Chapter 65: A Night Ripe for Arson

Silently and without a sound, Lance took down two patrolling guards outside. Without a hint of courtesy, he stripped them of their uniforms, donned one himself, and handed the other to a certain someone.

That certain someone, hiding behind a tree, resignedly began her third costume change of the day. After slipping into the guard’s attire, she carefully stashed her maid outfit and Lance’s spare maid outfit in a spot easy to remember. In case tonight’s rescue failed, they might retrace their steps, slip back into their maid uniforms, and blend in under the pretense of cleaning up dishes, sneaking into her own room to wake the real maid and instruct her to collect the dishes as if nothing had happened.

She looked at the maid outfit on the ground with mixed feelings. On one hand, she hoped her task would succeed tonight—having to do this repeatedly felt like shaving years off her life. On the other, if it failed, she’d have the perfect excuse to admire Lance’s adorable maid look again. What a dilemma… Internally, she gnawed on her imaginary handkerchief, torn in indecision.

Still, despite her tangled thoughts, she dared not delay. While pondering, she stepped out, using her own concocted potion to alter both her and Lance’s conspicuous red eyes to a more ordinary hue. With wigs and soldier caps in place, two striking figures melted instantly into the crowd, becoming just another pair of black-haired, dark-eyed faces.

“Do you always carry eye-color-changing potions and wigs with you?” Lance whispered.

She looked at him gravely. “Actually, I only prepared these after deducing, through rigorous reasoning, that we’d have a special operation in Silver City. It’s not like I brought them just in case we needed to escape…”

She wished she could bite off her own tongue for saying too much.

“Oh~” Lance smiled serenely, “Not for escaping—running—away—at all!”

Following the patrol route they had observed earlier, they made a show of circling half the grounds in disguise. Once assured no one was watching, they mustered their courage and approached the rear entrance.

Two adult men with frozen, expressionless faces stood guard at the back door, unmoving. Even when the two patrolling figures veered off their route and walked straight toward them, the guards barely reacted, not even flicking their eyes.

Were these two human statues, only activated by a coin toss? She followed close behind Lance, not daring to make any sudden moves, but her mind was as lively as ever.

Sure enough, as they drew near—just a step away from passing shoulder to shoulder—the guards finally moved. Their metal spears crossed before them in an “X,” barring their path.

“Password!” a stiff voice rang out.

“Open sesame?” she replied, curiosity piqued.

The guards remained motionless, but upon hearing her deliberately softened, feminine voice, they couldn’t help but glance her way.

This was the moment! Lance swiftly conjured two powerful balls of lightning, aiming for the guards’ necks. The guards reacted quickly, thrusting their spears directly at Lance’s heart.

Yet, they forgot to account for the combat prowess of the person behind Lance—and the resistance of the air itself.

With a sly grin, she recalled the countless nights on the road, forced by Lance to practice, coaxed and threatened alike. With little sleep and days spent hurrying and acting, she had longed for a proper outlet. Now, finally, she could show her skill!

A flick of her hand summoned wind elements from layered spaces, forming a dense wind magic sphere that blocked the spears’ path to Lance’s chest. The powerful air resistance halted the metal spears, trapping them within the sphere, unable to move forward or back.

The rear guards strained every muscle to break through the transparent barrier. She poured more magical energy into the sphere, determined to hold her ground despite being outnumbered. Still, their combined strength slowly breached her magic.

Then came two muffled groans as Lance’s electric balls struck the guards’ vulnerable necks. Their eyes rolled back and they collapsed. She let out a huge sigh of relief, the sudden drain of magical power leaving her mind blank, but she kept channeling energy until Lance picked up the fallen spears, preventing them from clattering noisily to the ground.

“You’re basically a giant, mobile stun stick,” she gasped, still finding time to comment on Lance.

Lance ignored her, refusing to delve into her odd choice of words. “Is there any way to make it look like these two are still guarding the door?”

“Why bother? Are you worried about them losing pay?” she asked, puzzled.

“I’m worried other patrolling guards will get suspicious. Hurry up,” Lance explained briefly, urging her to act.

She wracked her brain for a solution, finally landing on an idea she could execute immediately.

So, as she and Lance stepped through the back door of the Marshal’s residence, the two guards resumed their posts—at least, in appearance. If one smiled and overlooked the bodies propped up by three ice pillars linking their uniforms to the wall, the hands and spears frozen together, and their closed eyes… Well, let’s just say they were sleepwalking.

She almost couldn’t bear to look at her handiwork.

Inside the General’s residence, she realized just how vast it was. The maze of paths and shadowy trees made her dizzy. At first, she thought she’d try to remember the way, but after a short walk, she abandoned the idea entirely—it was hopeless.

Whoever designed this garden must have been an idiot; these paths were as confusing as a labyrinth. If the owner got lost in his own grounds, imagine the scandal! She silently scorned the architect.

Lance, however, showed no sign of being perplexed by the simple maze. He moved with ease, as if strolling through his own garden.

Five steps forward, right turn at the next red poplar, follow the path to the fork and turn left, then ignore the path and walk straight toward the green shadow tree ahead…

Lance silently recited the key points of the maze, paying no mind to the increasingly bewildered look in her eyes.

Who was Lance, really? Parents unknown, birthplace a mystery, generous, gentle, an expert in high society etiquette and rules, even familiar with the layout of mazes—these weren’t things taught in ordinary schools.

Her long-held suspicions about Lance rose once more.