The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess-Chapter 64: Imperial Investigation Corps

Perhaps driven by overwhelming fear, the woman’s crazed expression suddenly cleared. She clawed at her own hair and cried out in anguish, "Please stop! We’re from the Imperial Investigation Corps—go save Miss Sherry Gassina! She’s on the Claudia Road, retreating toward Nightfall Domain, and she’s carrying crucial intelligence about the corruption!"

"What she’s saying is probably true. Their earlier state was a complete mental breakdown," Rosalia said seriously, nodding. She turned to the two women. "For the future of the Empire, speak quickly. I can feel a force inside your minds swelling rapidly."

"We were attacked by a terrifying corrupted creature. Miss Sherry ordered us to withdraw with the wounded, but in Nightfall Domain, we were—"

Just as she was about to mention a key detail, both women’s heads exploded simultaneously. Yellowish-white filth splattered everywhere.

Rosalia flashed in front of Phield, blocking the mess. "They triggered a restriction. The caster forbade them from thinking about or mentioning a certain thing."

"No wonder they were so deranged, acting like fanatics. So they were mentally parasitized," Phield said, frowning deeply. He crossed his fingers and thought for a moment. "The Imperial Investigation Corps is responsible for assessing corruption levels. Logically, no humans should have attacked them."

The spread of corruption concerned the survival of all humanity.

Phield paced back and forth. "It could’ve been a personal vendetta against the Investigation Corps, or a conspiratorial organization. She was about to reveal something, but failed."

"This is seriously irritating. Corruption, heretics, apostates, cults—everything’s turned into a complete mess."

Phield felt disoriented. All factions seemed to be stirring at once.

The western crusade of the heretics was having far-reaching consequences.

Rosalia thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I know nothing about the Empire’s current situation. But this has little to do with us. No matter how bad it gets, can it really be worse than staying buried in piles of corrupted creatures?"

As Phield’s Divine Chosen, Rosalia showed no mercy whatsoever when killing corrupted beings.

"That’s true." Reminded by Rosalia, Phield nodded. "I’m just a minor baron. I can’t meddle in imperial affairs."

"There’s no profit to be gained. All these major factions are nothing but trouble. As long as they don’t provoke me, they have nothing to do with me."

Phield felt a wave of relief. He sheathed The Silver Iris Longsword, shook his wrist, and said, "The Investigation Corps issue needs careful thought. Let’s return to the Grand Winery first."

"I’m glad to see you relax," Rosalia said with a smile, lifting the hem of her dress. "I think my hidden savings are still there."

In her maiden form, Rosalia rose onto her toes, stepped over the spider corpses, and dug out an iron chest from the corner of the cave.

"This is it."

Wow—golden legend!

When the chest was opened, Phield felt nearly blinded by the golden glow. His vision filled with glittering gemstones and coins.

Beautiful jewelry crafted from gold and silver, inlaid with gems of all colors, shone brilliantly even in the dim cave. In addition, the chest was packed with gold, silver, and copper coins—it was obvious she even hoarded copper pieces.

"It’s for you."

Rosalia lowered her head slightly, her voice noticeably softer.

Her jade-like bare feet fidgeted awkwardly, her knees brushing together until they reddened, betraying her nervousness.

"You’re really giving this to me?" In both his past life and this one, no one had ever given him a gift. This was the first time he’d received one from a girl—and from such a beauty at that. Moreover, Rosalia had said this was her private stash, prepared as dowry.

Could it be...

Rosalia’s dress shifted with her form. The upper part, fastened at the neck by a circular ring, revealed a stretch of snow-white skin, rich and creamy in tone, openly displayed before Phield.

She hadn’t been lying earlier—Rosalia’s figure really was excellent.

Her mature form would be even more devastating.

"Of course, Sir Phield. All of this is your wealth now—use it however you like," Rosalia said with a smile. "From now on, you are this lady’s... foot servant."

Panic. Absolute panic. What do you do when a noble lady confesses like this?

Wasn’t this development way too fast? They’d only known each other for a few days—was this already heading toward marriage?

Phield’s face flushed, his head spinning. He subconsciously reached out as if to embrace her. "I suppose I have no choice... I’ll reluctantly be your husband—wait. What did you just say?"

"A foot servant, of course," Rosalia said, covering her mouth elegantly as she giggled. "It’s my first time trying this too, but I believe you’ll do a great job."

"Foot servant... what even is that?" Phield slapped his forehead, cold sweat pouring down.

"Hmph. Obviously someone who takes care of my daily needs, cheers me up, massages my feet to relieve fatigue."

"And during morning and evening greetings, just kiss the back of my foot. As for kissing elsewhere—well, that depends on your performance."

???

A giant question mark slowly appeared in Phield’s mind.

Give me back the cute little-girl version! This perverted big-sister version is terrifying.

He’d thought Rosalia was an M—but looking at this now, she was actually an S?

"Don’t go too far!" Phield rejected her righteously. He rapped his knuckles against Rosalia’s head and snapped, "You’re pushing it. If I don’t smack you today, you’ll forget who’s in charge."

Massaging feet was fine—but it shouldn’t become a formal ritual. I like doing it, but that doesn’t mean I have to!

"Ow." Rosalia rubbed her head and laughed softly. "I was just teasing you, my dear Phield. How could I ever bear to make you my servant?"

You absolutely were not joking.

Phield let out a long sigh, then smiled. "Thank you for your generosity. Keep the jewelry for yourself. I’ll take the coins to develop the territory—and repay you a hundredfold in the future."

"Just treat me well. I like your gentleness and sense of responsibility," Rosalia said happily. "You don’t need to take that joke to heart. Actually... I wanted to be your foot servant."

"Pfft—please, stop talking," Phield was on the verge of losing it. "At least not right now."

You really are an M. I wasn’t wrong.

"By the way, let’s search the area," Phield said, returning to business. "Since they were from the Investigation Corps, there must be equipment nearby."

He was practically broke. The battle at the main manor had cost him a massive amount of arms, and right now, he really wanted to loot someone else’s weapons and gear.