Chapter 148
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 148
Clang, clang!
He blocked one strike, only for another to immediately follow.
The phrase “relentless as a hornet” seemed to have been coined just for Barbara. Far from launching a counterattack, Peter was barely managing to parry her blows.
There was a good reason Ernst had sent her to Oscar. Even among fellow Combat Wolves, her skills were unrivaled.
"Ugh!"
Her downward strike, as heavy and powerful as an axe blow, was terrifying. Barely blocking it, Peter groaned and stumbled backward. In that instant, a sliver of light filtering through a tiny gap in the curtains swept across his face.
Barbara, who had been pressing him without a moment’s respite, suddenly froze.
His eyes gleamed in the darkness. He had close-cropped hair and a bizarre ambiguity that made it impossible to tell if he was a man or a woman. For a fleeting second, she felt a strange sensation, as if the creature before her wasn't even human.
A chilling memory of her friend's voice echoed in her mind.
“You have to recognize him by the feeling he gives off, not from a composite sketch.”
“The feeling?”
“Humans usually judge others by their overall impression, not individual features. He can actually alter that impression by subtly shifting his facial muscles. Even if you talk to him face-to-face, the moment you turn around, you won’t remember what he looked like. So, it's about the feeling, Barbara.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“The feeling of not knowing what on earth he is. That bizarre sensation… even though he has a human face, you can’t help but wonder if he’s actually human.”
“That makes even less sense, Theresia.”
“No. If you ever face him bare-faced, you will know.”
Theresia had been right.
It was rare to encounter someone who made you question their very humanity.
“Peter.”
“...!”
At her definitive call, the bastard’s breath hitched, as if he had truly heard his own name.
Barbara took a step toward him.
“You really were alive,” she growled, raising her sword. “And so close by, at that.”
Peter hastily fled toward the Marquis's bedroom. But he was just a rat in a trap. This was a place she could navigate with her eyes closed.
A dark, grim voice seeped from the depths of Barbara’s chest.
“Today, I will capture you and offer you to the graves of our fallen comrades. There are so many of them… I wonder how many pieces I’ll have to tear you into.”
She advanced on Peter like a vengeful demon. Suppressing her boiling rage with cold reason, Barbara aimed the tip of her blade at the nape of his neck.
A chill ran down Peter's spine. He could feel her absolute resolve to kill him right here, no matter what.
Damn it!
In the blink of an eye, Barbara threw her blade.
Peter rolled across the floor, gnashing his teeth at the useless subordinates still loitering outside. How had her skills not deteriorated in the slightest? He had never intended to fight Barbara one-on-one, but facing her directly, her prowess was beyond imagination. After only a few clashes, Peter knew he stood no chance against her in a duel.
He ran with all his might, resolved to escape through a window if he had to.
Passing through the Marquis's bedroom and the office, Peter reached the reception room. Just outside was the central hall, where Charlotte's party was in full swing. The crowd filling the venue would make an excellent shield.
Just as the melodies drifting from the party licked across his sweat-beaded face—
“...!”
Whoosh!
If he hadn't dodged, he would have lost a shoulder.
Having pursued him through the bathroom and the dressing room, Barbara’s silent assault relentlessly pressured Peter. As her horizontal slash grazed the tip of his nose, she used the opening to shove him away from the door to the hall.
Only a single, obsessive thought remained in her eyes.
You will not escape.
Moving as if driven by that one burning desire, Barbara lunged for his legs the moment she pushed him back. She was aiming for his tendons.
Recognizing the gap in their skills, she was clearly intent on capturing him alive.
Defending against the low strikes, Peter spotted a momentary opening and thrust his blade forward.
“…”
The veteran wolf blocked the blade with her bare hand. Without so much as a blink, Barbara raised her other hand high.
Catching the blade had been a trap. Her real attack was the sword now raised above him.
“Fuck…”
A curse slipped from his lips.
The grim future awaiting him flashed before his eyes.
His vocal cords severed, the tendons in his limbs slashed. He would be locked away somewhere in this room, unable to move or make a sound.
I can't let it end like this. Not after coming this far! Not me!
Just as a blood-boiling scream welled up from deep within him—
Click.
“I don't see the head maid. Where on earth could she be?”
God…
“Barbara!”
…had sent him an angel.
The music from the party, which had felt as distant as a view through a frosted window, suddenly grew clear and loud. The blade that had been about to slice his vocal cords froze just beneath his chin. Seizing the opportunity, Peter grabbed her sword with his bare hand.
“Oh dear. The head maid was here.”
As Charlotte opened one of the tall double doors and looked back to speak, the Dowager Lady's voice chimed in.
“It is rather unseemly for the manager of such a vast estate not to be of noble birth. Once Abigail arrives, make sure to replace the head maid.”
“Of course, Dowager Lady. Just a moment.”
Leaving the Dowager Lady behind, Charlotte stepped into the reception room alone. Backlit by a square of light, her shadow fell over Barbara's hunched form.
“I've been looking for you. What are you doing in here?”
Still gripping Barbara's blade, Peter bared his teeth in a grin. He mouthed a silent threat to her:
“She's calling for you.”
“I asked what you are doing!”
“Should I make things very difficult for your master right here?”
The strength drained from Barbara's grip. Peter smirked, baring his teeth at her.
Slowly, Barbara straightened up, hiding her sword and blood-stained hand behind her back as she walked toward Charlotte, who stood silhouetted in the doorway.
“Mother, what is it?”
“It's nothing. Go attend to His Majesty.”
Sabine peeked her head through the open door before vanishing. Other nobles cast curious glances toward the Marquis's darkened quarters, but with Charlotte blocking the doorway, they couldn't see inside.
On the boundary between light and darkness, Charlotte and Barbara stood face-to-face.
Barbara stared out into the light; Charlotte stared into the darkness. There was no way Charlotte could have missed Peter, yet she showed no sign of surprise.
“You shouldn't be doing this, Marchioness.”
“I have no idea what you mean, Barbara.”
“If you are a mother, you shouldn't go this far.”
“That’s rich, coming from the bitch who drove a wedge between a mother and her son. Once you're gone, I'll naturally be able to play the mother again.”
Charlotte stared at Barbara's expressionless face before turning around. Returning to the brilliant lights of the party, she spoke loudly enough for the surrounding noblewomen to hear.
“She was tidying up Oscar's room, it seems. She is lacking in many ways, but her loyalty is truly remarkable.”
“I see.”
“Well then, finish up and come out.”
Charlotte smiled brightly and personally closed the door. The clear sounds of the party grew distant again, muffled by the wood, and the reception room was plunged back into darkness.
“You guys were so late I almost died,” Peter muttered, rising from behind Barbara.
His subordinates, dressed in Royal Guard uniforms, crept out from the dressing room and the office, surrounding her.
“Our apologies.”
Barbara wiped the blood flowing down her arm onto her dress and tightened her grip on her sword.
“Now,” Peter's amused voice echoed softly, “shall we hunt the old wolf?”
* * *
'Retrieve the insignia and seal taken by Charlotte von Reinhardt.'
Upon receiving the brief but powerful command delivered by a sparrowhawk, Karl, the Search Team Leader, personally led Team 1 into action.
With Count Jerome, his daughter, and Charlotte all away, the Count's residence was empty. Infiltrating the estate was child's play for Search Team 1.
The servants didn't even realize someone had slipped inside, a task made even easier by the fact that most of the maids had been sent to accompany Charlotte to the party at the Marquisate residence.
About an hour after infiltrating the Count's residence, Search Team 1 slipped back out, a small box in their hands.
“Leader, we have retrieved the seal, but it seems the Marchioness is currently wearing the insignia.”
Karl opened the lid of the box handed to him. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked inside.
“There was also a letter that appears to have been sent by the late Marquis.”
After handing the box back to one of his Wolves, Karl picked up a faded envelope. The military-style envelope, of a design no longer in use, was familiar to him. So was the aged handwriting on it.
'From Ernst von Reinhardt to Charlotte.'
Karl turned the envelope over. There were no signs of it having been opened. The contents seemed to remain inside, exactly as Ernst had sent them.
Placing Ernst's letter back into the box, he inspected the seal. Engraved with Charlotte's name, it appeared genuine at first glance, but he would need Barbara to verify the details.
Karl placed the seal back in the box and asked, “What is the situation at the Marquisate residence?”
“The King's army has set up camp inside the Marquisate residence. Shouldn't we provide backup right away? Inside the manor…”
“We do not move unless a request for backup is made.”
At Karl's cold response, the search wolf fell silent. Karl pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket and placed it between his lips. The wolf lit it for him.