Two people, not one, visited after the arrival of the first assassin.
The behavior pattern was also a bit different before, but it must have been because they must have been asked to deal with a higher-level threat than before. It was probably a real assassination.
The dagger's edge flew to my neck. I got out of bed and trampled the assassin who had fallen unconscious at my feet. Whoa.
Another thin dagger flew toward me at that moment. I reached out and grabbed the first one's blade as I ran toward the second assassin. When the handle dug into the inside of his left eye, a painful breath came from the skilled assassin's mouth.
"Agh..."
I tried to be as quiet as possible, but it got a bit loud since there were two opponents. The second assassin, who stood wobbling, took a deep breath. "What are you going to—"
"Silence..." I hit him on the head and knocked him out.
I expected it, but it bothered me anyway. Did they send two people because they lost contact with the first one?
"Should I call this stupid or efficient?"
From the mouths and sleeves of the two visitors, I pulled out the suicide pills that now felt pleasant to the touch. That makes a total of six "Mercy's Bites"? It turned out to be the same number as the executives of the merchant association. As expected, this mess was piling up. I should report this to the butler-assassin properly.
"...these guys." What did I have to do?
My agony was short-lived and I took quick action. I decided to send these two assassins to the butler-assassin. No matter how much I thought about it, that was the best move I could make. But what about the next assassins? I couldn't keep sending them to the butler-assassin.
Once I opened the window and dropped my two pieces of luggage, I stepped on the ground myself. Outside it was raining. Suddenly I remembered the flower pot I had put on the porch steps. Contrary to what I had initially thought, I was getting a bit worried since in these few days nothing had sprouted from the pot yet. I got a bit excited thinking about seeing little leaves grow due to the rain.
Now then, if we cross two fences...
"What the hell are you doing, Miss Daisy?"
Oops. As soon as I turned around, I made eye contact with the head maid who was standing in front of the back door. She crumpled her cigarette butts and threw them in the tin before looking at my luggage with her round eyes. "Who are they?"
This was too obvious. There was no way out! "They're assassins, spies."
"Did you handle them all by yourself?"
I couldn't bear to answer the question. The maid, who had been touching her chin several times as if confused, sighed. "When are they going to get up?"
"In about... 3 to 4 hours..."
"I see. Follow me."
I obediently followed the maid to the mansion. I was doomed. What will become of me now? Will I be fired? I was finally getting used to working as a maid. Where would I go if I were kicked out of here? But why should I be fired? I didn't do anything wrong. Was it a crime to be strong?
"Miss Daisy."
"Yes."
"To me, Miss Daisy means a lot."
I opened my eyes wide and looked at the head maid. The back of the maid's neck, while we climbed the stairs leading to the second floor, was as quiet and orderly as when we met during the day.
"You are the first person to hold out in the Weatherwood mansion for more than a week. But only today did I discover why you are the first. I want to say thank you."
Ah.
As I thought, was the head maid not aware of the threats the maids here experienced? However, it was somewhat strange to overlook it. Shouldn't the head maid be the most important target for the client who sent the assassins? Why didn't the assassin threaten the head maid?
The maid stopped in front of a bedroom door on the second floor. I didn't know this door, because this was none other than Viscount Weatherwoods's bedroom door.
"Will you see your master, Miss Daisy?"
Suddenly? The maid smiled a bit bitterly when I tilted my head in surprise. "I thought you'd be okay with that. Of course, the choice is yours. You may see your master or not..."
"I'll see him." I looked at the maid with the eyes of the most faithful maid that ever existed.
I would meet with Viscount Weatherwoods. Then I would get closer to the Weatherwoods. I would be named maid of the Weatherwoods for life. You couldn't fire me when it's for life! I could defeat the spies and no one would isolate me.
"I'll see him under any condition." This was an opportunity heaven gave me. No, the head maid. And I had no intention of missing the chance to be able to sleep comfortably in a bed without goinh hungry for three years.
"Respond politely."
"I'll definitely see him."
"You'll say 'Nice to meet you.' There are some things you should keep in mind. There are certain conditions for meeting the master. You must swear to me that you will not divulge information about your master to anyone."
"Wait, do you mean an oath? Like the oath that ensures one fulfills their promise or goal?" A weak, hasty look stared at me. The housemaid whispered to me in her characteristic quiet, calm voice.
"The oath here is a promise to each other's souls... it's part of magic. It's not recorded in speech or writing, but in the souls of both people. Although it seems like nothing, if you break it, there will be a great penalty."
There was only one penalty for an oath imprinted on the soul. "Death."
"Yes, I thought you'd know. It's a terrible condition, isn't it?"
"So who will enforce the oath?"
"I'll bind it to you myself."
She was right. It was very disgusting. Not the conditions set to meet Viscount Weatherwoods, but the head maid herself.
"Do you know how to make an oath?"
Magic was a kind of sport. There was a limit to the wall that could be climbed with effort and consistency, and after reaching a certain level, it became a sport in which one had to compete with natural talent and ingenuity. However, magic was the rarest of all sports that required talent.
In the first place, it was not common to be able to use magic, so even if you were average at it, it was possible to make a living for generations. The magic treatment hospital and magic tool workshops, of which every neighborhood has at least one, were usually workplaces for them throughout their lives.
The oath spell itself belonged to low-level magic with little difficulty. But whether it was low-ranking or not, a mage was still a mage. All mages received special additional points in the civil servant hiring process. It meant that even if you were as incompetent as an insect, you could live well off the national treasury.
A mage working as a simple maid. I wonder if that's why she wasn't killed by an assassin. She set a trap.
A family that was frequently visited by assassins. A family linked to the legacy of Dian Cecht. A family that hired mages as maids. The Weatherwoods... certainly a suspicious place.
"Give me your arm."
I pulled up my sleeve and extended my arm as requested. A total of two lines were drawn on the bottom of my forearm. They were all traces of oaths carved in my days living as Andert.
"Are all these... from oaths?" An oath was printed on the soul, not the body. So, even if my body returned from a man's to a woman's, the traces of the oath engraved on my very existence will not disappear. Oath traces could not be erased by any transformation magic and could only be covered. The easiest magic had the strongest power.
"Miss Daisy, what the hell have you been doing all this time? ...A soldier?" I looked away, as if I didn't hear her, and the maid just shook her head. Soon an oath line appeared on the arm I held out to her.
The two arms touched as one. A spiritual feeling floated between us. The maid whispered to me.
"I ask you to swear it. 'Do not reveal any secrets about the Weatherwoods family.' That is the condition, do you agree?"
"Agreed."
A long red line was drawn in the air. The line, burning like a flame, soon slowly fell onto our arms. Contact with skin was burning. The line, which burned the skin mercilessly, was soon etched like a tattoo and penetrated the soul. I had felt it every time I've done this, but it was still an unpleasant situation.
"Phew." Shortly after the maid let out a long sigh, the bedroom door opened.
The bedroom was dark. Even a handful of moonbeams hidden behind dark clouds were not allowed into the room with original curtains densely draped over the windows. The maid who lit a lamp next to the bed beckoned me.
"Come closer and set the table, Miss Daisy."
Why was this room so dark and quiet? Why didn't this room look like a room where people lived? Why couldn't I feel anyone else's presence besides me and the maid in this room? Why didn't Viscount Weatherwood even ask why the maids had come to visit him at such a late hour?
Faced with so many questions I had to force myself to swallow, I turned to Viscount Weatherwoods who was on the bed.
"This is the head and master of our Weatherwoods family. Viscount Weatherwoods, I mean..."
"The owner, Viscount Gray Weatherwoods."
It was an egg.