Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Family Cleanup (4)
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Lydia's eyes rounded like a cat's.
She stared fixedly at the grapes I offered her.
“This, this is something only lovers would do….”
Even when threatening the empire's grand dukes.
Even when facing the Toruman clan, her calm pupils had never wavered.
“To look like lovers, there's no more perfect act than this.”
I spoke quietly, glancing back and forth at Hakim's guards.
The princess followed my gaze, stealing a peek at our targets.
A gaze brimming with deep suspicion.
At the sight, the princess swallowed hard.
“Ugh….”
Lydia's face twisted in embarrassment.
Then her eyes narrowed.
Her fine lips parted slowly.
A transparent thread dangled between her sharp canines.
I snapped the thread and slipped the plump grape inside.
The fruit settled softly on her tongue.
Only then did the princess clamp her lips shut.
She whipped her head away.
“Eats well—.”
I shot a faint smile toward Hakim's guards.
Fortunately, their suspicions had eased.
Heads lowered, they focused on their own meals.
“Whew—thank goodness. Looks like they've lost interest, thanks to you.”
I turned my head leisurely.
The instant my eyes returned to the princess.
“You… you dare….”
Her face beet-red, the princess glared up at me in fury.
Her features were hidden beneath the robe, but her outrage was palpable.
“No choice—we weren't exposed, were we?”
I shrugged it off with a laugh.
The princess, however, issued a dire warning in a chilling tone.
“You will answer for your actions today….”
She resembled a snarling cub leopard.
Even so, her prickly vibe made us look like the perfect couple.
“Of course. I'll take responsibility—by capturing Hakim and delivering him to you.”
Eyes drifting shut, I replied at ease.
When they opened again.
“Now you do your part.”
This time, a grape hovered before my lips.
‘This is what she meant by responsibility?’
She pinched the taut grape between her pale thumb and forefinger.
Rising from her chair, the princess thrust it rigidly toward me.
“What are you waiting for? Keep this up, and the disguise is blown—.”
Her eyes curved in sly challenge—eat it if you dare.
She meant to make me taste the same shame.
I answered with a smirk.
Then calmly leaned toward her fingers.
“…!”
Lydia startled as my lips rushed close.
“H-Hold on….”
She hadn't dreamed I'd actually take the grape—her fingers twitched.
In that moment, I swallowed hers demonstratively.
Right then.
Her finger grazed my lips as it pulled free.
Lydia felt the damp sensation full force.
She snatched her hand back and spun away.
“Delicious. Thanks.”
Head still turned, the princess said nothing.
She merely clutched the offending finger tight.
“Your Highness…? You alright?”
I lifted my face to ask.
But Lydia, robe hood pulled low, only murmured to herself.
“It… touched….”
With no real answer forthcoming, I shifted my gaze.
Hakim's knights were rising from their seats.
I watched them intently as they departed.
Just as they slipped fully outside.
“Please wait here. I'll nab them quick.”
I rose too and headed out.
The street teemed with crowds.
But crowds or no, they couldn't mask their mana.
Three at the table.
At least two were solid knight-grade.
I circled to the building's rear where the mana pulsed.
Unlike the bustling street, a dead-silent alley awaited.
Thick mana hung heavy in the air.
I crept toward it stealthily.
Then….
“Out at last.”
The hooded man who'd eyed Lydia and me so suspiciously appeared—flanked by his comrades.
One cut off my retreat.
The other readied an attack, green aura flaring from his hand.
“How'd you spot my tail?”
I asked them deadpan.
The hooded man scoffed.
“Your companion—the one with the potent perception-dampening spell.”
The knights hadn't clocked it.
I flicked my eyes toward the shaman.
‘Eastern high shaman….’
Shamans sensed mana intuitively by nature.
That explained it.
“Fine. Caught red-handed—let's cut to it.”
I nodded to them solemnly.
Black eyes glinting, I declared.
“Take me to Hakim, the one you serve. Show me him too, for bonus.”
A brazen order.
The three knights exchanged uneasy glances.
Then erupted in boisterous laughter.
“What a joker.”
“Knew we were Hakim-nim's guards? Should've brought ten men at least.”
Hood and escape-blocker drew keen daggers and scimitars in unison.
The shaman poured power into his bracelet.
“We planned to drag you in anyway. Half-dead!”
The hooded man hoisted his scimitar.
He commanded the escape-blocker and shaman.
“Take him alive. First success gets a fat reward from the prince!”
Cripple him, the order implied.
The shaman loosed green venom needles.
Dagger-man slashed for my back.
A polished joint assault.
Fitting for aides to the East's former overlord.
But merely that.
I spun to evade the swiftest needles first.
As the other dagger closed in.
I whipped out my waist-sheathed longsword and parried.
One-handed, I hammered his dagger viciously.
“Grk…!”
I'd expected panic at the power gap.
Instead, he belched foul green mana from his blade.
“Idiot…! Think this a plain dagger?!”
Rank stench assaulted my nose from the edge.
“Acidic venom?”
A dagger slick with acid that rotted foe weapons.
Artifact-grade.
“That's right. Facing us, you overlooked this?”
He lashed out wildly.
Eagerly clanging my blade to corrode it.
But….
“Hakim's loaded, huh.”
He scowled soon enough.
“Handing artifacts to scrubs like you.”
No mark blemished my longsword, no matter the barrage.
“Wh-what… why's your edge pristine?”
Flustered, he backpedaled.
Perhaps from hammering so gleefully.
He wandered into my longsword's reach.
“Mine's pricey too.”
I one-handed Irina's raised longsword in a sweep.
Sword energy clove the retreating fool in two.
Thud….
Eyes bulging, the shaman spied his rolling comrade.
Snapping to, he thrust both hands—hurling hundreds of venom needles my way.
Wind spell laced the volley.
I countered by lunging my sword at a nearby tent.
Whirled the blade-wrapped canvas at the swarm.
￣￣￣!!
Needles keen as drills plonked into the billowing cloth.
Cactus-like.
“What technique…!”
Hands empty of ammo, he flailed.
As he clasped for fresh spells.
I lopped off one hand neatly.
“Kaaagh!!”
Arm sundered, the shaman wailed and crumpled.
“Stanch it. Leaving one alive.”
I flicked filthy blood from my blade.
Then fixed on the final foe—the one who'd sicced his minions first.
“…”
Meeting my stare, he smirked.
Leisurely applause followed.
“Impressive.”
He shed his hood.
One arm bound, he spoke.
“That skill qualifies you for Hakim-nim.”
He beckoned.
“Come. I'll lead to him.”
As if he'd merely tested me.
Exasperated, I shot back.
“You insane?”
“…?”
My scoff creased his brow.
“Send grunts to die, slip out solo.”
I leveled Irina's longsword.
Aimed at him, I addressed the fallen shaman.
“Hey.”
“Y-Yes…?”
“You know Hakim's hideout too?”
Clutching his stump, he gawked awkwardly.
Catching on, he bobbed his head frantically.
“Y-Yes… I do!”
“Good.”
Guide procured.
Golden blur in my wake, I lunged at the last.
“…!”
He bolted in panic.
Big talk and tests—now tail-between-legs flight.
Nearing fast, he quit running.
Pivoted ambush-style, scimitar flashing.
Artifact-sharp, his too.
Minion-issue still.
A mere stick beside the princess's imperial heirloom.
Claaang!!
My sword sundered scimitar and arm alike.
“Guhk…!!”
Black ichor frothed his mouth.
He endured, fleeing on.
“Hahk… hahk…!!”
Armless, he lurched madly.
Main street in desperate sight.
Golden sword energy speared his throat.
Thud…!!
Foot nudged his head into shadow.
I turned.
Shaman had stanched his bleed with spells, luckily.
Trembling-faced, he stared rigidly.
“Follow.”
He lurched upright, shambling after as I led to street.
We halted soon.
Lydia's black-robed form trailed us plainly.
“Got 'em?”
“One solid catch.”
Shaman clocked the princess.
Dropped to knees at once.
“P-Princess Highness….”
Lydia gazed coldly on his deep bow.
“Word of a rank-drop shaman gone rogue… you.”
“Mercy, please….”
One-armed, he forehead-slammed dirt.
Her aura shook him visibly.
Arms crossed, the princess alone spoke.
“Head up.”
“…”
Shaman raised his quivering face with effort.
Met her merciful gaze.
“Grave your sins, yet repentance stirs this heart.”
Lydia knelt.
Patted his shoulder.
“Guide to Hakim's lair—forgiveness, aye, reinstatement too.”
“Tr-Truly…?”
Eyes brimmed, moved.
“Aye. Past errors—grieve not overmuch.”
“Thank you… thank you!!”
He rose.
Bowed nonstop, vowing loyalty eternal.
‘As expected….’
I eyed Lydia steadily.
Past life, she'd been ruthless to traitors.
This life, commoner trials softened her markedly.
Sensing my look, she turned.
Prim-faced, queried.
“What.”
“Unexpected mercy—so quick.”
She snorted.
“Guide-role seals it—Hakim brands him traitor. Follows me natural?”
Ruby eyes gleamed sharp.
“Perfect loyalist gained.”
“Wise as ever.”
Fond gaze down upon her.
Smile fled swift.
“And one far guiltier than him—acts unpardonable aplenty.”
Very irked, she peered up.
“Yes…?”
“Dared soil this body with your spit! Think you escape scot-free?”
Lydia fumed.
To me, mere yipping cub.
“No… you fed me the grape, Highness?”
“Quiet! Grape alone—who bade you lick my finger?”
Cut me short.
Marched ahead solo, adjuring.
“Fail Hakim—palace cell for you. Know it!”
Her threat chilled my spine.
For….
No term specified.