Free Web NovelChapter 48: The Greatest Enemy of My Dream
The city was beautiful.
Which was unfortunate.
Because Seraphina immediately fell in love with it.
The moment they passed through the gates, her eyes lit up.
Fashion shops.
Accessory stores.
Fabric merchants.
Tailors.
Dressmakers.
Fancy nobles.
Rich customers.
Money.
Most importantly—
Fashion.
Seraphina stood in the middle of the street staring at a luxury clothing store like someone witnessing a divine revelation.
A woman exited carrying three expensive dresses.
Seraphina followed her with her eyes.
Then another customer.
Then another.
Then another.
A dangerous sparkle appeared.
Kael recognized it instantly.
That sparkle usually cost money.
Or property.
Sometimes both.
"I want a shop."
"We know."
"A big shop."
"We know."
"A beautiful shop."
"We know."
"A profitable shop."
"We definitely know."
Seraphina pointed dramatically toward the city.
"My empire begins here."
Daren immediately pointed at Atlas.
"The empire currently eats fifty percent of your money."
Atlas looked offended.
The bear had no idea what percentages were.
But he somehow understood disrespect.
Tax landed on Atlas’s head.
The crow cawed supportively.
Traitor.
Both of them.
Unfortunately—
The city soon revealed a terrible truth.
Finding a shop was hard.
Finding a shop that allowed Atlas was impossible.
Shop Number One looked perfect.
Large windows.
Good location.
Reasonable price.
The owner smiled warmly.
The owner liked Seraphina.
The owner liked her business idea.
The owner liked everything.
Then Atlas tried entering.
Halfway through the doorway—
He got stuck.
The owner stared.
Atlas stared.
The doorway stared.
Several painful seconds passed.
Then Atlas backed out.
The owner quietly closed the door.
Negotiations ended.
Shop Number Two looked even better.
The owner loved animals.
A promising start.
Atlas fit.
Success.
A miracle.
Then Tax stole a customer’s necklace.
Failure.
Immediate failure.
The owner screamed.
The customer screamed.
Tax escaped.
Atlas followed.
Seraphina ran after them.
Daren laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe.
Shop Number Three lasted six minutes.
A new record.
The owner agreed.
The price was fair.
The location was excellent.
Everything was perfect.
Then Atlas sneezed.
Three mannequins died.
The deal died with them.
By evening—
Seraphina sat on a bench.
Defeated.
Atlas sat beside her.
Tax sat on Atlas.
The trio looked like victims of the economy.
Daren approached carefully.
"How’s the dream?"
"It got ratioed."
Silence.
Rowan blinked.
Daren blinked.
A merchant walking past blinked.
"What does that mean?"
Rowan finally asked.
Seraphina pointed at the sky.
"It means reality said no."
"Then why not say that?"
"Because ratioed sounds better."
Nobody understood.
Kael didn’t even ask anymore.
Weeks ago he would’ve demanded an explanation.
Now?
Acceptance.
Pure acceptance.
A man could only lose so many battles.
The group continued walking.
Another shop.
Another rejection.
Another disaster.
Another failure.
Eventually Rowan stopped.
"There."
Everyone looked.
A large building sat near the edge of the commercial district.
Old.
Abandoned.
Huge.
Seraphina’s eyes widened.
Atlas would fit.
Actually—
Atlas could fit three times.
The bear immediately wandered inside.
Several birds flew out.
Dust exploded everywhere.
Tax entered through a broken window.
The crow immediately began investigating.
Like he owned the place.
A familiar trait.
Seraphina slowly looked around.
Then at the building.
Then at Atlas.
Then at the building again.
Then back at Atlas.
The calculations happening behind her eyes terrified Kael.
Because he knew exactly what was happening.
A dream was forming.
An expensive dream.
A dangerous dream.
A dream involving construction.
He hated construction.
Construction cost money.
Money he was somehow always paying.
"Don’t."
Too late.
Seraphina pointed dramatically.
"I can fix her."
The building looked offended.
Daren groaned.
Rowan sighed.
Kael felt a headache forming.
The city remained completely unaware that a future disaster had just chosen a target.
Later that evening—
The group gathered inside an inn.
Atlas occupied an entire corner.
Tax slept on Atlas’s head.
A little boy had spent ten minutes trying to figure out whether Tax was actually a crow or a tiny criminal.
The jury remained undecided.
Meanwhile—
Seraphina stared at a notebook.
A very important notebook.
Her financial notebook.
Several seconds passed.
Then her face changed.
Kael immediately noticed.
"What."
Seraphina slowly looked up.
The expression wasn’t good.
Not good at all.
"Atlas is expensive."
Daren nearly choked.
"YOU JUST REALIZED?"
She ignored him.
Opened another page.
Then another.
Then another.
The silence grew.
Then—
"Oh."
A dangerous word.
Kael immediately moved closer.
"What."
"Atlas ate enough food this month to support a small family."
Nobody reacted.
Then she turned another page.
"Oh."
Another one.
Even worse.
"What."
"A large family."
Daren started laughing.
The innkeeper started laughing.
Even Rowan looked amused.
Atlas remained asleep.
Completely unaware of the economic devastation he’d caused.
Tax opened one eye. freewёbnoνel.com
Then went back to sleep.
Zero guilt.
The worst kind of criminal.
Several minutes later—
The laughter faded.
The atmosphere relaxed.
For the first time in days, nobody was fighting monsters.
Nobody was chasing mysteries.
Nobody was running.
Just friends sitting together.
Atlas snoring.
Tax stealing sleep.
A peaceful moment.
Then Seraphina suddenly looked up.
"I haven’t been a villainess lately."
The room froze.
Instantly.
Completely.
Even Atlas stopped snoring.
Nobody liked that sentence.
Nobody.
Kael slowly lowered his cup.
Daren slowly sat up.
Rowan slowly looked away from his map.
The innkeeper quietly retreated.
Experience had taught him survival.
"What."
Kael asked carefully.
Seraphina tapped her chin.
Thinking.
A dangerous activity.
A truly dangerous activity.
"I’ve been helping people."
Nobody argued.
"I’ve been saving people."
Still true.
"I’ve been feeding Atlas."
Not relevant.
"But."
There it was.
The dreaded but.
The word that created problems.
The word that launched arcs.
The word that destroyed peace.
Seraphina smiled.
Not her normal smile.
The problem smile.
The smile that made Kael fear for society.
"I think I need to do something villainess-like."
Silence.
Pure silence.
Then Kael noticed something.
A stack of paper.
Fresh paper.
Lots of paper.
Far too much paper.
An unreasonable amount of paper.
His eyes narrowed.
"Why did you buy all that?"
Seraphina immediately hid the stack behind her back.
An incredibly suspicious action.
Nobody believed it.
Not for one second.
"Research."
"No."
"Creative expression."
"No."
"Art."
"No."
She smiled wider.
Dangerously wider.
Then she looked toward the window.
Toward the city.
Toward the countless nobles living inside it.
And for some reason—
Everyone suddenly felt sorry for them.
Because whatever Seraphina was planning...
It definitely involved that paper.
And history suggested that was terrible news for somebody.
The question was—
Who?
The next morning—
Kael woke up early.
A mistake.
A terrible mistake. freewebnøvel.coɱ
Because Seraphina was already awake.
Worse—
She was drawing.
The table was covered with papers.
Papers covered with sketches.
Papers covered with notes.
Papers covered with what appeared to be crimes against art.
Kael approached cautiously.
Then stopped.
A drawing of a fat rat wearing a noble’s face stared back at him.
Another drawing showed a pig sitting on a mountain of gold.
Another showed a noble kissing a mirror.
Another showed somebody being chased by bags of taxes.
Kael slowly sat down.
"What am I looking at?"
"Justice."
"No."
"Art."
"No."
"Villainess activities."
That answer was unfortunately believable.
Seraphina continued drawing.
Atlas slept nearby.
Tax stood on the table.
Acting like an assistant.
The crow occasionally pecked drawings he approved of.
Which somehow made the final products worse.
Then—
Seraphina began humming.
A strange melody.
Then singing.
"~ Money goes away, Atlas eats all day~"
Kael sighed.
The song continued.
"~ Tax steals shiny things and somehow gets away~"
Tax looked proud.
"~ My future shop needs money, so villains gotta pay~"
A merchant walking past immediately changed direction.
Good instincts.
Very good instincts.
Meanwhile—
Far away.
In the capital.
Inside the royal palace.
A tall young man with dark blue hair sat behind a desk.
Crown Prince Cassian Astor.
The future ruler of the empire.
Currently suffering.
Not from politics.
Not from war.
Not from nobles.
Paperwork.
The true final boss.
A mountain of documents sat before him.
Cassian stared.
The documents stared back.
Neither side respected the other.
A knock came.
"Enter."
A knight entered.
Holding a letter.
Cassian immediately frowned.
The knight looked nervous.
Very nervous.
An alarming sign.
"What is it?"
"A letter, Your Highness."
Cassian reached for it.
Then paused.
Because the front contained a drawing.
A very familiar drawing.
A badly drawn crown.
A badly drawn person.
A badly drawn arrow.
And beneath it:
"To Blue-Hair."
Silence.
Cassian stared.
The knight stared.
The letter stared.
The knight finally asked:
"...Should I burn it?"
Cassian opened it.
Against his better judgment.
A terrible decision.
Inside:
Dear Blue-Hair,
I saw a noble trying to charge ten times the normal price yesterday.
That was cringe.
Fix your empire.
Also Atlas says hi.
Drawing attached.
Seraphina
Cassian slowly flipped the page.
A drawing waited.
The noble appeared as a rat.
The rat appeared unhappy.
The rat also somehow looked exactly like the noble.
Cassian stared for several seconds.
Then—
To the knight’s horror—
The Crown Prince laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
A rare event.
An extremely rare event.
"She’s causing problems again."
The knight looked confused.
"Again?"
Cassian folded the letter carefully.
Very carefully.
Like it was somehow important.
Because somehow—
It was.
The palace had become quieter since Seraphina left.
Less chaotic.
Less entertaining.
Less alive.
Cassian hated admitting that.
So naturally—
He admitted nothing.
"Send someone to investigate the merchant."
The knight blinked.
"The merchant?"
Cassian tapped the letter.
"If she bothered writing about him, he’s probably guilty."
Unfortunately.
That statement had proven correct several times already.
The knight accepted reality.
Again.
