Baron's Son with -9,999,999 Reputation Point-Chapter 148: Help

Thriska stepped closer, her back straight, though there was a trace of hesitation in her shoulders. She stopped right in front of Lucas and bowed deeply.

"Good morning, Young Master Voss," she said. Her voice was clear, yet there was an awkward note she couldn’t quite hide. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Silvara before returning to the ground.

Lucas observed the female knight. Something about the way Thriska stood today felt different. The Grimhelt knight he knew was usually sharp and vigilant, like a freshly honed blade. But the woman before him now looked more like a teenager who had wandered into a room full of adults by mistake.

Before Lucas could return the greeting, a small blur shot past.

"Lady Black Hair!"

Anya sprinted forward, slipping neatly through the narrow gap between Lucas and Silvara’s legs with the agility of a squirrel. She stopped right in front of Thriska, puffed out her chest, and placed her right hand on her left shoulder, an improvised knightly salute she had learned from who-knew-where.

"Greetings from the Iron Knight, Lady Black Hair!" Anya declared in her shrill, enthusiastic voice.

Thriska blinked. The corners of her lips twitched as she fought back laughter threatening to spill out. She lowered herself onto one knee so she was level with Anya.

"Lady Black Hair?" she said. "So that is the title you have given me, Little One?"

"Not little! Iron Knight!" Anya corrected her seriously.

Thriska let out a small chuckle. "Very well, Iron Knight. It seems you’ve already given many people here their own titles."

Anya wasted no time. Her gaze immediately locked onto the mahogany box Thriska was carrying. It was the same as the one from two days ago, but the scent was different, sweeter, like freshly baked bread mixed with butter and fruit jam.

"About that box..." Anya pointed to the empty one lying near where she had been sitting earlier. "Should I return it now? I do not wish to be mistaken for a box thief."

Thriska shook her head gently as she placed the new box into Anya’s small hands.

"Lady Matruska has instructed that the boxes be collected again each week. But you needn’t trouble yourself with delivering them."

Anya tilted her head. "Then?"

"Lady Matruska herself will come here to retrieve them," Thriska replied.

Anya’s eyes widened completely. She nearly dropped the box she had just received.

"That very tall Lady... is coming here? To this muddy field?"

Thriska flinched slightly at the phrase very tall Lady. She glanced at Lucas, her face paling a little, as if worried he might take offense at the Grimhelt leader being described that way.

This child has some nerve, Thriska thought. But then she remembered how Lady Matruska had laughed while recounting her earlier interaction with Anya.

"Well... it seems she’s taken quite a liking to you," Thriska murmured, recalling Karska’s words from the previous encounter between her and Matruska, Matruska had found Anya’s boldness rather entertaining.

Silvara, who had been quietly listening the entire time, suddenly cleared her throat loudly. The sound cut straight through the relaxed exchange between knight and child.

Thriska immediately stood upright, snapping back into her formal posture.

"Ah, my apologies. Here is the box, Anya."

Anya received it solemnly, as if holding a treasure.

"Thank you! I shall now take my leave. I must continue writing Young Master Voss’s name beautifully so that he does not become an evil person again!"

Without waiting for a response, Anya ran back to her board, sat cross-legged on the ground, and busied herself with her stone.

A brief silence settled over them.

Silvara stepped forward, standing right beside Lucas, though her gaze was fixed squarely on Thriska.

"Thriska," Silvara called.

"Yes, Lady Silvara?"

"I need your help," Silvara said bluntly.

"I truly need it."

Lucas raised an eyebrow slightly but remained silent, choosing to observe.

So this is her plan, he thought. Using connections. He knew Silvara had a strong sense of pride, seeing her ask for help like this showed just how urgent the situation with Silas’s contract really was.

Silvara then explained the issue concisely: the transaction site in Baron Halden’s territory, the unreasonable distance, and the tomatoes that would spoil if transported along normal land routes.

Thriska listened intently, but the longer Silvara spoke, the more uncertain her expression became. When Silvara finished, Thriska let out a long breath.

"Matters of logistics and permission involving outer territories like that... honestly, only Karska can help." Thriska said quietly.

Silvara didn’t back down. She stepped one pace closer, her eyes fixed on Thriska with an intensity she rarely showed.

"Please, Thriska," she said.

"If you don’t help, all the work in this field will be for nothing."

Thriska looked even more conflicted. She looked at Silvara, then at Lucas, then back at Silvara again. A large question surfaced in her mind.

Why is she going this far for Lucian Voss?

Thriska remembered clearly how a few month ago, Silvara often complained about how much she despised that master of hers. But now? She looked like a wife fighting for her family’s future.

"Silvara... you’ve changed," Thriska murmured without realizing it.

"I haven’t changed," Silvara replied quickly, a faint flush appearing on her cheeks.

"I just don’t want to see these tomatoes turn into garbage."

Lucas, standing there, felt the awkwardness in the air. He noticed something interesting: Thriska was the type who found it hard to say no when pressed by someone she considered a close friend. Silvara clearly knew this weakness, and was exploiting it to the fullest.

"Alright, alright," Thriska finally relented.

"I’ll call Karska now. But I can’t promise he’ll agree."

She reached into a small pouch at her waist and pulled out a strange object, a small white stone carved with a blowing channel at its center and a pair of tiny black wings on either side. It looked like a low-grade magical communication device.

Thriska brought the stone to her lips and blew softly. No sound reached human ears, but the small wings fluttered once.

---

Near the black Grimhelt wagon parked beneath a broad, shady tree, Karska was leaning quietly. His eyes were closed, but his ears caught an unusual frequency.

He opened his eyes.

"Thriska? What is it now?" he muttered.

Without wasting time, Karska headed toward the field. His strides were long and steady. Within minutes, he was standing before them.

"Is there a problem?" Karska asked curtly, his eyes immediately settling on Lucas.

Lucas didn’t look intimidated. Instead, he waved casually, like greeting an old neighbor.

"Yo, Karska. How was the water from Loticentra? Useful for your sister?"

Thriska stood frozen, her thoughts tangled. None of this aligned with what she knew. Lucian Voss was supposed to be vile, cruel, reckless, unbearable to stand near. Yet the man before her spoke calmly, listened, even smiled. The image refused to settle into anything familiar.

What unsettled her most was how naturally he greeted Karska. Not cautious. Not guarded. Friendly. As if they were equals. As if there were no history, no reputation clinging to the name Voss. Thriska felt a quiet dissonance grow, something here was deeply, profoundly wrong.

The question made Thriska stiffen. She turned toward Karska, eyes wide.

Karska? You... you told him about our sister’s illness? she thought in disbelief.

She was genuinely shocked. Karska was the kind of man who locked family matters in an iron box and buried it at the bottom of the sea. He rarely spoke of such things even to fellow knights, yet he had told Lucian Voss?

Karska gave his Thriska a small nod, then looked back at Lucas.

"Thank you," Karska said, his tone flat but sincere.

"I met the village Healer yesterday. She said the water has extremely high purity. Yes, it can help slow the organ damage caused by Dark Root."

"Well," Lucas replied lightly,

"at least it buys you some time, right?"

Silvara suddenly cut in with a throat-clearing louder than before. She had no intention of letting the conversation drift into another knight’s family matters while their tomatoes hung in the balance.

"Karska, we have a business problem," Silvara said.

Karska turned to her.

"A business problem?"

Silvara once again explained the issue of Baron Halden’s territory and Silas’s contractual trap. Karska listened without interrupting a single word. His sharp eyes seemed to be assembling a mental map of the territories.

When she finished, Karska remained silent for quite a while. He looked across the vast stretch of tomato plants, then at Lucas, who stood there looking strangely relaxed, as if unburdened by worldly concerns.

At last, Karska exhaled. He was a straightforward man who disliked beating around the bush. He immediately grasped what Silvara wanted and what the situation required.

"So," Karska said, his voice deep and resonant,

"you’re saying the Young Master intends to use teleportation magic to send this harvest directly into Baron Halden’s territory?"

Lucas blinked.

"Teleportation?"

He turned to look at Silvara.