A New Company "shall I do it"

As Sonya walked through the dimly lit corridors toward her chambers, her body still ached from the grueling training inside the Void Room. Forty-eight years of relentless combat—dying, reviving, and dying again—had sharpened her like a blade, honed her instincts, and carved away any weakness that once held her back. She clenched her fists, her aura subtly flaring before she controlled it.

But her mind wasn't just on her newfound strength.

That document in Austin's room.

It had been just a glimpse—a thick, aged parchment sealed with an insignia she didn't recognize. He had kept it too carefully, too deliberately. What was so crucial that even someone like Austin Ravenclaw guarded it like a lifeline?

Her jaw tightened. Secrets. More secrets. Always secrets.

She exhaled sharply, her footsteps slowing as she reached her door.

"You cannot kill me, Austin Ravenclaw," she thought, her blue eyes flashing with an edge of cold determination. "Because now, I'm strong. You won't get what you want anymore."

He had trained her, molded her, thinking she would be another pawn in his game. But he had miscalculated.

I will try to kill you at the Black Forest Festival.

Her lips curled into a smirk. " Just you wait."

Austin Ravenclaw.

That man. He had trained her, broken her, and reforged her into something stronger than she had ever been before. But that didn't mean she had to bow her head to him. He was a man of immense power, feared even by her imperial family, but power alone did not make one untouchable.

He had weaknesses. He had things he relied upon.

And Sonya would tear them apart.

She strode to the large mirror in her room, gazing at her reflection. The girl who had first walked into his office, desperate and unsure, no longer existed. In her place stood a woman whose eyes burned with cold resolve. Her fingers traced the faint scars that remained from the Void Room—reminders of her countless deaths and rebirths.

Her grip tightened into a fist.

Austin had a stable income. A network. Connections. Influence.

But what would happen if that stability collapsed?

A slow smirk played on her lips. She would cripple it.

He played games in the shadows, dealing with forces that even the empire hesitated to touch. Fine. Let him play. She would make sure that game turned into his downfall.

She had twenty-five days before the Black Forest Festival.

Twenty-five days to set things in motion.

Allies. She needed allies.

Sonya knew her worth. She was an imperial princess—not just a noble, but royalty. Her blood carried weight, and there were plenty of people who would gladly align themselves with her cause. Some would do so out of genuine support, others for the political benefits. It didn't matter. She would use them all.

If she moved carefully, whispered the right words in the right ears, Austin's network would begin to crumble. His trade routes, his hidden dealings, his influence with powerful figures—she would put pressure on all of it.

Some merchants despised Austin Ravenclaw. Some nobles feared him. She needed to find them.

Deep Within the Sewers – The Meeting of Shadows

Beneath the glittering capital, where filth and decay ruled, a group of cloaked figures gathered in a damp underground chamber. The flickering torchlight barely reached the moss-covered walls, casting long, eerie shadows. The air was thick with the stench of rot, mingled with the faint metallic scent of blood.

At the center of the chamber stood Selen, clad in a dark, form-fitting robe with golden embroidery, the insignia of the Cult of Somara—an ancient group devoted to chaos and destruction. Her piercing red eyes scanned the room, her presence demanding silence.

Before her, kneeling in reverence, were assassins, rogue mages, and cultists—all sworn to the cause of unleashing terror upon the empire.

She folded her arms, her expression unreadable."The Black Forest Festival approaches." Her voice was smooth yet sharp, like a dagger sliding across silk. "An opportunity like this… we cannot waste."

A bald man with jagged scars across his face stepped forward. His name was Orik, a war criminal turned cultist."My lady, what do you command?" His raspy voice echoed in the chamber.

Selen's lips curled into a smirk. "The city will celebrate, the nobles will drink, the people will laugh." She leaned forward, whispering like a serpent. "And then, we will turn their joy into horror."

Orik's eyes gleamed with excitement.

Selen turned toward the darkest corner of the room, where a massive, hunched figure was chained—his breathing heavy, feral. The Gunther.

A monster in human form.

The empire had imprisoned him in the dungeons for years, locked away because his very existence was a threat. An ancient experiment. A failed warrior. A beast given human shape, yet with no soul.

Selen stepped closer, her fingers tracing the heavy chains wrapped around his limbs. She whispered words in an old tongue, and with a crackling snap, the restraints shattered.

Gunther rose, his glowing yellow eyes burning through the darkness. A beast unleashed. A nightmare given form.

Selen turned back to her followers. "Unleash him upon the festival. Let the streets run red."

The cultists bowed, murmuring prayers to Somara, the God of Madness and Ruin.

But Selen was not done. Gunther alone would not be enough.

"Summon the others. The hidden ones. The heretics. The outcasts." Her eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure. "We will work with the traitors inside the noble families. We will twist the festival into a graveyard."

Orik grinned, baring his rotten teeth. "And what of the Ravenclaw boy?"

Selen's smile faded slightly.

Austin Ravenclaw.

He was dangerous. Too dangerous.

But Selen was no fool. "We won't engage him head-on." Her voice was measured. "Instead, we will use the chaos to weaken him. The festival is the first step. His empire of shadows will crumble piece by piece."

A wicked grin spread across her face. "Let the Black Forest Festival be remembered not for joy… but for screams."

The cultists cheered in twisted reverence.

The hunt had begun.

Sonya's Calculated Move – Weaving the Threads of Betrayal

As Sunday morning arrived, Sonya sat in her lavish chamber, lost in thought. The golden rays of the sun seeped through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the ornate furniture and velvet drapes.

But her mind was cold. Calculating. Ruthless.

She tapped her fingers on the polished mahogany table, her mind racing.

"If I want to destroy Austin Ravenclaw, I need to weaken his power first."

His influence over business and the underworld was overwhelming. Merchants feared him. Smugglers worked for him. Information flowed through his hands like a river. No one dared to make a move against him, not openly.

But…

"There are those who hate him."

She smirked. "I just need to use them properly."

Her first thought was House Angar.

An old, powerful noble family. They had clashed with the Ravenclaws for generations. But the problem was—House Angar was far more dangerous than Austin himself.

If she sought an alliance with them, she might end up being just another pawn in their schemes. They were patient, cunning, and had a history of devouring their so-called "allies" once they were no longer useful.

"No, I can't start with them."

She needed someone else.

Someone who hated the Ravenclaws, but someone who was weaker than her. Someone she could control.

Her eyes gleamed with realization.

"The lesser merchant families."

Yes. There were plenty of merchants who suffered under Austin's economic chokehold. They despised him, but they couldn't do anything. If she approached them, gave them an alternative, and promised them protection under the Imperial Banner…

They would flock to her.

They would fund her.

And when the time came—she could use them against Ravenclaw.

"But I have to be careful."

Her reputation alone wouldn't be enough. She needed someone charismatic, someone familiar with the market, someone who could convince merchants to turn their backs on Austin without fearing retaliation.

She thought for a moment, then smirked.

"I think I know just the person."

Sonya stood up and summoned her maid.

"Prepare my carriage. We are going to meet an old friend."

As she walked toward the door, a single thought echoed in her mind.

"Austin, you may have trained me for 50 years inside that void… but you also made me smarter. Now, it's my turn to make my move."

The pieces on the board were shifting.

The Black Forest Festival would be her stage.

And Austin Ravenclaw would soon realize—he was not the only player in this game.

Sonya's carriage arrived at the Merchant Hall of Julius, a grand marble building that stood as a beacon of trade and commerce. The wealthiest merchants of the city gathered here, dressed in silk robes, adorned with gold jewelry, and carrying the weight of their fortunes in their confident strides.

As she stepped inside, all eyes turned to her.

She was no ordinary noblewoman—she was an Imperial Princess. A woman who could change their fate with a single word.

A well-dressed merchant, his stomach round from years of indulgence, greeted her first.

"Your Highness, to what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Sonya smiled. "A business opportunity," she said, walking past them and taking a seat at the head of the meeting table.

The Merchant Lords of Julius sat before her, intrigued but wary.

They all feared one name.

Austin Ravenclaw.

He controlled the market. The underworld. The information.

His biggest monopoly?

Beauty products.

Elixirs. Skin creams. Magical cosmetics.

He sold them at three times the actual price, knowing that nobles, aristocrats, and even royalty would pay anything to maintain their youth and beauty.

And no matter how much these merchants tried to compete, no one could replicate Ravenclaw's products.

Their alchemists had tried to copy his formulas.

They failed.

His products were simply superior.

One merchant spoke up hesitantly.

"Princess Sonya, even if we join forces… we cannot compete with Ravenclaw. His products are too high-quality. The nobles trust him. We might undercut his prices, but we cannot cripple him in any way."

The others nodded in agreement.

Sonya tapped her fingers on the table.

"Fools."

They were too afraid to take risks.

She needed to change their mindset.

She leaned forward, her voice smooth and persuasive.

"Gentlemen, I'm not telling you to compete with Ravenclaw."

They looked confused.

"I'm telling you to overcome him."

Silence.

One merchant scoffed. "And how do you expect us to do that, Your Highness?".The Merchant Lords of Julius, some of the wealthiest men in the empire, looked at her with suspicion and intrigue.

She folded her hands together, her gaze unwavering.

"If I get you the formula for Ravenclaw's beauty products… then what?"

The room fell into dead silence.

A few merchants visibly stiffened. Some exchanged nervous glances, while others tried to mask their greed behind skeptical expressions.

The plump merchant, who always acted as their spokesperson, cleared his throat.

"…Then, Your Highness, we would have the power to surpass him."

Sonya smirked. "Surpassing is not enough. I want to know if you can cripple him."

A younger merchant, clearly inexperienced, scoffed. "Princess, even with the formula, we cannot destroy Ravenclaw's influence."

"Why not?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Because it's not just about the products. He has a vast network—in the underworld, the noble circles, and even in the imperial court. People trust his brand. Even if we sell the same thing, they will hesitate to abandon Ravenclaw."

The others nodded in agreement.

Sonya tapped her fingers against the table, pretending to be deep in thought.

"Then we don't just sell the same thing."

The merchants leaned forward.

"We sell something better."

Silence.

One of the older merchants stroked his beard. "Better? You just said you'd bring us his formula."

"I did." She nodded. "But I can improve it."

Their eyes widened.

"You…?"

Sonya smirked. "You think Ravenclaw is the only one with secret alchemists?"

Now, she had them hooked.

The plump merchant, now sweating, licked his lips. "So you're saying, if we obtain the formula, you will make it superior?"

"Not just superior," she said, leaning forward. "We will make it irresistible. A product so good that even Ravenclaw himself will have no choice but to acknowledge it."

They hesitated.

One merchant finally asked, "And in return?"

Sonya smiled.

"Thirty percent of all profits."

Their faces contorted in shock.

"Thirty?! That's—"

She held up a hand, silencing them.

"This is your only chance to break free from Ravenclaw's grip. If you refuse, you can continue living under his shadow for the next century. But if you accept… You will have the chance to replace him."

The temptation was too much.

One by one, they fell silent, contemplating her words.

The plump merchant finally sighed.

"…We accept."

Sonya's smile widened.

Phase One of her plan was complete.

Now, she only needed to execute the next step.

As she left the merchant hall, she thought to herself—

"Austin Ravenclaw, your empire is about to crumble."

As Sonya's footsteps faded down the grand hallway, the heavy doors of the Merchant Lords' chamber slowly shut, leaving behind a tense atmosphere. The moment she was out of sight, the merchants, who had just accepted her deal, finally let out their contained breaths.

The plump merchant, Gerald Von Hesser, wiped the sweat from his brow. His chair creaked loudly as he leaned back, his thick fingers tapping against the polished wooden table.

"…This is madness."

The younger merchant, Edwin Larks, scoffed. "Madness? This is a golden opportunity! We've all been waiting for a chance to cut Ravenclaw's throat in the market. This is it."

Gerald shook his head. "You don't get it, boy." He turned to the rest of the gathered merchants. "Does no one else find it strange that an Imperial Princess—someone of her stature—wants to go out of her way just to destroy Austin Ravenclaw's business?"

A long silence followed.

Edwin hesitated. "Maybe she just—"

"No," another merchant, Horace Delven, interrupted. He was an aged man, his long silver beard giving him the look of a seasoned veteran in the business world. "This isn't just about money."

He leaned forward, his sharp eyes glinting.

"This is personal."

The room went still.

Gerald grunted. "That's what I'm saying. If she was just looking to profit, she could have invested anywhere else. But she came here, to us, with a direct plan to ruin him. And the way she spoke… she's not just looking for a business victory. She's looking for something bigger."

Edwin frowned, crossing his arms. "You mean she has some grudge against him?"

Horace nodded. "And that means we need to tread carefully. If we help her and she fails, we'll be in Ravenclaw's crosshairs."

The merchants visibly stiffened at that realization.

Everyone knew Austin Ravenclaw wasn't just a merchant. His influence spread far beyond business—he controlled parts of the underground, had high-ranking nobles in his pocket, and was ruthless against competitors.

Going against him was like challenging a sleeping beast—one wrong move, and he would devour them all.

Gerald sighed, rubbing his temple. "Do we even know how she plans to get the formula?"

Edwin smirked. "She's an Imperial Princess. If she wants something, she'll get it."

Horace narrowed his eyes. "And that's exactly why this is dangerous. If she's willing to go to this extent, then she must truly despise him."

Gerald exhaled loudly. "Then the question is… do we really want to get caught up in this?"

Another silence followed.

Edwin, still eager, shrugged. "We've already agreed. If she delivers the formula, we can't back out now."

Horace sighed. "Then let's at least be smart about it. We should prepare for all outcomes. If she succeeds, we profit. If she fails, we cut ties immediately and blame everything on her."

Gerald smirked. "I like the way you think, old man."

The merchants slowly nodded in agreement, the tension in the room slightly easing.

But deep inside, they all knew one thing—

No matter what happened next, Austin Ravenclaw wouldn't sit quietly once he caught wind of Sonya's schemes.

Sonya's Next Move – Seeking the Alchemist

Sitting inside her lavish carriage, Sonya rested her chin on her gloved hand, her golden eyes reflecting the passing city streets. The clattering of hooves against the cobblestone filled the air as she leaned back against the plush velvet seat, deep in thought.

The merchants had agreed. Step one was done.

Now, she needed someone who could replicate or even improve the formula for Ravenclaw's beauty products. Without it, all the deals she had made would crumble like dust.

Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest.

She needed an alchemist.

But not just any alchemist—someone with the skill to crack Ravenclaw's secret formula and the discretion to keep their mouth shut. If Ravenclaw got wind of this, he would crush her before she could even begin.

She pulled out a small notebook, flipping through the names she had compiled over the years—individuals with enough knowledge to be useful, yet desperate enough to accept risky deals.

Her eyes landed on a single name.

"Lucien Graves."

A smirk crept onto her lips.

He was once one of the best alchemists in the empire, renowned for his breakthroughs in potions and herbal synthesis. But now? A disgraced outcast, living in exile after an incident with the Imperial Academy.

The official story was that he had been caught experimenting with forbidden substances. But whispers in the underground said something different—that Ravenclaw had him silenced because his research had become too dangerous.

If there was anyone who had a reason to work against Ravenclaw, it was him.

Sonya pulled back the carriage curtain, glancing outside.

"Driver."

The coachman, startled, looked back. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Change course. We're going to The Hollow District."

The coachman hesitated. "B-But, Your Highness… that area is…"

Sonya's eyes flashed coldly. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

"N-No, of course not!" He quickly turned the reins, and the carriage veered into a narrower, darker street, leaving behind the polished grandeur of the noble district.

The Hollow District – A Den of Shadows

As Sonya stepped out of the carriage, she felt the change in atmosphere immediately.

The Hollow District wasn't just a slum—it was a den of outcasts, criminals, and desperate souls. Unlike the rest of the capital, which was adorned with grand palaces and marble streets, this place reeked of rot and secrecy.

Shady figures lurked in alleyways, their eyes watching her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Children, barefoot and covered in dirt, ran past her, while women with faded beauty leaned against tavern walls, calling out to drunken men.

Her black cloak concealed most of her identity, but her aura was impossible to hide. Even here, where power was currency, she stood out.

She reached a small, abandoned-looking shop, its wooden sign barely legible.

"Lucien's Remedies – Closed."

Sonya smirked. As if a locked door could stop her.

She knocked once. Twice. No answer.

Her patience wearing thin, she raised her hand, and with a simple spell, the lock clicked open. She pushed the door, stepping inside the dusty, dimly lit shop.

Shelves lined with bottles of strange-colored liquids and dried herbs covered the walls. The air was thick with the scent of burnt sage and old parchment.

And there, hunched over a cluttered workbench, was Lucien Graves.

His once-pristine white lab coat was now stained with burn marks and ink. His long, graying hair was tied in a loose, messy bun, and his tired green eyes flicked toward her lazily.

"You're either very brave or very stupid to come here unannounced," he muttered, swirling a deep blue liquid in a flask.

Sonya smiled.

"I've been called worse," she said, stepping closer. "I have a proposition for you."

Lucien sighed. "I don't work for nobles anymore. Find some other poor bastard to waste your money on."

Sonya chuckled. "That's exactly why I came to you. You're the only one who can do what I need."

Lucien didn't stop his work but raised an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, do you need?"

She leaned in, lowering her voice.

"I want Ravenclaw's formula. And I need you to recreate it."

Lucien froze. The flask in his hand cracked slightly.

For the first time, he looked directly at her, his gaze sharp.

"…So, you're declaring war against him?"

Sonya smirked.

"Not war. Just business."

Lucien let out a dry laugh, setting the flask down.

"Business, huh?" He wiped his hands on a rag and turned fully toward her. "You know… people who go against Austin Ravenclaw don't last long."

Sonya's golden eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"That's only true if they fail."

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Then, Lucien smiled.

"…Alright, Princess. You've got my attention."

Sitting inside her lavish carriage, Sonya rested her chin on her gloved hand, her golden eyes reflecting the passing city streets. The clattering of hooves against the cobblestone filled the air as she leaned back against the plush velvet seat, deep in thought.

The merchants had agreed. Step one was done.

Now, she needed someone who could replicate or even improve the formula for Ravenclaw's beauty products. Without it, all the deals she had made would crumble like dust.

Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest.

She needed an alchemist.

But not just any alchemist—someone with the skill to crack Ravenclaw's secret formula and the discretion to keep their mouth shut. If Ravenclaw got wind of this, he would crush her before she could even begin.

She pulled out a small notebook, flipping through the names she had compiled over the years—individuals with enough knowledge to be useful, yet desperate enough to accept risky deals.

Her eyes landed on a single name.

"Lucien Graves."

A smirk crept onto her lips.

He was once one of the best alchemists in the empire, renowned for his breakthroughs in potions and herbal synthesis. But now? A disgraced outcast, living in exile after an incident with the Imperial Academy.

The official story was that he had been caught experimenting with forbidden substances. But whispers in the underground said something different—that Ravenclaw had him silenced because his research had become too dangerous.

If there was anyone who had a reason to work against Ravenclaw, it was him.

Sonya pulled back the carriage curtain, glancing outside.

"Driver."

The coachman, startled, looked back. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Change course. We're going to The Hollow District."

The coachman hesitated. "B-But, Your Highness… that area is…"

Sonya's eyes flashed coldly. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

"N-No, of course not!" He quickly turned the reins, and the carriage veered into a narrower, darker street, leaving behind the polished grandeur of the noble district.

The Hollow District – A Den of Shadows

As Sonya stepped out of the carriage, she felt the change in atmosphere immediately.

The Hollow District wasn't just a slum—it was a den of outcasts, criminals, and desperate souls. Unlike the rest of the capital, which was adorned with grand palaces and marble streets, this place reeked of rot and secrecy.

Shady figures lurked in alleyways, their eyes watching her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Children, barefoot and covered in dirt, ran past her, while women with faded beauty leaned against tavern walls, calling out to drunken men.

Her black cloak concealed most of her identity, but her aura was impossible to hide. Even here, where power was currency, she stood out.

She reached a small, abandoned-looking shop, its wooden sign barely legible.

"Lucien's Remedies – Closed."

Sonya smirked. As if a locked door could stop her.

She knocked once. Twice. No answer.

Her patience wearing thin, she raised her hand, and with a simple spell, the lock clicked open. She pushed the door, stepping inside the dusty, dimly lit shop.

Shelves lined with bottles of strange-colored liquids and dried herbs covered the walls. The air was thick with the scent of burnt sage and old parchment.

And there, hunched over a cluttered workbench, was Lucien Graves.

His once-pristine white lab coat was now stained with burn marks and ink. His long, graying hair was tied in a loose, messy bun, and his tired green eyes flicked toward her lazily.

"You're either very brave or very stupid to come here unannounced," he muttered, swirling a deep blue liquid in a flask.

Sonya smiled.

"I've been called worse," she said, stepping closer. "I have a proposition for you."

Lucien sighed. "I don't work for nobles anymore. Find some other poor bastard to waste your money on."

Sonya chuckled. "That's exactly why I came to you. You're the only one who can do what I need."

Lucien didn't stop his work but raised an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, do you need?"

She leaned in, lowering her voice.

"I want Ravenclaw's formula. And I need you to recreate it."

Lucien froze. The flask in his hand cracked slightly.

For the first time, he looked directly at her, his gaze sharp.

"…So, you're declaring war against him?"

Sonya smirked.

"Not war. Just business."

Lucien let out a dry laugh, setting the flask down.

"Business, huh?" He wiped his hands on a rag and turned fully toward her. "You know… people who go against Austin Ravenclaw don't last long."

Sonya's golden eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"That's only true if they fail."

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Then, Lucien smiled.

"…Alright, Princess. You've got my attention."

Lucien leaned against his workbench, arms crossed, studying Sonya with intrigue. "And how, exactly, do you plan on getting your hands on Ravenclaw's formula?"

Sonya's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I have my ways."

Lucien let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course you do." He picked up a small flask, swirling its contents absentmindedly. "You nobles always do."

But Sonya wasn't just any noble.

She had long known that brute force wouldn't be enough to crack Ravenclaw's empire. The man had layers of defenses, both physical and political. His network spanned beyond merchants and nobles—he had spies, assassins, and alchemists guarding his secrets.

If she wanted the formula, she needed someone who specialized in stealing the unstealable.

Someone who could break into places no one else could.

Someone like the Bunny.

Sonya leaned back in her carriage, her fingers tapping against the window frame as she stared out at the bustling streets. The Bunny's Lair was her next destination—if she wanted Ravenclaw's formula, she needed someone capable of stealing it.

The merchants she met earlier had made one thing clear: Ravenclaw's products were untouchable. Their alchemists had tried to mimic the formula and failed. Even the empire's best spies couldn't break into his laboratories.

That meant there were only two ways to get it:

Force Ravenclaw to give it up. Impossible. The man was too powerful, his influence stretching from merchants to nobles.

Steal it without him knowing.

For that, she needed a master thief.

She needed the Bunny.

The Bunny's Lair – The Den of Thieves

The entrance to the Bunny's Lair was disguised as a run-down tailor shop in the slums. A place where thieves, spies, and mercenaries gathered under the same banner.

Sonya stepped inside.

An old man sat behind the counter, polishing his glasses. He barely glanced at her before nodding toward the back.

He knew who she was.

Without hesitation, she pushed through the curtain and descended into the tunnels beneath the city.

The air was thick with secrecy—torches flickered against cold stone walls, casting long shadows as she walked deeper into the underground network.

Smugglers whispered in dark corners, merchants peddled forbidden artifacts, and assassins sharpened their daggers under the dim candlelight.

No guards. No law.

Just power and information.

At the heart of it all sat the Bunny.

The Man Behind the Mask

The Bunny was nothing like his name suggested.

He wasn't small or weak. He wasn't someone who hid in the shadows like a rat.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself like a king. His dark coat draped over his chair, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied her.

A single black tattoo ran from the side of his neck down to his collarbone—a rabbit with crimson eyes.

Sonya stopped a few feet from him, ignoring the eyes of his men watching her every move.

"Princess," Bunny said, resting his chin on his fist. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Sonya smirked. "You know who I am?"

Bunny chuckled. "Everyone in this room knows who you are." His eyes gleamed. "The real question is—do you know who I am?"

Sonya's smirk didn't falter. "You're the Bunny. The one who can steal anything."

His lips curled into a smile. "Flattering."

She stepped forward, placing a small velvet pouch on the table. It landed with a soft clink, and Bunny's fingers casually untied the strings, revealing a rare blue diamond inside.

"I need a job done," Sonya said.

Bunny twirled the diamond between his fingers. "And what is it that you desire, Princess?"

She leaned in.

"I need Ravenclaw's secret formula."

The room went silent.

For the first time, Bunny's smirk faded. His golden eyes darkened.

Sonya noticed the shift but didn't back down.

"You can steal anything, right?" she challenged.

Bunny let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair. He twirled the diamond once more before setting it down.

"Princess," he murmured. "Do you have any idea what you're asking for?"

Sonya crossed her arms. "I don't care how difficult it is. Can you do it or not?"

Bunny exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk. "Oh, I can do it." His golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

"The real question is… are you ready for what happens after?"

Sonya's Next Move – The Nobles' Game

As Sonya leaned back in her carriage, she let out a slow breath, staring out at the city streets.

The first phase was complete. She had navigated the merchants, secured allies, and made sure she had the right people in place.

The second phase was equally successful. The Bunny's Lair had taken on her request, setting the wheels in motion for her ultimate goal—undermining Austin Ravenclaw's empire.

But now…

Now, it was time for the third phase—delivering the formula to the nobles.

A Dangerous Bargain – The Nobles' Interest

The aristocrats in the empire were always looking for a way to undermine one another. Ravenclaw's monopoly over luxury goods was something they tolerated because they had no choice.

But if Sonya could offer them an alternative?

If she could create a product line that rivaled his—or at least threatened his dominance—then she could rally them to her side.

The House of Angar, for instance, had long been at odds with Ravenclaw's faction. They had money, influence, and power, but lacked the means to take on his market control.

If she brought them the formula, they'd have a reason to stand behind her.

And if they stood behind her… others would follow.

"Ravenclaw, your empire will crumble. Just watch."

Meanwhile – At Ravenclaw Manor

Deep within the grand halls of Ravenclaw Manor, inside an office lined with rare books and ancient artifacts, Austin Ravenclaw sat behind his mahogany desk, listening.

Across from him, a man in a dark cloak kneeled, head bowed.

"My lord," the man spoke, his voice steady. "The princess came to the Bunny's Lair."

Austin raised an eyebrow, amused. "Did she now?"

"She requested something specific," the man continued. "She wants the formula to your beauty products."

At this, Austin burst into laughter.

His laughter echoed through the grand chamber, causing the servants nearby to shudder. Even the man before him tensed slightly.

"She wants to take my products?" he repeated, still chuckling. "How bold."

The man remained silent, waiting for his response.

Austin leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the wooden surface. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement.

"Fine," he said, waving his hand. "Give it to her."

The cloaked man hesitated. "Are you sure, sire?"

Austin's smirk widened.

"She may mimic it," he said. "But she will never be able to replicate it."

The man frowned slightly. "Why?"

Austin stood, walking over to a nearby cabinet. He pulled out a small, crystal vial, swirling the contents inside. The liquid shimmered, radiating a faint glow.

"Because," he murmured, "the ingredients I use come from the Elven Forests."

His connection to the elves was something no human could replicate. The rare herbs and enchanted extracts required for his products were grown in sacred lands, infused with centuries of magic.

Even if Sonya managed to steal the formula, she would still fail.

Let her play her little game.

In the end, she would realize the futility of it all.

Austin smirked.

"Let her think she's winning."