Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: 67. There Is No One in This World Who Does Not Dream (2)
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The princess of Tudor hummed a cheerful tune nonstop.
It was a rare sight, even for the handmaiden who had served her for so long.
"You seem much happier since returning from the banquet, Your Highness."
The handmaiden ventured carefully.
"Do I?"
The princess asked, gazing into the mirror.
She gently touched the corners of her upturned mouth.
"You're right. I do feel good."
She flashed a radiant smile before turning away from the mirror.
"Those princesses were far more vulgar and unimpressive than I imagined. Seeing that put my mind at ease."
The princess looked utterly delighted as she spoke of these women who had nothing but their looks to boast about—and even those fell short in her eyes.
"If I'd known trash like that was coming from the start, I wouldn't have wasted my breath badmouthing them in front of him."
"Were you worried about them?"
"Of course I was."
The handmaiden smiled at the immediate reply.
It was a slightly mischievous grin.
She thought spring had finally come for her lady. The concern over the other princesses must have stemmed from worry that the man on her mind might fancy one of them.
But no.
"It has to be us Tudors linking the western kingdoms with Leonberger. I absolutely refuse to let some fool princess wedge herself in between."
The princess's satisfaction wasn't the tender whim of a naive girl. It was a coldly pragmatic judgment from a shrewd politician.
"From the looks of things, it doesn't seem like some weirdo will snag the crown princess position in Leonberger. If all goes well, I can head straight home once this is over. Right?"
The handmaiden's smile froze awkwardly on her face.
Hestia Neumann Tudor paid no mind to her servant's inner thoughts.
She was solely focused on how to wield the treasured sword the crown prince had placed in her hand.
A blade that had turned even the stubborn Duke Seymour into an obedient dog.
She could hardly wait to see how the arrogant men of Tudor—who thought themselves the best in the world—would react.
"The moment I get back, I'll start right away..."
Hestia's face hardened as she hummed happily lost in pleasant imaginings.
Rumble rumble rumble.
The teacup on the table shook violently. The window overlooking the manicured garden trembled as if it might shatter.
Hestia jolted in shock.
Her mind went blank from the overwhelming presence of some colossal entity rising in the distance.
She could barely breathe.
If not for the majestic aura that followed, she might have fainted on the spot.
"Ah..."
Hestia exhaled deeply and glanced out the window.
The brilliantly lit palace where the crown princess selection banquet was underway—the Leonberger royal palace.
"What in the..."
The soul-crushing presence had vanished, but the terror lingered, muddling her thoughts.
She bit her lip to shake off the fear.
Slap.
She struck the handmaiden's cheek. The girl had been gasping for air until that moment.
"Ah... Your Highness?"
"Something's happening outside. Go find out wha—"
Bang!
She was about to send the handmaiden to investigate when Duke Seymour burst in ahead of her.
"Princess! The Leonberger royal palace is under attack!"
Hestia scowled.
"Attack? By whom...?"
"This isn't the time for questions. We need to find a safe place to hide immediately."
She asked where she was supposed to flee in a foreign palace she didn't know, but the duke just repeated that they had to get to safety.
"We should escape the palace first."
"My uncle, the kingdom's greatest knight, is with us. We have a hundred Rose Thorn Knights too. If we skulk away now, it could become a lasting disgrace once the chaos settles."
She tried persuading him that with the kingdom's top knight and his order present, what was there to fear?
Then she noticed the duke's expression and froze.
"Uncle...?"
She tried to play it cool, but the anxiety flickering in his eyes was unmistakable.
No— it was closer to terror.
He'd suffered a crushing defeat recently, but he was still T Tudor's strongest knight.
"Your words only hold if Leonberger's knights can contain the situation."
"You mean..."
"Leonberger's knights cannot quell this disturbance."
The duke turned his gaze toward the distant banquet hall, shuddering as if something horrific lurked there.
"Was it that bizarre aura that surged from that direction just now?"
The duke nodded gravely.
"It was but a fleeting moment, but I swear I've never encountered such a colossal force before."
"Could it be the crown prince's...?"
"The aura I felt was unmistakably from a high circle. Nothing like the mana from the crown prince's heart. It was more like..."
He forced out the words.
"The might of a Penta Knight."
Hestia's face hardened too.
Unversed in swords though she was, she knew how formidable a Penta Knight was.
"Only Penta Knights can face Penta Knights. Leonberger has none."
Her heart tightened. She stared at the duke, suppressing her unease.
"I agree the crown prince's realm is astonishing for his age. But even so, I don't believe he can match a Penta Knight."
Guessing her thoughts, the duke continued.
"The Leonberger royals might meet their end here tonight. Best not to get caught up— we should flee while we can."
Hestia's face turned to stone.
The duke grabbed her arm to pull her along.
She shook him off and strode forward.
Toward the banquet hall.
"What are you—"
"Duke Seymour."
Hestia halted and turned to him.
Her gaze was unwavering despite her pallid face.
"We're going to the banquet hall."
"Princess!"
"I won't force you. But you will bear full responsibility for your choice."
She spat the sharp words and marched on.
"Then I'll escort you by force if I must."
The duke blocked her path.
"If you try to stop me by force, I'll hate you forever and consider you my enemy."
Her glare was fierce enough to convince even a fool of her sincerity.
And she meant it.
All her plans hinged on her promise with the crown prince remaining valid. If anything happened to him, everything would crumble.
She might have endured if she'd stayed resigned forever.
But now that the ember had reignited, she couldn't control it.
She'd never return to that caged flower life.
She'd rather die.
The duke couldn't bring himself to block her further and took the lead. The Rose Thorn Knights followed.
The faint clash of weapons reached their ears. The acrid scent of blood assaulted her nostrils.
"It's not too late to turn back."
Her steps quickened unconsciously at the duke's words.
They walked on for some time.
Then Hestia stopped again.
Rooooar.
Majestic auras erupted from various points in the palace.
"Leonberger's Quad Knights. They're... heading to the banquet hall."
"Ah..."
Hestia let out an exclamation at the duke's words.
It was an awe-inspiring experience.
These mighty knights charged ahead, revealing their presences without restraint.
She could sense their unhesitating steps without seeing them. She could feel their lion-like roars without hearing them.
Silver Lions, she thought idly. What a fitting name for their spirit.
Her heart pounded. A wry smile escaped her lips.
The famed "kingdom's greatest knight" had sensed defeat and fled before even clashing, yet these knights from an obscure frontier charged their foe without a hint of fear.
Whose land this was didn't matter.
It was a fundamental difference in temperament.
Hestia couldn't tell if Duke Seymour had always been so frail or if the crushing defeat had broken him.
One thing was clear: T Tudor's knights were far weaker than she'd thought.
That feeling intensified as they entered the corridor leading to the banquet hall.
"Princess, look away."
The duke stepped in front as she wrinkled her nose at the piercing blood stench.
Hestia neither closed her eyes nor hid behind him.
She stared straight ahead.
Traces of fierce combat. Unattended corpses. Most wore black armor, but some gleamed in resplendent gold.
Leonberger Royal Knights.
Dented breastplates, crushed helmets—every body was gruesome, and none had let go of their swords.
She could imagine how valiantly they'd fought without seeing it.
They must have battled to the end, even grievously wounded.
"There's a survivor here!"
One of the Rose Thorn Knights ahead shouted.
Hestia turned and saw a Leonberger Royal Knight with a chest wound struggling to rise.
She stepped toward him unthinkingly.
The duke reached out to stop her.
He shook his head.
His eyes said it was hopeless. No chance.
Hestia glanced at the duke, then back at the knight.
She knelt and pressed her hand to his wound. Blood gushed out, soaking her hand and dress in moments.
"Th-the enemy was stronger than we expected... Must tell His Majesty..."
The knight repeated the same words.
"...Your Silver Lions are heading to the banquet hall. Don't worry."
"Ah, the Silver Lions are coming...! That's a relief..."
Only then did the knight stop struggling and sigh in relief.
He smiled faintly.
Then breathed his last.
"Ah..."
Hestia rose, staring alternately at the blood on her hands and the knight's corpse still clutching his sword.
Her gaze shifted behind her.
The overly tense Rose Thorn Knights. Duke Seymour, unable to hide his growing anxiety as the banquet hall neared.
Hestia sighed lowly.
What "kingdom's greatest knight"? What "continent's finest order"?
They weren't even a match for these nameless frontier knights.
Clank, clank, clank.
Heavy footsteps echoed from behind as she sighed.
The alarmed Rose Thorn Knights surrounded her.
Blood-soaked knights rounded the corner.
The newcomers stared fixedly at the Royal Knights' corpses.
"Damn. Even with warning and preparations, we couldn't prevent all casualties."
One man sighed shortly, then addressed Hestia's group.
"You're from Tudor, correct?"
"Yes. And you are... Leonberger knights."
Unlike the golden-armored Royal Knights, they wore duller armor, but a vivid lion emblem adorned their chests.
"Erhim Kiringer of the Iron Lion Knight Order greets the princess of Tudor. Our respects to the Tudor royals."
The man saluted crisply and explained the situation.
Enemies had invaded, so they'd rushed to protect the Tudor delegation, leaving their rear exposed and struggling to catch up. From now on, they'd escort them to safety.
"Tudor is not so lacking in honor as to ignore an ally in peril and retreat."
Hestia stated her intent firmly.
"You're heading to the banquet hall?"
"Yes. With Duke Seymour and the Rose Thorn Knights, we can help overcome your kingdom's crisis."
"Then we'll take the lead."
Hestia had expected some back-and-forth, so the straightforward reply left her deflated.
"You don't object?"
"As you know, the kingdom's Silver Lions are heading there. In this palace right now, that spot is undoubtedly the safest."
That was when the silent Duke Seymour spoke up.
"Erhim, was it? You seem unaware of how formidable your enemy is. I assure you, the place you call safest is the most dangerous."
His rigid tone matched his stony face, but Erhim Kiringer showed no change in expression.
"What will it be? To the banquet hall, or turn back? We'll escort you either way."
His gaze fixed precisely on Hestia.
"To the banquet hall."
"Then follow us. Dunham, you stay here. When the palace guards arrive, tend to the Royal Knights and catch up."
Erhim Kiringer gave the Royal Knights' bodies a regretful glance before positioning himself before the Tudor knights.
"This way."
He strode ahead.
Hestia followed promptly.
They passed several signs of battle en route, but encountered no living foes.
Only fragments of crushed black armor remained.
Utterly one-sided carnage.
"One of the Silver Lions must have passed this way."
Erhim Kiringer muttered softly and quickened his pace.
They finally reached the colonnade overlooking the banquet hall.
Halt.
Hestia and the Tudor knights stopped in unison behind the Iron Lion Knight Order.
White-haired old swordmasters stood before them.
Swords gleaming like the sun in their hands, feet trampling black-armored knights' corpses.
Opposite them loomed a black knight in armor like smeared midnight.
He simply stood there like a ghost, but Hestia knew instantly.
That black knight was the overwhelming force that had robbed the "kingdom's greatest knight" of his will before even facing him.
Just then, the black knight's aura began to rise slowly. The Leonberger knights matched it without yielding.
The tension was razor-sharp, on the verge of explosion.
"A knight who wields the name of nightmare."
A voice cut through the center.
"No doubt you invade others' dreams to deliver ill omens."
It was Leonberger's crown prince.
"But since no one in this world is free from dreams..."
The crown prince smiled broadly at the black knight.
"...it's no great surprise if they awaken to find tonight's nightmare was their own."
As if he could hardly contain his delight.
He added that his sword's name was the dawn's twilight—perfect for rousing such a foe.
Swish.
The crown prince drew his sword and raised it high.
Then swung it down.