every day, didn’t she? I figured it wouldn’t hurt for me to visit her for once. She’s busy enough as it is. Surely, visiting me wasn’t easy.”

-…Hmm, I’m not so sure about that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Merlin’s expression grew peculiar. Unlike Najin, who seemed almost devastatingly oblivious in such matters, Merlin was far from ignorant when it came to a young girl’s feelings.

In fact, it would’ve been strange for anyone to not notice.

‘That girl looks at you as though her eyes are dripping honey; she flinches at even the slightest touch, her shoulders trembling as though electrified; she blushes furiously over the smallest things. How could someone not pick up on that?’

Yet Merlin swallowed her words. She didn’t feel like explaining it. There was a strange, irrational irritation—a sense of possessiveness, as if someone were meddling with something precious to her.

With a sullen look, Merlin glared at Najin.

“Why are you glaring at me?” Of course, Najin only blinked innocently in response.

-At times like this, you’re just a clueless kid.

“What?”

‘What a ridiculous situation.’ Merlin let out another sigh. As much as Najin had matured, she sometimes forgot that he was just an eighteen-year-old. One who had spent the majority of his life in the Underground City, with little experience in normal human relationships.

It was no wonder that Najin failed to grasp romantic emotions.

-Forget it. She’d probably like it if you visited her.

Merlin shrugged her shoulders. Although she personally thought dating and romance were a waste of time, she had no intention of interfering.

Not that it mattered, anyway. Was that kid even capable of falling for someone?

Najin’s head was filled with nothing but swords, stars, and constellations. The idea of him engaging in a romance was so absurd that Merlin couldn’t even picture it. Her thoughts drifted to the girl with the honey-dripping gaze.

She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girls. Najin wouldn’t ever reciprocate her feelings.

Smirk—

Merlin found herself smiling. Somehow, the thought comforted her.

Najin tilted his head, puzzled by Merlin’s sudden shift from sulking to grinning.

The headquarters of the Dieta Trading Company…

Najin walked past a line of merchants and clients waiting for their turn, heading directly into the building. Instead of stopping him, the guards merely bowed their heads in recognition.

From the entrance to the uppermost floor of the building, no one attempted to bar Najin’s way. Ordinarily, meeting Dieta would require navigating a maze of procedures, but none of that applied to Najin.

“Come by anytime.” Her words weren’t merely a polite gesture but a literal invitation. Whenever, wherever, however—she had made it clear that Najin was welcome. Not only that, but she had issued explicit orders to her staff: whenever Najin arrived, he was to be sent directly to her.

Thanks to that, Najin reached the top floor without issue.

The office door was closed, guarded by two individuals. One was Pasion, Dieta’s familiar escort knight; the other was cloaked in a robe, their face hidden.

Najin narrowed his eyes.

The robed figure gave him an amused chuckle and pulled back their hood. “Fancy meeting you again.”

“…Sir Klaus?”

Klaus Aten, the former Commander of the Blue Wing Cavalry. Once coerced by the Church to attack Najin, he stood as an ally. It was a familiar face, but why was he here?

Catching Najin’s questioning gaze, Klaus pointed toward the office door and gave a wry smile. “She hired me. The lady was generous enough to offer me a position.”

“Dieta did?”

“That’s right. Officially, we’re dead men. We lack proper identities or a place to settle, but she took care of everything. Thanks to her, we’re living comfortably now.”

Najin was momentarily taken aback.

Dieta had once told him to leave their fates in her hands and focus on his own tasks. True to her word, she had handled everything.

It couldn’t have been easy arranging identities and accommodations for so many people, all in secret, but Najin could picture her flicking a coin and nonchalantly saying, “Everything is possible with money.”

He chuckled and nodded. “That’s good to hear.”

“It’s all thanks to you. Ah, by the way, my name now is ‘Romanoff.’ As a mercenary of the Dieta Trading Company, I’ll go by that until the day I can raise the Blue Wing Cavalry banner again.”

“Shall I call you Sir Romanoff, then?”

“The title ‘Sir’ is too much for a mercenary. Just Romanoff will do.”

“As you wish.”

Najin and Klaus—Romanoff—exchanged smiles before Najin voiced another question. “Are the others working under Dieta’s company as well?”

“More or less, yes.”

Najin did a quick mental tally. Klaus Aten of the Blue Wing Cavalry; Jerold Orton, the demon hunter; Basaus Malek, the frontline soldier.

Three Sword Seeker-level individuals, alongside multiple Sword Experts, had pledged their cooperation. If they were all employed as mercenaries by Dieta’s trading company…

“Ridiculous.” Najin couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. A trading company with Sword Seeker-level personnel?

Counting himself, they had a total of four Sword Seekers tied to their operations. That was far beyond the scope of any ordinary trading company.

Najin glanced toward Pasion, Dieta’s ever-reliable escort knight. His expression mirrored Najin’s disbelief.

“To think I’d end up with three Sword Seeker-level individuals as subordinates. Imagine how I feel,” Pasion remarked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Anyway, what brings you here? Did you come to see the lady?”

“Yes. I thought it was about time I visited her for once.”

“She’ll be pleased to see you,” Pasion said with a grin. He glanced toward the office door, then added, “Normally, this is her nap time, so no visitors would be allowed…”

With that, Pasion stepped aside and opened the door. “Najin, you’re an exception.”

“Should I come back later?” Najin asked, hesitating.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I told her you came by but left, I can’t imagine the scolding I’d receive. Please, go in.”

Taking Pasion’s words to heart, Najin entered the office. The door closed silently behind him, courtesy of Pasion’s thoughtfulness.

The office was spacious and elegant, with its large windows allowing sunlight to flood in. At the center of the room, by the window, was a sofa, and upon it lay Dieta, fast asleep. Her head rested against the armrest, her brown hair gleaming under the sunlight.

Najin approached quietly, but Dieta showed no signs of waking. Only the soft sound of her breathing filled the room.

Najin stood there for a moment, watching her peaceful face; then, deciding against waking her, he took a seat on a chair opposite her and waited.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Suddenly, a loud ringing shattered the quiet as an alarm clock beside the sofa blared. With a start, Dieta’s hand shot out and slammed the clock, silencing it with a loud bang.

“Ugh…” Muttering in frustration, she buried her face into the sofa cushions. After a moment of reluctant groaning, she sat up, stretching lazily.

“Haaahmmm…?” Her groggy eyes blinked as they met Najin’s steady gaze. Frozen mid-yawn, Dieta blinked again, more rapidly. Her long lashes fluttered as though trying to process the situation.

When realization struck, she gasped. “Najin?! W-wait! Could you, uh, look at the wall for a moment?”

Najin complied, turning his gaze to the nearest wall. Dieta, meanwhile, bolted across the room to a full-length mirror. In a flurry, she adjusted her rumpled outfit, smoothed her hair, and dabbed at her face to fix her makeup.

Satisfied at last, she returned to the sofa and sat primly, her hands clasped on her lap.

“You can look now,” she said, trying (and failing) to sound calm.

Cursing Pasion inwardly for not waking her, Dieta put on a composed expression. A merchant, after all, must never show panic in any situation. As befitting a renowned merchant who commanded the attention of the entire continent, Dieta’s acting was flawless.

…Flawless, indeed.

If there was a problem, it was that her perfect performance was utterly ruined by her bright red ears and the fidgeting of her fingers.