Until now, the fact that Iris held deep connections with the merchant guilds was a secret known only to insiders.
‘I need to find what I can do.’
Despite her passion for swordsmanship, it never served as the foundation of her life.
From childhood, Iris had grown sharp instincts, quietly observing the currents among people as she crouched in the shadows.
She quickly sensed where attention would fall and earned praise with her calm and eloquent speech.
‘I must meet with the guild leaders.’
In a way, it was only natural that Iris—who needed to grow her family’s fortune to leave her clan—sought out the guildmasters.
Of course, she had no desire to ally with the massive noble-led guilds.
“Oh, you mean the second son of Valentine? He’s practically invisible…”
“I heard he rarely even appears in the social circles. What could someone like that do?”
They dismissed Iris, and she refused to associate with such people.
So she sought out those unfamiliar with Valentine and the nobility.
“Va-va-Valentine?”
“Not Baba-ba-Valentine, but Valentine.”
Thus, Iris turned to the commoner-run guilds.
For nobles, guilds were a luxury hobby; for commoners, they were a matter of survival.
Their priorities were profit and gain, not prestige or public gaze.
Naturally, they welcomed Iris’s presence.
But—
“My Lady Duchess... I deeply respect you, but this time it is difficult.”
The guildmaster removed his hat as he spoke.
With a remorseful bow, he said again how sorry he was.
“The contract with Valentine is still valid... but our guild’s supply deals with the Imperial Court make up an overwhelmingly large portion of our revenue.”
Trading with Leontheim was out of the question, even if it were Valentine.
He meant this plainly.
‘Of course.’
Ludwig, the current Emperor, was a man who crushed everything related to Sedric.
Even that fraud trying to ruin Leontheim was but a pawn planted by the final villain, the Emperor himself.
‘Supplying goods to Leontheim would strike a hard blow.’
Such news would inevitably reach Ludwig’s ears, and the guild’s lifeline would be jeopardized as a consequence.
Iris was well aware of this.
“Understood.”
“I truly apologize. But if you have any other business, please contact us anytime. We will always be ready.”
Having gained much through Iris, he carefully chose words to avoid offending her.
After the footsteps faded, Iris pulled out a sheet of paper.
Over the names of guilds, many marked with X’s, she placed one more.
Thus, a grand slam was complete.
‘This is the last.’
Iris had reached out to every guild she had ties to.
Half refused upon hearing ‘Leontheim,’ and of the remainder, half offered no response.
Only a fraction of the fraction of guilds had come to meet her—but even they wanted to contract with her as ‘Valentine.’
‘What should I do?’
Just as she was about to leave the last guild, a temptation bloomed deep within her.
Using her memories from before the regression would make this much easier.
‘I have knowledge of the guilds from before the regression.’
If she could erase all upcoming trials and speak well enough to become the top guild in the market, they would help her.
The family name could be set aside for now.
‘But that’s not for Leontheim’s sake.’
They would look down on the people of Leontheim—or else fear and shun them.
Iris had no desire to work with a merchant sect that clung to such narrow perceptions.
She wanted to form a partnership with those who saw her not as
Iris Valentine
, but as
Iris Leonteim
.
Iris was a master of calculation.
She knew exactly how valuable her knowledge was, and that only made her all the more cautious.
“Will no one else come?”
The last group she’d expected had the highest chance of showing up.
But—no helping it.
Iris calmly began clearing the table.
“Well, maybe this is a good opportunity to open a new path.”
After all, it wasn’t like she had dozens of sects trading with her from the beginning.
Everything had a starting point—and maybe
this
would become one of those.
“If possible, I’d like to choose a sect already familiar with the northern regions…”
Just as she was about to step out, an urgent knock sounded at the door.
A maid entered respectfully.
“My lady. Zeldaia of the
Aurora Merchant Sect
has arrived.”
Iris’s eyes widened at the unexpected name.
Zeldaia of Aurora.
Moments later, a woman entered the room, wrapped in what looked like an avalanche of heavy robes.
“Whew! Leonteim is
really
cold. I thought I was going to turn into a block of ice out there.”
Peeling back the layers of fur and wool, the woman revealed a teasing smile beneath a cascade of striking orange hair.
Her warm-toned skin, typical of the southern provinces, stood out in the icy north.
“Zeldaia. It’s been a while. But what brings you here in person?”
“Oh come on! It was
you
, Lady Valentine—or should I say, Marchioness—who sent the transmission first!”
True, Iris
had
sent a message. But there’d been no reply.
Honestly, I’d expected silence. A response at all is the real surprise.
Zeldaia,
Aurora’s Chief Executor
, had been the only one to ever directly challenge Iris’s expertise.
“We only move based on crystal-clear profit and loss.”
Unlike other sects that engaged in constant political maneuvering, Aurora played no such games.
If there was even a
slight
risk of loss, they simply wouldn’t take the deal.
That, in fact, was how they managed to maintain an upward trajectory in the cutthroat world of commerce cultivation.
So why… now?
From a purely transactional perspective,
Iris of Leonteim
was a losing investment.
As
Valentine
, she had been a far more advantageous partner.
After flinging her suffocating winter gear to the side, Zeldaia settled comfortably into a chair—relaxed, yet never disrespectful.
A freedom that landed somewhere between deference and confidence.
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t expect me. Our last meeting wasn’t exactly… friendly.”
Iris shook her head lightly.
“I didn’t see it that way. We simply had differing perspectives.”
“…I appreciate that. Most nobles accuse me of being too blunt.”
Zeldaia laced her fingers together and let the smile drop from her face.
“I accepted your previous deals because they were profitable. So—what is it you want from us now?”
Iris replied coolly, “That depends. Why don’t you show your cards first?”
And then, as if it were an afterthought—
“But I’ll tell you this: what you’re looking for doesn’t exist in Leonteim.”
There were no rare spirit herbs or high-tier beast cores here.
What few unique resources the region once had were already stifled under Ludwig’s interference.
All that remained in Leonteim were starving villagers, demonic beasts… and breathtaking, yet utterly useless,
Crystal Mountains
.
If it were any other sect, maybe.
But for
Aurora
, who valued product potential above all else, there was nothing here worth cultivating.
At that, Zeldaia leaned her head back and let out a long, deep sigh.
“What I desire is this, Duchess—you.”
“Me... you mean?”
“My words were poorly chosen.”
Rising from her seat, she moved before Iris and knelt.
“I need your knowledge and insight.”
Her golden eyes gleamed with pain and wounds as she spoke.
“Explain in detail.”
“You are the only option left for me. I beg you.”
“Sit first. Whatever it is, I will hear you out.”
Gently soothing the woman on the verge of tears, Iris summoned a maid.
As if she had been waiting, the girl entered and placed a handkerchief, tea, and cold water before Zelda, helping her to sit.
Iris waited patiently for her emotions to settle.
“
Sob
I’m sorry for this disgrace.”
“Feeling calmer now? Then explain again, carefully.”
Zelda was from a minority tribe.
Such people rarely demeaned themselves, knowing that if they lowered themselves, the already oppressed would be further scorned.
While others belittled her, Zelda remained dignified and proud.
What could have happened?
“As you know, we Auro are a southern minority. Do you know why we came all the way to the capital to open a guild?”
“No. I have not heard.”
Zelda clenched her fist on the desk until the knuckles turned white.
“Because Agen, the king of southern Makadia, stole our tribe’s treasure—the Clavi.”
Slowly lowering her gaze, Zelda began her tale.
“What they wanted was only money. They forced us into debt and drove our people from our homeland to the capital.”
Iris nodded in understanding.
“Agen and I made a blood oath: if I resolved their debt, he would return the Clavi.”
An engraved contract crafted by arcane scholars.
Those who broke it or physically destroyed the contract were consumed by backlash magic, burning on the spot—a binding blood oath.
“I finally settled the debt they demanded. So I sent a delegation to inform them.”
Memories surfaced.
‘It was indeed the next year.’
Auro declared war on the southern Makadia kingdom.
King Agen’s oppression was severe, and many southern minorities joined the great battle.
‘At that time...’
Though long and arduous, Auro emerged victorious, turning the south into a dominion where minorities could reside.
Such hidden stories—there was no way the Iris of that time could have known.
Before her, Zelda tore at her hair in despair.
“The delegation hasn’t contacted us. No one answers, no one returns.”
Zelda deeply cherished her guild members.
Iris understood why her suffering ran so deep.
“At first, I thought that cursed Agen had killed our delegation. So I planned to attack Makadia. But—”
Zelda lifted her head.
In her tear-moistened eyes was a steadfast trust in Iris.
“I remembered what you said.”
“My words?”
“That human instincts are simple.”
It was Iris’s counsel to Zelda, who had once dismissed simple minds.
Her words had been correct—wise, even. But she’d also warned that
petty emotions
would drive others to envy and resent her.
“So keep your eyes open. Coiled jealousy can’t stay hidden forever.”
Strangely, that line had clung to Zeldaia’s memory for a long time.
It was during a time when she naively believed everyone would choose the righteous path—that was when she began cultivating
discernment
.
“
Agen
hates me,” she said bluntly. “If he truly wanted to wound me, he would’ve sent the delegation’s severed head back to us.”
Iris nodded slowly. “That does seem likely.”
Though it wasn’t common for minority clans to declare war, it
was
common for kingdoms and nobles to suppress them.
For ages, the imperial sects had used oppression as a method of assimilation—breaking outsiders and binding them to their territories.
“But nothing came back. Not even a mocking letter.”
After realizing this, Zeldaia had been thrown into confusion.
She spent days—weeks—calming tribal elders who demanded they retaliate, who insisted they should declare war to punish the disrespect.
Just when that fury threatened to cloud her spiritual core entirely…
a message came from Iris.
Yes. If it’s her…
If anyone could illuminate the truth buried beneath this situation, it would be her.
Zeldaia had no interest in the politics between Leonteim and the imperial throne.
She
despised
the imperial court. Always had.
“Marchioness, what is
your
judgment? I need the insight of someone who sees farther than the rest.”
Iris’s response was calm and precise.
“This doesn’t align with the logic of profit and loss. This is just… a gesture. Nothing more.”
Zeldaia, however, shot back with unwavering resolve.
“No. If you also believe Agen is behind this, then I’ll abandon the sect and personally
sever their spiritual veins
.”
She leaned forward, eyes burning with clarity.
“A sect that can be discarded has no worth to me. You may take what I leave behind.”
Chapter 30