Exposing the Spy and Spilling First Blood
The reason I'd known Meylin was a spy from the Hiltons—calling it creepy was putting it mildly—was simple. The moment rumors of the banquet started swirling, her heartbeat sped up by a solid 1.5 times, like a kid the night before a field trip. It was so damn loud I couldn't focus on my book and just slammed it shut. Of course, that alone wasn't hard proof. I'm not some fantasy-world veterinarian. Maybe it was just a timely flare-up of the beastkin heart condition goats are prone to?
So I'd tried to ask Ailin to tail her on the sly, but...
"Hm. Isn't it possible she's just smitten with you, young master?"
That was her response.
Stab. Elena's glare sharpened from beside us, and honestly, the misunderstanding made me uncomfortable too.
No choice but to lay it all out.
"I'm against beastkin discrimination."
She seemed to buy it—Elena's glare softened. Though Ailin's gaze turned to one reserved for trash.
Anyway, the investigation revealed she'd been hired right when Ailin had left the mansion to find me. And her home village was near Hilton territory.
Only then did Ailin nod in agreement.
"She does seem like a spy... but not an assassin."
True enough.
I'm still a total noob with swords, but I'd never sensed that telltale walk or aura from Meylin. Her resume even noted low innate mana.
But just in case—just in case—she was hiding it with some trick, I borrowed an artifact from Arwen for a final test...
"Mehhek!" -Thud.
Hm. Good enough for me. You're a civilian, alright.
After that, I didn't sweat it much. No way some super-assassin was gonna pop out of nowhere and samurai-slice my throat.
Catch 'em red-handed, WWE their asses a bit, extract the info. Done.
Meylin probably thought the artifact hid her, but tough luck—I knew right where she was. A quick snap with Woong-i's power amps my hearing several times over.
With all that clop-clop-clop nearby? How could I miss it?
That's why I'd spotted the sleeping pills in my drink at the banquet too.
Right before sipping, Woong-i's special dirt had snuck up my arm, into the glass, and slurped it up instead. I just pretended to drink.
"Auuugh..."
After capture and my "interrogation," it worked—Meylin spilled everything solo.
Frail little sister, unavoidable circumstances, sob stories galore. Not that I cared much. Just needed it for the duke's report.
The confession bit? I said it to fluster her, not serious.
Her upper half's fine, but that fur? Nah.
Things went smooth, haha-ho-ho ending... or so I thought.
...What the actual fuck is this?
Something unexpected hit.
Hands shaking, heart racing—weird feeling.
I wasn't planning to actually die, and Woong-i's powers would've blocked it anyway. Backup priest in the next room, hearing boosted, timing her entrance perfectly, under the covers ready...
But the instant that dagger hit my body, I instinctively braced for death.
Survival instinct? Something like that.
...This is worse than I thought.
Brain says fine, body screams run! Not normal, that's for sure. Not frozen in fear or anything practical—if that worked, no one'd shake during horror games; they'd smash the monitor.
Two possible causes.
One: First brush with death, body overreacting.
Two: Something from my pre-possession past.
Latter feels more likely, but...
...Dunno.
No memories to check, nothing popping up.
Luckily, a quick fix was right there.
I slowly stood, approached the collapsed Meylin, and hit Macro #1.
"You! Because of you! I almost! DIED!"
"Mehhek...!"
"Does it hurt? Hurt? My heart hurts more hitting you!"
Whew, feeling better already.
"...That's how it went."
"Hm."
The info from the forcibly calmed Meylin was nothing special.
Just drugging the duke's son for family meds, and more assassins coming through the prepped back door soon?
Pretty conscientious, if you ask me.
I'd half-expected cursed artifacts making me stub toes on drawers forever, or forced gender-bend from afar.
With classy interrogation, I got her village location, threatened her sis if she bolts, and left. Gotta report the catch, handle assassins.
Strolling the hall, Ailin piped up.
"...At least it's a relief, right?"
"...What is?"
"That heart-pounding you mentioned as evidence? Wasn't her secretly pining for you."
Fuck.
I shot Ailin a "you got me" look.
She still salty about my beastkin line? Tone like "lol, false alarm?"
But...
...Hm.
Ailin I know doesn't joke like that.
Probably saw my weird state earlier, trying to lighten the mood.
No reason to refuse, so I played along.
"It's fine. Even if she confessed outta nowhere, I'd reject her. Got my lines ready."
"Mind if I hear? I could help with your love life."
"Obvious: Got someone else I like. Classic."
"Someone you... like..."
Ailin's face twitched.
She knows my situation. No dating till the family's stable or heir shows. Near impossible.
I shrugged lightly.
"Doesn't exist anyway. I'd just say the princess I glimpsed haunts my dreams."
"Princess...? No unmarried imperial princesses right now."
"Really?"
"...You didn't know."
"Duh. Never met one."
Now she looked thoughtful.
Come to think of it, Ailin's got imperial ties.
Something catching there? Old palace friend she's nostalgic for?
Didn't pry.
"......"
"......"
Silence till the office felt nice.
"Kehk..."
"Kuhk..."
"How'd they find out... that traitor...!"
Assassins delivered safely to the mansion.
Assassins safely diced by swords.
We'd known about the back door, so duke and I pondered then pulled "defense flower: entrance camp"—reverse style. No escape; slam the door, shred 'em.
Ailin, knowing everything, was deployed.
And...
"...Why're you here, sis?"
"Just."
Shockingly, Elena joined.
She insisted despite dad's no; Ailin swore she'd tank the dangers, so approval.
Yeah, dad's a total girl-dad.
Luckily(?), these were appetizers—no one outmatched Elena.
Knight captain on standby just in case.
Leader KO'd for interrogation by Ailin.
Most assassins dead.
And.
"Fuck...!"
"......"
One weakest left.
My role? Real combat XP.
Ailin and Elena watching hawk-eyed—mistakes wouldn't kill me.
Perfect first fight.
-Shing.
Slowly drew my sword. Sharp real steel, not training wood.
Not awkward; plenty of live-blade practice in lessons.
"Damn...!"
Assassin, seeing Ailin idle after slaughtering pals, charged reverse-grip dagger wild.
I watched slow...
-Clang!
Blocked it.
Pounded into me sparring Elena.
Hard to pierce pure defense.
"Fuckin' nobody...!"
"......"
"Scared shitless, can't even...!"
No falling for taunts. Just newbie nerves. Attacking humans? Hesitant. But killing? Not opposed. Kill or be killed world.
All the deaths I'd seen... now me involved? Unsettling.
-Clang!
He flung my sword hard.
Normally recoil back, reset.
But.
Woong-i.
I was different.
Waited for this.
-Crunch.
As planned, Woong-i lifted ground into a platform underfoot.
Launched body halted on it.
Crouched like a track star, sprang forward on rebound.
"Wh-what?!"
To him: midair dash.
But not enough.
Veteran killer.
Straight attacks blockable; mix feints.
-Tap. "......!"
He whipped at empty rear.
Woong-i clashed stones blind-spot: fake footsteps. Gap in stance.
"You bastard...!"
Realized tricked, pivoted to me—but.
-Thud.
Woong-i fixed climbing dirt on legs: immobile. Stance crumbled.
"Shit...!"
Too late; abandoned block, swung for throat. Suicide mutual kill.
I whipped left arm.
-Clang! Dagger ricocheted off hardened dirt skin—unbelievable sound. Exposed.
Lightning exchange: he lost all. My sword thrust heart.
-Squelch.
Odd hilt vibration ended my first real fight.
Warmish blood splashed face.
Backed quick, watched him twitch dying.
"...Good work."
"......Yeah."
Blood? Familiar.
Death? Familiar.
Why's me doing it unfamiliar?
Really dunno.
"......You okay?"
"...Seen plenty of corpses in the alleys. This is fi—bleurgh!"
Fuck! Not fine!
Hate it! Gross as hell!
Couldn't hold; hurled into bushes. Flesh-parting feel? Nasty!
"Cough......!"
Yeah, fine with this? Psychopath.
Ailin and Elena slicing foes hesitation-free? Value clash.
Nobles here: life-or-death routine.
Possessor woes, man.
"I'd love to give you time to calm, but..."
"...More to do?"
"Mind stripping?"
"...?"
Suddenly? World didn't flip chastity norms while I fought.
Ah.
"Check for wounds? But I'm unscathed..."
"No, watched from start. Just... blood as medium for tricks? Burn wet clothes best."
That too?
Not hard; slowly shed outer layers.
Pants fine. Close heart stab, blood upper-splashed.
No full nude—lucky.
"Huh?"
Now noticing: Elena and Ailin's clothes spotless.
Sword mastery: deflect blood?
"...Aura's physical unlike mana; time the spray, deflect."
"......" Just me aura-less. Though rarer in imperial knights—they're outliers.
Blood soaked deeper; full shirt off.
Heading to incinerator—
"......Ah."
Vision spun, nearly tripped.
Tension? Legs still jelly.
"First fight's rough. Give me the clothes; I'll handle."
"...Thanks. Need a break."
Handed bundle to Ailin, trudged mansion-ward.
Sleep with this unease? Dunno, but try.
"Hoo."
Cold night breeze.
Ailin sighed, surveyed.
Blood-and-corpse lawn.
Maids'd freak by morning; clean preemptively.
Burn clothes, call Hans for bodies...
"Wait."
"...Miss?"
Elena halted Ailin's step.
Issue?
"Thirsty."
"...Understood. Burn these, fetch water from—"
"Now."
"...Pardon?"
Elena doesn't whine.
Hidden meaning? Ailin pondered...
"Water."
...Nope.
"Give me those; get water first."
"...Yes."
Night's long; water run fine.
Set clothes aside, headed kitchen.
Mansion entry eve—
Ominous hunch struck.
"No way..."
That thick taste earlier.
Overly familial fondness.
Odd behavior.
"Nah..."
Just in case, turned back quick to Elena.
"Miss, did you..."
Rounding corner—eyes met.
Elena against wall.
Hunch right: holding the discarded clothes. Arm raised.
Sniffing Dane's sweat-soaked back—not bloodied part.
"......"
"......"
Gaze clash: wordless exchange.
Quick consensus.
"...Forget it."
"...Yes."
Ailin erased the scene, kitchen-bound again.
"...Mansion's gone mad."
Unusual. But first close peer for miss—interest natural. 2nd prince betrothal light; sever anytime. Back then, duke needed non-hostile imperial tie, drop throne claims. Prince, throne-hopeless, clung for survival. Never met.
Elena sword-only till now eyeing another man? Ailin happy.
"...But he's her brother."
Blood or not, registry-bro that? Icky.
End betrothal, marriage possible. Miss inherits safe, bastard fakeout revealed.
Just... miss's instinct-driven novelty weird.
"Haa..."
Dane's arrival spiked Ailin's worries too.
Him the culprit?
Dunno.
Pointless anyway; nothing she could do.
Just hoped it'd all fade quietly. Small wish.