Westminster Bank

Chapter 297: Chapter 180: Isabella

A full moon rose above the peaks. On the summit of a mountain within the range, Baron and Isabella sat with their backs against the tallest, largest eucalyptus tree.

The tree’s branches and leaves were a vast canopy, reaching for the moon in the bonfire’s faint glow.

This was their rest time after the robbery.

Baron handed the sorted Dragon Scales from Sixth Generation Species and higher to Isabella. Meanwhile, he secretly tucked the "sponsorship" money he had squeezed out of the Dragon Guides—nearly ten thousand pounds—into the Gentiana Pattern Ring hidden on his person.

Jack was right. It was indeed much easier to make money on the Inner Side than on the Outer Side.

No wonder some of the Bloodless willingly stayed on the Inner Side. The money was just that good.

By the time they finished robbing Dewey and his party, night had fallen, and the Dragon Descendants had become much more active than during the day.

Under the cover of darkness, Baron and Isabella robbed a few more groups on the outskirts of the mountain range, but their haul was meager. The Dragon Descendants in the outer areas were of low Tier, and Isabella disdained robbing some of the Seventh and Eighth Generation Species. All they had to show for the entire night was a single Dragon Scale from a Sixth Generation Species.

Baron, meanwhile, leveraged Isabella’s fearsome reputation to squeeze quite a few benefits out of the Dragon Guides who had previously looked down on him—such as a rough map of the Dracul Mountain Range from a century ago.

Baron studied the map, planning his own escape route for after he helped Isabella collect enough Dragon Scales to activate the Dragon Spear’s guidance.

He had originally planned to make a run for it during the chaos of their robberies, but whenever his hand so much as touched the chains, Isabella’s cold, sharp gaze would instantly shoot over like an arrow.

Furthermore, the chains had a suppressive effect on Spiritual Power. They were made of some unknown metal; Baron estimated that even Dragon Flame would take some time to burn through them. Given the combat prowess Isabella had shown, he really couldn’t be certain he could get away.

Therefore, his only chance of leaving, for now, was to rely on the deal he had with Isabella.

His gaze fell upon the woman by the fire, who had casually picked up a flat stone and was using it to sharpen her blade.

A small stack of Dragon Scales lay before her. At this rate, he estimated they would have enough to activate the guidance after another two or three days of robberies.

It would be even faster if they happened upon a High Tier Dragon Descendant—though that was something that could only happen if Baron wasn’t present, of course.

That was why Baron found her sharpening her blade to be a bit superfluous. The Trial Takers in the mountains were all descendants of the bigwigs from various factions.

To prevent the danger of Trial Takers killing each other instead of being killed by Dragon Descendants, a measure had been put in place. During the initial Branding ritual, the Priests had embedded a special sequence of symbols into the Curse Technique. Only a Wizard of Silver Tier or higher who was also a master of Alchemy could even attempt to break it.

This special sequence of symbols was designed to deploy a mark if a Trial Taker was killed by another person. The killer would be marked as well.

Afterward, the various great families and the Law Enforcement Organization could use these marks to investigate the cause of death.

Smoke drifted up from the bonfire. Gazing through the swirling plumes, which shifted from thick to thin, Baron once again took the opportunity to idly study the woman’s features.

She had an oval face that was neither conventionally charming nor overtly seductive. She had a high-bridged nose and full lips, but on their own, her features were those of any pretty, unassuming woman you might find on the streets of Birmingham.

But the killing intent in her expression—so different from the usual heroic or elegant airs—lent her a cold beauty that set her apart. It filled anyone who met her gaze with an unconscious dread, making them feel like a mythical believer who had accidentally slain the Golden-Horned Deer and now groveled at the feet of the goddess Artemis, begging for forgiveness.

Most terrifying of all were her eyes—a deep blue, as solid and unyielding as an iceberg.

Baron had seen the eyes of many women, but never a pair so sharp, so wild, so filled with murderous intent.

Like locking eyes with a leopardess in the jungle—cruel, and yet beautiful.

Baron’s gaze traveled past the gold and silver rings that jingled with each scrape of the stone, landing on a black butterfly hairpin swaying in the dark. It sparked a strange sense of familiarity, but he couldn’t quite place it.

So he could only watch in silence: watch the woman sharpen her blade with clean, efficient strokes; watch the steel glow a searing charcoal-red in the firelight, then turn pale as it caught the silver of the moon.

He watched a lock of hair, bound by a silver ring, flow down from the vest of her Hunting Outfit to spill across her ample chest... ’Hm... A... A... B... Overall, she gets an A.’

Baron was rating Isabella with the system he and his roommates used for scoring girls back in his college dorm days, back in his past life.

As his roommate would have put it: great face, great body, not-so-great personality.

Isabella said coldly, "I don’t want to have to dig your eyes out."

Baron took the hint and averted his gaze.

’Yep, personality’s definitely not so great.’

"Why did you choose the middle path today?"

"Hm?" Baron grunted, looking up.

Isabella repeated flatly, "I’m asking why you chose the middle path at the fork, since you’re not a Dragon Guide. You’re no ordinary Old Race; you should have been able to sense the danger on that path."

’She’s suspicious of me because of the rampaging Thunder Wolf Dragon Group. I need to come up with a good excuse.’

Baron said, "I was just taking a chance. I figured with fewer people around, it would be a good time to make a run for it."

’Half truth, half lie.’

But after asking, Isabella said no more. Baron breathed an inward sigh of relief. Frankly, he had no desire to spend any more time than necessary with the eldest daughter of the Beowulf Family.

For one, she was powerful. For another, she wasn’t someone who could be easily fooled. And finally, she was something of a former childhood acquaintance; the more familiar someone was with you, the easier it was for them to notice when something was off.

Although the diary and his inherited memories didn’t contain much about her—it seemed they had no contact after their engagement was broken—he couldn’t rule out the possibility of slipping up in some other way.