Chapter 13: That Woman is a No-Go
Chapter 13: She's Not the One
The cleanup proceeded quietly.
Though he probably wanted to turn the entire Northern Army upside down, Dietrich knew how to restrain himself. Step by step, he tightened the net—starting with the field communication network that had received the intel about the northwest valley route—to ensure no rat could hide in its hole.
The defense line commander. The messenger corps. The engineers in charge of markers. The supply wagon handlers... One by one, names of those who could have tampered with the supplies surfaced.
Good.
Now that he knew where the rat holes were, it was time to kick them in.
But I was still locked inside the tent.
The commander had me confined to the tent while they handled things on their own.
So this is what it feels like to be an imprisoned emperor.
Running macros and passively gaining experience wasn't the worst feeling, but the creeping unease crawling under my skin was unsettling.
And a man's instincts are rarely wrong.
A single supply wagon bound for the northwest valley route had been intercepted. It wasn't on the official dispatch records, yet it had a field movement permit.
Given the circumstances, even temporary movement permits required the Grand Duke's approval.
I glanced at Dietrich and casually asked,
"It's a fake."
Oh? Already caught the tail?
"What are you waiting for? Let's go get them."
I grabbed my coat.
Nicholas blocked my path as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"You still can't move."
"It's time to move."
"The medic forbade Your Highness from even leaving the bed."
"Will the medic stop the monsters?"
Nicholas's mouth snapped shut.
In that brief silence, I threw on my coat.
"It's something mimicking the scent of demons.
We can't just rely on paper reports when we don't know who touched it, who burned it, or who hid it."
Nicholas swallowed a sigh—short and barely audible.
This time, I won.
The northwest supply route was a complete mess.
The snow, melting and freezing repeatedly, had turned every wheel track into a chaotic mix of ice sheets, puddles, and mud pits. Dense conifers crowded both sides of the path, casting deep shadows even at midday.
It was the perfect place for something to go wrong.
The supply wagon had stopped at the mouth of the path. The Northern Army blocked both ends, and Caspar was already standing beside the wagon.
The moment Ulrich saw the wagon's floor, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Don't open it."
At his words, the soldier inspecting the wagon froze.
Ulrich flicked his fingers, and the floorboards tore themselves apart.
Sacks filled with blue powder came into view first.
Fluorescent marking powder.
A perfectly normal supply item—nothing suspicious.
And then.
Beneath them, tucked into the gaps of the floor, were rows of black vials. Inside the glass containers, a viscous liquid sloshed slowly.
Found it.
Hey, Mung-i.
You're gonna pop up a message like Clue found: Next lead on the human mimicking the scent of demons, right?
But I had to wipe the smirk off my face immediately.
One of the supply soldiers kneeling beside the wagon suddenly jerked upright. Before the Northern Army could grab him, he pulled out a small hidden vial and smashed it against the ground.
If I'm going down, I'm taking you all with me.
This is why, across all genres, humans are more troublesome than monsters.
Ulrich's pale face, stiff as marble, looked like a statue.
"Everyone, fall back!"
Too late.
Clang.
The black liquid spread across the blue powder.
The viscous substance, thick as mud, bubbled violently before suddenly boiling over.
"Damn it."
Ulrich cursed under his breath.
Whatever this was, it was clearly bad news.
Dark smoke pooled heavily across the ground, and a pungent stench spread instantly.
Everyone reflexively covered their noses and mouths with their sleeves.
A smell that clawed at the inside of the skull.
A smell like black threads snagging the back of the throat.
The mages from the Magic Division raised their hands. A gale erupted from their fingertips, dragging the smoke and stench upward before scattering it into the sky.
"Monsters will swarm us."
As if in response, the forest trembled with a low, ominous hum.
From far, far away, the cries of monsters erupted all at once.
A battle in a narrow path surrounded by forest.
Not good.
Really not good.
"Can't we just sweep them away with magic?"
Ulrich let out a short, humorless laugh at my question.
"Even after all this, you still underestimate magic."
Did you have to phrase it like that?
"Monsters aren't pushovers when it comes to mana resistance. To kill them, we'd need maximum output."
Before he even finished speaking, Ulrich slashed vertically through the air.
A blue flash of light crashed into the northern forest.
The monsters hadn't even shown themselves yet, but the frozen ground split open in a straight line. Snow, black soil, and shards of ice erupted into the air.
The monsters' cries faltered a beat later.
"If we can't kill them, we can at least block their advance."
Blood trickled from Ulrich's nose.
His already marble-pale face turned even whiter, and his blue eyes shook like cracked glass.
"I can't do it twice."
"Once is enough. I'll take it from here."
Dietrich stepped in beside him.
I bit my tongue and swallowed my words.
We weren't the kind of relationship where we exchanged compliments, so pretending not to notice was the right call.
I rolled the dice, he rolled with it, and we got results.
That was all there was to it.
"Form ranks! Shields up!"
At Dietrich's command, shields rose in perfect unison. The wavering line of soldiers sharpened again.
Dietrich took the front.
"Behind this path is our base. And in that base are our people.
So we hold the line here."
His words sent a surge of energy through the soldiers.
Ah, right.
The Grand Duke was finally defending his own territory.
The first monster burst from the forest.
A mutt bigger than a wolf, its spine jutting outward like black spikes, its maw glistening with blue slime where gums should have been.
It lunged at the flank of the shield wall.
Caspar's sword moved.
The monster's front legs hit the ground first. Its torso stumbled two more steps before collapsing belatedly.
Ah, as always, this guy's playing in a different league.
Monsters clad in black carapaces charged in droves.
Crash!
Dietrich's Northern Army absorbed the first impact.
Shields buckled. Some soldiers were shoved back. But sharp spears thrust through the gaps, stabbing eyes and maws.
The defensive line held.
"Do not yield!"
Dietrich stepped forward and cleaved through the second monster's neck.
Caspar cut down the ones that slipped through, and the Central Knights' vanguard filled the gaps. Ulrich's flames continued to scorch the ground. As the black stench faded, the howls from the forest wavered.
Some monsters lost their way and turned on each other.
It was working.
Seemingly satisfied, Ulrich deployed part of the Magic Division into the fray.
"Barrier, activate."
A thin protective shield layered over the front-line soldiers.
It wasn't a flashy battle.
Not heroic, either.
Just a mechanical cycle of cutting down stragglers and returning to formation.
And that was fine.
Machines don't break unless they malfunction.
Today's goal was for everyone to make it back alive.
Surrounded by my guards and reduced to a spectator, I kept scanning my surroundings, my unease prickling like a splinter.
Everyone was moving frantically.
Soldiers raised shields. Monsters howled. Ulrich burned away the stench.
But there was one other person standing still besides me.
A man in a supply soldier's coat.
He was smiling at the forest where the monsters swarmed.
If this were the original Ludwig, he'd have drawn his sword and leapt into action by now. But my current combat ability was pitiful.
So I'd leave the heroics to the original male leads.
"Ulrich."
"I see him."
Ulrich's voice dropped low.
"He's not human. Stay where you are, Your Highness."
Huh? Not human?
I'd just marked him because, in a scene where everyone was moving, he was the only one standing still.
The man slowly turned his head.
Where his eyes should have been were black voids. His mouth stretched unnaturally wide.
"Too late."
A voice like black smoke slithered straight into my skull.
Caspar moved first.
A flash of steel—and the demon's right arm was severed at the shoulder.
Nothing surprising there.
Or so I thought, until the severed arm dissolved into black smoke midair.
"Watch out!"
Ulrich's warning came too late.
The smoke coiled around Caspar's shadow like a living serpent. For just a heartbeat—just one—Caspar froze.
But on the battlefield, that was enough.
The demon's remaining hand shot toward Caspar's throat.
Crunch!
Dietrich intercepted.
His sword sliced through the demon's wrist. Again, no flesh fell—just more dissolving smoke.
"Cutting it just disperses it!"
Ulrich gritted his teeth.
"Every severed part turns into a curse."
The demon laughed.
That laughter spread toward the forest.
Black smoke slithered across the ground, merging with the remnants of the unburned contaminant. Instantly, the stench thickened again.
The disoriented monsters all lifted their heads in unison.
Their revolting gazes locked onto me and my guards.
"Shift left flank!"
Dietrich's shout.
The Northern Army's shield wall groaned as it pivoted.
Dietrich stepped into the gap himself.
"Stay behind me!"
A monster lunged through the opening.
Dietrich's sword split its maw from below. Black blood splattered across his fur mantle.
"Shields!"
"Shields!"
The Northern Army's chant erupted.
Instead of trying to cut away the black smoke clinging to his shadow, Caspar reversed his grip.
He struck his own shadow—not with the blade, but with the pommel.
Thud.
The Sword Saint's mana shook the earth.
The black smoke tore apart.
Caspar's body relaxed.
Ulrich flicked his fingers.
Blue flames licked across the ground at Caspar's feet, incinerating the remnants of the smoke.
The demon's laughter dimmed slightly.
"It's rude to only receive and not give."
Ulrich flashed the demon a bright smile.
Three magic circles materialized in the air—one over the contaminant, one beneath the demon's feet, and the last over the black smoke trailing into the forest.
"Sever."
A single activation word, and the black smoke snapped.
Some of the monsters charging from the forest lost their way and turned on each other.
Good.
Now it's time to end this.
Caspar struck from the front.
Dietrich blocked the left.
Ulrich's blue chains bound the demon's ankles.
The moment Caspar's blade swung, Dietrich's sword slammed the demon's torso into the ground. The dispersing smoke was trapped by Ulrich's blue flames.
And just like that, the curse-scattering demon was torn apart from three directions at once.
Then.
Its severed head rolled across the muddy ground.
Wearing a grin that hadn't been there before.
A black pattern spread across the ground.
Circular lines and broken strokes crawled through the mud before engulfing the entire supply route in an instant.
Ah, so it was the kind that activates after death.
Ulrich's face twisted as he shouted,
"Deploy defensive barriers!"
A combined magic circle from the Magic Division unfolded overhead. A blue barrier encased everyone.
The problem was, I wasn't included in that "everyone."
Still, good job.
I'd been stuck in the safest corner of the rear to avoid being a liability in battle.
The safe rear.
The spot Nicholas had emphasized three times was secure.
The demon's pattern bloomed exactly there.
Right beneath my feet.
"Your Highness!"
Nicholas reached out.
But I couldn't take his hand.
The ground vanished beneath me.
Guess my role in this novel is just to get wrecked and stranded.
A blank white space.
No floor. No walls. No ceiling.
A place that didn't follow reality's rules, more like a half-baked scene conjured in someone's mind.
Sigh.
I know this place.
That ridiculous device my sister called a "trial of love."
The curse traps the victim with the person they think of most strongly.
In the original, Ludwig thought of Ophélie, Ophélie appeared, and the two confirmed their feelings.
How, you ask?
Don't ask.
I'd sell everything I own to unsee it.
Don't think about it.
Don't think about Ophélie.
Absolutely don't think about Ophélie.
Don't think about—
A white dress flutters at the edge of my vision.
Ah.
Damn it.