Chapter 46: Chapter 46: The Expected Attack

When Rosalind Bennett appeared before the public again with the Trade Hall Guards, she seemed unchanged. There was no hint that just minutes before, she had been about to offer a Soul Contract to a man she had just met.

She was still dressed in a hunting outfit practical for winter travel. Her jaunty, silver-white hair fluttered in the cold wind, making her look like a crystal orchid blooming in the snow—aloof and beautiful.

But that indescribable, ethereal quality about her had changed, becoming sharp and biting.

Merely looking at her, at this famously aloof beauty, the crowd in front of the trading house gradually fell silent.

Once the only sound was the whistling of the harsh wind, Rosalind spoke.

"Everyone—"

Her voice wasn’t loud, yet it reached every ear with perfect clarity, carrying a calm and dignified Penetration.

"What happened today is regrettable. Ultimately, it is because of some internal mismanagement within our Noble United Commerce Association."

"I am truly and deeply sorry."

As she spoke, she placed a hand over her heart and bowed in apology to the crowd below.

No one expressed dissatisfaction with her words.

In fact, quite a few of those lurking behind the scenes had been hoping someone of Rosalind’s stature within the Noble United Commerce Association would step forward and take the blame.

This way, many of their subsequent schemes could be put into motion.

And so, a current of restlessness began to stir beneath the seemingly calm surface.

But the silver-haired lady either didn’t notice, or she simply didn’t care.

She simply continued speaking in her uniquely cold, clear voice.

"After a thorough investigation, the Noble United Commerce Association will give everyone a proper explanation. Any friends injured inside the trading house today will also receive appropriate compensation."

"Furthermore, due to structural safety hazards, the Golden Maple Leaf Trading House will be temporarily closed. We will be commissioning the Dwarf Artisans from the Architects’ Association to conduct a complete overhaul of the entire building. A reopening date will be announced in due course."

"As for now, we have other urgent matters to attend to. Please excuse us."

Rosalind’s closing remarks were brief and cold, but her subsequent slight bow perfectly conveyed the decorum and apology expected of the Noble United Commerce Association.

She then descended the steps, flanked by her Trade Hall Guards.

The onlookers exchanged glances, but ultimately, no one stepped forward to stop her or raise any objections.

After she had said her piece, pressing the matter further would simply be a poor show of judgment.

The Noble United Commerce Association, as an organization, might be facing temporary difficulties, but it was ultimately founded by the people who held power in this country: the nobility.

Take their guards, for instance. Many of them were former retainers of noble houses, and some were even veterans, hired after retiring from the army and returning to their hometowns!

As the synchronized rhythm of their footsteps struck the stone steps, it was like a drumbeat pounding on the hearts of the watchers, a silent but powerful deterrent!

Within the bounds of the rules, they were unstoppable.

And outside the rules, they were not to be underestimated!

And mixed in among them was a tall, imposing figure.

He trailed behind and to Rosalind’s left, clad in the standard-issue leather armor of the Noble United Commerce Association. He carried a leather shield on one arm and a sword in his hand. Aside from the firm, stern jawline visible beneath his half-faced Helmet, he looked no different from the other guards.

At least, that’s how it appeared to outsiders.

As they descended the steps, the guard supervisor, Sir Evans, approached and nodded to Rosalind.

"Rosalind, it’s been taken care of."

His voice was deep and calm, steadfast as a rock.

He was, of course, referring to the Adventurers who had caused the disturbance inside the trading house.

After their leader vanished, the group had lost all nerve, not daring to make a single move in the presence of a true Knight-level powerhouse. They were now discreetly contained by the Trade Hall Guards.

What awaited them were interrogation methods not meant for public knowledge.

Upon receiving the report, Rosalind neither stopped nor replied, merely tilting her head slightly to signal for him to follow.

Evans rested a hand on the Longsword at his waist, his gaze habitually sweeping over the squad of guards behind Rosalind, checking for anything unusual.

But when his eyes fell on the stranger behind Rosalind wearing one of his men’s uniforms, his gaze paused.

For one, none of his men had that kind of build. For another, the man’s posture, his gait, and even the aura he exuded were completely at odds with those of a true Trade Hall Guard.

’He’s a professional!’

His expression remained unchanged as he sent a questioning glance toward Rosalind.

’Who is he?’

Rosalind didn’t look back, simply returning his glance.

’He’s one of us.’

Receiving this clear signal, Evans said no more. Years of professionalism compelled him to choose Silence.

He simply moved silently to Rosalind’s right, mirroring the other guard’s position and keeping Rosalind protected between them.

Soon, the group led out horses that had already been prepared.

Rosalind mounted her horse in a single, fluid motion. The hunting attire suited her perfectly on horseback; the movement was clean and efficient, the very picture of dashing competence.

The imposing guard and Evans flanked her on the left and right, respectively, following close behind.

The other guards also mounted up, and the small party immediately formed a cautious, protective formation.

The thud of hooves was muffled on the snow-covered streets as they quickly departed the district of the Noble United Commerce Association.

Once they passed through the city gates, the party picked up speed.

The howling wind whipped up pellets of snow from the ground, lashing their faces with a bone-deep chill.

The imposing guard to Rosalind’s left, Jon, finally couldn’t resist glancing at her profile.

The woman remained as composed as ever, as if everything that had happened between them in the lounge had failed to leave the slightest ripple on the surface of her heart.

’What a ruthless woman... Good thing I am, too,’ he thought.

However, just as the party traveled some ten li outside of town and entered an open clearing surrounded by a sparse pine forest—disaster struck!

As one of the guards suddenly toppled from his horse, bringing the party to a brief halt, a black blur shot out from the pine forest to their left. It moved like a cannonball, carrying with it a suffocating aura of death.

It was an assassin, draped in a black robe and wreathed in shadows. His face, hidden beneath a deep hood, was impossible to see.

But the most striking feature was the pair of blood-red gloves on his hands, a shocking, garish crimson against the pristine white snow.

His target was perfectly clear. Completely ignoring the surrounding Trade Hall Guards, his body twisted unnaturally in mid-air, bypassing the outer ring of men entirely. He swooped down like a falcon, his dagger aimed straight for Rosalind’s throat!

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