Chapter 251: Debt with Interest

After a brutal massacre, the tavern was now eerily silent. All the thugs and scoundrels had been burned clean out of existence, leaving no trace behind. The place was empty, as if no soul had ever stepped foot there.

Having harvested a hefty sum of Penalty Points, Jon turned and made his way toward the manor mentioned by the thugs. It was the residence of Hansel and Gretel.

Inside a dark bedroom, a crack of thunder echoed. Hansel jolted awake, sweat clinging to his body. His gaze darted to the open window, the curtains swaying with the storm's gusts. With a curse, he lit a candle, slipped into his slippers, and went to close it.

But the moment he turned around, he froze.

A shadowed figure sat at the edge of his bed.

"Who are you?" Hansel asked, forcing calm into his voice, though his chest tightened with dread.

From a poor street rat to the town's wealthiest tyrant, Hansel had done everything to climb the ranks. He feared this kind of moment, retribution, and all his ill-gotten wealth being stripped away.

But he had seen assassins before. Most could be bribed—double the fee and they'd switch targets. Unfortunately for him, this wasn't one of those.

"I'm here to collect a debt," Jon said coolly.

Hansel relaxed slightly. Debt? That he could handle.

"How much? I'll pay double. Just take it and leave."

"No need to rush," Jon replied with a slight grin. "Ever heard of the name Griselda?"

Hansel's face darkened. "That old witch who tried to eat us? She escaped from the Iron Tower too, didn't she?"

He had been anxious ever since he heard of the prison break, especially about the fall of Snow White and King Kirk under the hands of the Ghost Knight.

"Cannibal witch? Come on," Jon scoffed. "Do you really believe your own lies?"

"W-what do you want, then?!"

Jon snapped his fingers. "The gold and jewels you stole. Your estate, your fortunes, barely enough to settle the principal."

Hansel scowled. He knew this was nonsense. There was no way those old treasures matched his current wealth.

"But with interest..."

Jon's voice turned cold. "Not even your soul would cover it."

Hansel stumbled backward. "You lunatic! Guuuuuuuuuards! Kill him!"

However, there was no response.

"What did you do?!"

"Nothing much. Just made them vanish," Jon replied nonchalantly.

Hansel's hand trembled. His candle fell and snuffed out, plunging the room into darkness.

"Please! I'll give you everything! The house, the money, just let me live!"

Jon sighed. "If only you had started with that attitude. Might've spared you."

At that moment, light footsteps echoed outside. The door creaked open.

A sleepy-eyed woman in a thin nightgown stepped in. She was in her mid-thirties, modestly attractive.

"Hansel, what's going on?" she asked, then caught sight of Jon. Startled, she raised her arms instinctively. "Who... who is he?!"

Hansel's eyes lit up. "Right! This is my sister, Gretel. I'll give her to you. Just let me live!"

"Hansel! What are you saying?!" she shrieked.

Jon frowned. "Are you insulting me?"

"What?"

"Do I look that desperate for women?"

Hansel stuttered, panicking.

Jon stood. Hellfire roared to life in his palm. "Your wealth and this mansion repay the debt. But your souls... they cover the interest."

Outside the estate, corpses of the guards hired to protect the siblings littered the ground. Inside, faint firelight flickered, but it wasn't from candles or hearths.

It was from the burning of Hansel and Gretel themselves.

***

The next morning, Jon held a document transferring the estate into his name, signed under the influence of Soul Bind, just before Hansel died. He quickly sold it to a local merchant and walked away with a sizable fortune.

Every coin was handed to Grimhilde to continue building the village. With funding secured, Jon was free to resume his journey.

After traveling for days, he crossed into a new kingdom: Lowey. Ironically, it was the same kingdom he'd inadvertently saved.

He arrived at the royal capital, planning to settle temporarily. He needed to find the mysterious black stone dealer who had sold the cursed item. But for now, unfamiliar with the area, he would stay low.

Just as he stepped onto the capital's main street, a group of armored patrolmen moved in to block his path.

"Ahem, gentlemen, what brings you here?" Jon asked, narrowing his eyes at the armored patrol guards.

The soldiers exchanged puzzled glances before one of them cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Are you that famous Ghost Knight?"

Jon raised an eyebrow. So, his reputation had reached even this kingdom. "What do you want with me?"

Before the man could answer, another soldier suddenly shouted excitedly, "I'm your biggest admirer!"

Jon blinked, momentarily thrown off. He wasn't used to meeting fan, his fame was usually built on fear, not admiration.

Just then, a second soldier pulled the excited one aside and scolded him. "We're here on duty. Step aside!"

Turning back to Jon with a more formal expression, he said with a respectful tone, "Sir Knight, ever since you entered our city, His Majesty the King has taken notice."

Jon's brow furrowed. "So... you're spying on me?"

"No, no! You misunderstand! His Majesty bears you no ill will. He simply sent us to deliver this."

The soldier handed Jon a white envelope, ornate and regal. Inside was an invitation to a royal ball.

"A ball?" Jon murmured.

The soldier explained, "The royal ball will take place the day after tomorrow. Most guests receive gold invitations. Yours, however, is white. Only you and Duke William have one."

"What's the difference?" Jon asked.

"Sir," the soldier began, "this ball is not just a celebration. It's also an occasion for Her Highness to select a potential suitor. The white invitations are for those under consideration."

Jon blinked. "You mean the King wants me to marry his daughter?"

"Precisely. And Her Highness is the most beautiful woman in all of Rowe, rivaling even the former Snow Queen in beauty."

Jon's expression soured immediately. "Like the Snow Queen? That woman was a walking horror show."

The soldier winced, realizing his mistake. Everyone knew the Ghost Knight had personally executed the Snow Queen. Comparing the princess to her wasn't the brightest move.

"Ahem! What I meant was, the Princess is truly beautiful. Please, you must attend."

Jon grinned. "A rich, beautiful woman for free? Only an idiot would say no."

The soldier chuckled nervously. "But you do have competition. Duke William is a legendary warrior and known dragon slayer."

"Is that so?" Jon said with a smirk. "Do tell me, what's the catch to marrying this princess? Any downsides? Rules?"

"Well, upon marrying the Princess, you must swear allegiance to the kingdom, follow court etiquette, and be ready to fight on behalf of the Crown."

"Hold on." Jon raised a hand. "You're telling me I'd have to give up my freedom to become some royal attack soldier?"

"Well, in exchange, you'd gain enormous wealth, titles, and the most beautiful wife in the kingdom. With your strength, serving the Crown wouldn't be dangerous."

Jon shoved the white envelope back at the soldier. "Nah. Give me a gold one instead."

The soldier looked stunned. "Uh... that's not really how this works. The white invitation only gives you the right to be considered. You can always decline later."

Jon tucked the envelope into his coat. "In that case, I'll hold onto it."

He turned and walked off, clearly uninterested in playing the game.

As he walked, a familiar tale crossed his mind, the story of a brave hero who rescued a princess from a dragon, earning her hand in marriage. But there was another version too: one where the King used his daughter as bait to lure a capable warrior into royal servitude.

Looking at the current situation, it was obvious which version this felt like.

The King wasn't looking for a son-in-law; he was looking for a weapon.

And Jon had no interest in being shackled to any kingdom, no matter how pretty the bait.

Let Duke William have her.

Jon had other plans.

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