The Heroines Are After My Fortune

13 – Yulbeoji’s Secret Stash

The world of “Lady, You Dream Sweetly,” the novel I was isekai’d into, is a romantic fantasy genre but has events where raw strength is needed popping up constantly. My desperate attempt to recruit Caesar was also a product of that necessity. But it’s too early to relax just because I have him. As the story progresses, the power levels go even higher.

You might ask, isn’t it fine if I just hire people with money since I’m the richest person in this world? In this era, while money has value, prestige comes first. Most people you can hire with money have questionable abilities, so using money to find skilled people has its limitations. Of course, for huge upcoming events, I would pull all the strings I could, money or connections, to gather talent, but increasing my own strength is the fastest and easiest way.

I asked Caesar, one of the strongest people in the world, to assess my swordsmanship talent once again.

Who knows? Maybe that guy who once said it would be difficult for me to make a living using a sword had been completely blind.

“….I think it’s best if you give up. In my life, you are among those with the least talent.”

But reality was a swamp. Regardless of anything else, I lacked the talent to master the ‘form’ of swordsmanship. If I really wanted to, he could teach me his ‘Mana Cultivation Technique’ but with my swordsmanship talent, it would only make me healthy enough not to fall ill. His harsh evaluation almost broke me.

But me, Aiden Roen, a man who knows no surrender.

There’s gotta be a way to fix my hopeless lack of strength. The original story dropped hints, more than a few times.

‘Golden Pig Marco, that’s the guy to benchmark.’

The only character in the original who ‘got strong through money, even without talent.’

Born the only son of a mega-merchant house, one of the few that could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Roen Trading Company, Marco had no sword talent. But he filled that void, buying up artifacts through auctions and shady channels, eventually reaching a conditional Sword Expert level. I’ll use that as a reference, and I’ll climb to a higher plane than that b*stard.

‘Of course, it’ll mean risking your life.’

But isn’t that obvious? You can’t just loaf around while others bleed sweat in training and then hope to catch up to their effort, risk-free. That’s a thief’s mentality.

Just like Captain America took a gamble with the super-soldier serum and became a hero, if I want to be meaningfully strong, I need to take a chance. Still, the odds of ending up in the worst-case scenario aren’t that high. The Saintess promised to help, after all. Even so, instead of just relying on that, I need to take action with my own two feet.

The first key to this secret was right nearby.

Inside Yulnemanni’s private office, where she worked.

“To summon me, armed, to your office at this late hour, what business could you possibly have?”

Caesar, summoned, opened the office door and stepped inside. He was living at the mansion with Sasha under the fake identity I’d provided.

“We have a place to go.”

“……Hmm?”

I grinned and pushed one of the books on the bookshelf towards the wall.

*Dududududu——!*

And just like that, the bookcase began to slide open to the left and right.

A staircase leading down below ground appeared in its place.

“Truly the richest family in the Empire, ain’t they. Some kinda hidden room…”

This was Yulnemanni’s secret vault where she kept her personal belongings. For some reason, she hadn’t written down its location for me, but in the original story, Marquis Rafael found this place and acquired what he wanted. After poking around the office whenever I had time, I finally found it.

“Ha ha, lead the way.”

“…….Alright.”

And so, we stepped into the underground storage. It felt strange that such a gloomy place existed within this vibrant mansion. The storage structure was simple: a straight brick corridor with magical lamps emitting light at regular intervals on both side walls. As we walked, we came across a large door.

At its center, a panel was placed, with a groove just large enough for a hand to fit.

“Do I place my hand here?”

“Yes, I shall place mine, so wait and see.”

The door shuddered open, left and right, when I laid my palm on it.

“…It seems this door only opens for those of the Roen bloodline. I’ve heard tell of security systems like this.”

“Since you’ve heard of it, no need for further explanation. Correct.”

‘Correct, my ass.’

Even a passing mongrel paw could have opened it.

As soon as the door opened, a huge, empty space yawned before us.

And in the middle stood a wyvern statue that looked as if a sinister red gem was embedded within it, glaring at us. The statue’s purpose was simple: for those with Roen blood, it would act as a mere ornament. For any outsiders, though…

[KRooo—————!!]

“………………Hmm!?”

Just like that, the wyvern statue awakens.

That’s why Old Man Yul didn’t tell me the location of this place. If I, who was not his real son, came here, I’d be considered an outsider and be killed, so he probably wanted to bury this place. The fact that anyone could get in by just touching the panel, that reeks of his vile and disgusting taste.

‘Not going to happen.’

Now that I’ve found it, I’m going to suck every last drop of profit out of it. This was where he kept the expensive items he’d purchased for lobbying high-ranking nobles or for profit by playing the market. I know of some of the things that are here, but what important items would justify installing a wyvern statue? I can’t help but be excited.

“Tch, so that’s why you brought me here…”

A chilling aura rose as the wyvern statue took to the air, and Caesar clicked his tongue. Golems crafted by magical engineering, they were, but a wyvern’s natural balance of combat and mobility made them a poor match for swordsmen. Even the most skilled were no exception.

“Don’t push yourself. If you can’t take it, just run away, you know.”

“…………!”

My words, ‘If you’re scared, just flee,’ seemed to set him off, boiling his blood. He drew his sword.

Looks like I’d rubbed him the wrong way.

“I could take that rock pile down even with both arms gone.”

And with that, Caesar started to draw up his aura.

The might he showed then… it was something that truly warranted the title ‘Sword Master’.

###

“…Seems there are no more.”

Five wyvern statues had sprung up, but now they lay in pieces, scattered on the floor.

“Looks like it. Good work.”

Together, we went deeper inside. And there it was: a small wooden door.

The honey pot had to be on the other side.

*Creak—*

The door opened, revealing a surprisingly simple scene.

‘Huh…?’

I’d pictured a room glittering with gold, with strange artifacts rolling about, but it was remarkably plain. A lone sword on a worn desk, a black scroll, and five oddly colored potions in what looked like a wine rack – that was all. Still, a shiver ran down my spine.

‘……Jackpot?’

If my guess was right, that sword was surely ‘that sword,’ the one the Marquis got his hands on and loved using.

I asked Caesar to draw the sword.

*Sssshing-*

“Just as I thought, an Ego-Sword.”

This sword, with its pitch-black blade, was the Ego-Sword ‘Chart,’ used by a Sword Master who was once called the ‘Conqueror.’ It’s one of the few weapons whose name is ever mentioned in the stories.

“Hmm…!”

“Caesar! What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, the veins on Caesar’s left arm, which was holding the sword, began to swell rapidly. Surely, a powerful force was surging from the sword. As if refusing to be defeated, Caesar unleashed a burst of fierce aura and quickly subdued the energy coming from the sword.

“The sword tried to seize my body. A sword that would harm its owner.”

He shook his head with a cluck and then tossed the sword onto the floor. I’d have been screwed if I’d held it. I needed to be careful until a safety measure was established. I was still too weak to experience that sword’s true value, so it would have to wait for another time.

Caesar and I moved towards the display case. As I wracked my brain trying to figure out what those potions were, Caesar seemed to recognize them and began to tremble violently.

“Elixir…!? How did he get five bottles of this precious stuff…”

‘This is an Elixir…?’

To think that Yul-Beoji, alone, had half of the less than ten bottles that remain in the entire empire. He really lived up to being the wealthiest man in the empire. So greedy.

‘…Maybe Elixir is good for stamina?’

Then Yul-Beoji’s desire to sire an heir until his dying breath might be a bit more understandable.

Anyway, I’d been thinking of spending a fortune to get one or two bottles for my plan, but who knew I’d get them for free like this. My chances of survival having increased dramatically, a smirk began to creep across my face.

“Hm, what is this scroll…”

“…Ah, I’ll take that.”

As Caesar reached for the remaining scroll, I snatched it away with a sly move. He didn’t seem to care and just nodded quietly before turning away. This item, in particular, was something I couldn’t show to Caesar, or anyone for that matter.

‘The Devil Summoning Grimoire, which Marquis Raphael tried so hard to obtain, even going so far as to arrange a political marriage with my family.’

Yulne might’ve held that thing without ever truly knowing what it was. Likely oblivious that the Este Marquis had proposed marriage because of it. The Este family wasn’t actually struggling financially. That’s why many nobles were suspicious of their choosing the Loen family over other dukes or marquises.

The reason was this object, the ‘Demonic Summoning Grimoire’. Its power was simple.

Sacrifice your own bloodline on a hexagram, then tear this grimoire to summon a demon and gain immense strength. Marquis Raphael had killed his father 20 years ago to become a Sword Master, and 10 years ago, his wife to become one of the Empire’s Seven Pillars.

And after those two slain,

it was his daughter, Renee Este’s turn.

Unable to shake his endless thirst for power, Marquis Raphael ultimately, in the latter half of the original story, would kill his daughter with his own hands. The demonic strength he gained from that would propel him to Grand Master status.

‘What must it have felt like? To be offered as a demon’s sacrifice by the very father you trusted and relied on.’

Some might say that was a fitting end for a villainess, but I couldn’t even begin to fathom that kind of pain.