I, Viretta, Am Going to Hunt a Dragon-Chapter 53

“Why is someone from that cursed Medleidge family here?!”

“Damn it, Medleidge! I’ve heard about her—the tall, arrogant, and impossible-to-deal-with daughter! We should’ve been more careful!”

“Yeah! Just listening to her earlier, it’s obvious she’s completely impossible!”

“Excuse me? Me?”

The bandits banged their heads against walls and pounded the ground in anguish.

They looked so pitiful that even the usually confident Viretta began to wonder if she’d truly done something terrible.

Of course, calling her arrogant and impossible to deal with was completely unfair, but the sins of her family were undeniable. People who earned enormous fortunes were always targets of envy, jealousy, and resentment.

“Look at her shameless face—acting like she’s done nothing wrong. She’s exactly like the rumors say!”

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“Could you stop slandering me? I’m the conscience of the Medleidge family, its beloved treasure, and my grandfather’s adorable fool, thank you very much.”

Viretta raised an eyebrow and retorted, but the bandits’ faces darkened even further.

“This is bad. She’s definitely the real deal. Every word out of her mouth sounds ominous.”

“Aren’t you the ones being rude right now?”

Ignoring Viretta’s complaints, Iola stepped forward calmly. When he drew his sword and took his stance, the group immediately grew uneasy.

“Calm down! There are more of us than them! Don’t panic—just fight back!”

“Yeah! He’s right!”

Despite their teary eyes and trembling hands, the bandits tightened their grips on their weapons, trying to muster some courage.

“We charge on three.”

“One, two—”

“Three!”

The moment the count ended, the bandits suddenly grabbed their fallen comrade and bolted down the hallway—in the opposite direction of Viretta and Iola.

As they fled, they shouted back at them.

“D-don’t chase us, and we won’t kill you!”

“Isn’t that backward? Aren’t you supposed to take our money?!”

Viretta raised her voice, calling after their retreating figures.

After going through all the trouble to fake being ghosts and set up their robbery, they abandoned everything and fled just because of the Medleidge name. It was absurd.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’ll just slap us with interest and make us owe even more later!”

“Yeah, you demons! Who borrows from Medleidge? With those 20% interest rates, we’d be ruined again!”

“Get lost, you devils!”

The bandits fled down the stairs, their terrified expressions met only with Iola’s quiet, pitying gaze.

“Run! Medleidge is here!”

“They’ve come to kill us!”

At the bandit leader’s shout, more people burst out of hiding spots in the inn and fled in droves.

Apparently, there were even more people hidden in the building than they’d realized. At least nine or ten, possibly even more, bolted for the exit.

They hadn’t panicked like this even when facing Moslin and her lightning magic.

But the mere emblem of the Medleidge family had them tripping over themselves to escape.

A 20% interest rate was scarier than swords.

Ranken stared forlornly at the scene outside and muttered,

“I told you, Viretta. Debt is the scariest thing in the world.”

“I hate to say this, Viretta, but it seems your father’s reputation is worse than I thought,” Iola added, equally somber.

Viretta, however, turned to Iola with a cheerful smile.

“Ha! If this is what you call a bad reputation, you don’t know the half of it. Medleidge’s reputation as money demons is far worse than this.”

“What a sinful life. It seems you carry the burdens of your family’s legacy,” Iola replied. “But why are they running? What’s scaring them so much?”

Iola watched the crowd fleeing down the stairs, still casting fearful glances back at the inn.

At least ten adults had run, and if you added the children and elderly, it was closer to twenty.

They fumbled clumsily, their fear outweighing their coordination. Yet, they couldn’t stop glancing back, as if guilt-stricken.

By now, Viretta’s sharp instincts had pieced it all together.

Pathetically unskilled as bandits, yet filled with resentment and terror toward Medleidge.

And underneath it all—guilt.

There was only one explanation for people like this.

“They’re debtors.”

They were debtors who owed money to Medleidge.

People who had fled because they couldn’t repay their debts.

“Even a mining company does this kind of thing?” Iola asked.

"My father is famous under the name Medleidge as a money demon. He never misses an opportunity to make a profit."

Although moneylending was supposed to be tightly regulated, the Medleidge Trading Company operated as a de facto lender under the guise of providing "charitable support" to struggling associates.

While their primary focus was minerals, moneylending was also a significant pillar of their operations.

The bandits, now scattering in disarray, were undoubtedly debtors who owed a substantial amount to Medleidge.

This town was filled with refugees and peddlers displaced after the mines in the Root Mountains collapsed.

They had borrowed money to start businesses near the mining area, but the appearance of the dragon had caused the region’s collapse, leaving them with no way to repay their debts.

Whatever their circumstances, their debt only grew larger with each passing day. Now, they had resorted to running an eerie inn and committing robberies just to survive.

"Their debts... might actually be smaller than we think."

Judging by their speech and posture, they didn’t seem like people who had ever handled large sums of money.

At most, they were bakers or peddlers who operated large carts.

For debts of that scale, they might have hoped to pay them off over five or ten years, had the mines remained intact.

But with no way to predict when the dragon might disappear, they had likely lost their homes and shops, forced to flee debt collectors while scraping by however they could.

By now, the last of the bandits had fled down the stairs and scattered some distance from the inn.

Viretta made up her mind and stepped away from the window.

"Alright. Iola, capture them."

"Understood."

The moment the command was given, Iola leaped from the second-floor window toward the ground below.

He showed no hesitation, carrying only his sword sheath instead of drawing his blade.

Up until now, Iola had focused entirely on protecting Viretta and Ranken, but now he shifted to offense in an instant.

Viretta thought Iola was both a perfect warrior and an exceptionally gentle person.

Unlike Moslin, Iola didn’t exude aggression.

If necessary, he could cut down anyone, but it always took him time to decide if such action was truly needed.

Even earlier, he could have cut down five men with ease, but he let them run.

And yet, the moment Viretta framed her request as a favor, he leaped without hesitation.

He landed easily on the raised ground he summoned with magic, his natural physical prowess blending seamlessly with his spellcasting.

"H-he jumped!"

"What the hell? Is he a wizard?!"

The debtors, cowed by Iola’s overwhelming presence, froze mid-run.

Leaping from a second-story window and raising the ground without chanting was a feat only a skilled magician could perform.

Despair spread across their faces as one of the debtors gritted his teeth, clenched his weapon, and closed his eyes.

"Everyone, I’ll cover the rear—run!"

"No, no! I can’t let this happen. I don’t want to lose anyone else!"

"Mekkely!"

"Go! It’s time I repaid Old Roto for his kindness! I’ll hold him off. Take care of my wife and child!"

"Honey! No!"

"No, I’ll stay behind! I’m already over sixty. You young ones have your whole lives ahead of you!"

"Don’t be ridiculous, old man! Who’ll take care of your grandson if you die?!"

"Then I’ll… I’ll stay with Mekkely!"

A burly man volunteering to stay behind.

A woman clutching a child, crying desperately.

An elderly man offering himself as a sacrifice.

And a scruffy-looking middle-aged man trying to stop him.

Even as they faced a former mercenary in what seemed like certain death, the debtors’ bonds remained unbroken.

It was an emotional human drama unfolding right before their eyes.

"Why are we always the villains?"

"Being born as the child of Medleidge and Jin means we were rotten from the start."

Leaning against the window, Viretta gazed down at them wistfully.