Chapter 40
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Night of Chaos
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Suddenly, an unidentified assassin plunged a knife into the neck of a man presumed to be his comrade and fled.
While I stood there frozen, a bit flustered by the situation.
Roselia, who had also been momentarily dazed by the abrupt turn of events, was the first to snap out of it.
She staggered over to Leonier's side and dropped to her knees.
"Leonier! Pull yourself together!!"
The princess's face had gone deathly pale.
The blood gushing from her side showed no sign of slowing.
Roselia placed her trembling hand over the wound and mustered her remaining mana.
"Heal... heal, please...!"
A light blending white and pale green flowed from her palm, enveloping the injury.
Thanks to the magic, the bleeding eased somewhat, but it was only first aid.
Only then did I regain my wits and hurry to assist Roselia in treating the princess.
But in that instant, my gaze drifted back to the man sprawled on the floor.
The roughly 10cm dagger the fleeing intruder had jammed in.
From the bloody foam bubbling from his throat, death was just a matter of time.
He hadn't died instantly and was writhing in agony because the artery had been deliberately avoided—stabbed to prolong the suffering as much as possible.
"...Tsk."
I clicked my tongue and drew my sword.
He was dying anyway.
Sending him off without pain would be the last mercy.
From the start, this scum had arrogantly invaded Kaltstein and swung his blade at a woman.
There was no reason to spare him.
Besides, delivering his head to the crown prince as a warning message wasn't a bad idea at all.
Just as I finished sorting through my thoughts and raised my sword to strike—
"W-Wait a minute!!"
Roselia cried out desperately.
"D-Duke! I... I know it's an utterly ridiculous request, but... please spare that man's life!"
"..."
I halted my swing, furrowed my brow, and turned to her.
"What are you talking about? This man is an assassin who breached my territory and tried to kill the princess. There's not a single reason to let him live."
"I know! I know, but... I can convince him. I can make him swing his dagger for you from now on, so please...."
Roselia's eyes were pleading.
But it was a pointless plea.
Once I'd decided to kill him and deemed him worthless to spare, a clean death was the right call.
How do you even persuade an assassin?
These vermin-like bastards wouldn't spill a word even if you flayed their flesh, ripped out their nails, and seared the wounds.
"Princess, I understand the sudden assault has your mind in turmoil. So let me explain once: traitors are traitors, and assassins are trash not worth sparing. Besides, this one's already been discarded by his own comrade."
"Exactly! That's why—because he's been discarded, I can pick him up and use him!"
Roselia shouted, veins bulging in her neck.
'Haa, I'm already on edge as it is, and she keeps interfering...'
Just as I could no longer hold back and was about to snap back at her—
Her next words made me hesitate.
"T-That man is one of the key figures in this story! So I can convince him. I can uncover how they knew about Kaltstein's panic room, and... root out every traitor inside the ducal family who aided this attack!"
"..."
Traitors inside.
Whether he was some important figure or not didn't matter much, but that phrase snapped me back to reason.
They surely couldn't have penetrated this deep without any information.
So there had to be accomplices, inside or out... but tracking them down now wouldn't be easy.
It would cost a fortune in time and resources.
But if this guy survived? And if Roselia could truly put a leash on him?
I mulled it over briefly, then sheathed my sword.
"...If we can make use of him, then he has plenty of value left to live."
"Then...!"
"I'll keep him alive for now. But it's nearly a fatal wound either way—high chance he'll still die."
I grabbed a hemostatic agent and basic first-aid kit from a drawer in the panic room's corner, then pressed down on the gash in the man's neck.
Fatal, yes, but since it hadn't been instant death, we could probably save him somehow.
"Rihella! Seria!"
At my shout, the two who had been covering the entrance came running.
"Yes, Your Grace!"
"Help the princess support Leonier. Get her to a doctor as fast as possible. Seria, after aiding the princess, handle the cleanup for the ducal household."
"Understood!"
Rihella and Seria sprang into action without hesitation.
The three women pooled their strength to carefully hoist the unconscious Leonier and carry her out.
I gazed down at the man sprawled on the floor.
'Who the hell is this guy that she calls him an important character...'
His hazy eyes, ragged breaths heaving his chest, stared dimly up at me.
"Tsk. Count yourself lucky. The princess just saved your sorry neck."
Once I confirmed the bleeding had fully stopped and the wound had closed, I slung him over my shoulder like baggage and stepped into the shadows.
Somehow, tonight felt far longer than any other.
Instead of the usual crisp night air, the infirmary reeked of blood and medicinal herbs.
After securely binding the man in a guest room, I had been slowly patrolling the interior to assess the damage to the ducal household.
Passing corridors that looked like battlefields, I entered the infirmary to hear pained groans echoing from every direction.
"Ugh...."
"P-Please, go easy."
"Unbelievable, really—cowardly bastards who only know how to swing daggers, and they hit that hard."
Fortunately, there were no fatalities.
But the situation was far from light.
Every bed held knights swathed head to toe in bandages, while doctors and nurses in bloodstained aprons hurried between them.
In one corner, bloodied servants and terrified young pages huddled together, clinging to one another.
The sight stirred an odd unease in me.
'Sigh... these people are blameless.'
I approached a young knight standing by one bed. He seemed relatively stable, shoulder bandaged but eyes sharp.
"How's the situation."
The knight spotted me and hastily saluted.
"Y-Your Grace! Forgive us—we failed to respond properly to their ambush...."
"Not your fault. No need for formalities; just lie down. That's an order."
I blocked his salute and physically pushed him into a chair. He looked flustered for a moment.
Then, in a trembling voice, he began recounting the events.
"They... appeared like shadows. Our encirclement was breached in seconds, but the men held them back desperately. The injured knights especially—they threw themselves in harm's way to shield the servants and children from the blades...."
"I see...."
It matched his description perfectly.
Most of the knights' wounds came from turning their backs or overextending to block attacks.
It meant they had staked their lives to minimize harm to the non-combatants.
"Well done."
I gave a short but heartfelt nod.
"I won't forget you and everyone who threw themselves into this without hesitation. No expense spared on your treatment—focus solely on recovery. Once you're fully healed, compile a list of those who distinguished themselves in this fight and send it up. Fitting rewards will follow."
"Th-Thank you! Your Grace!"
The knight's eyes welled up.
I patted his shoulder reassuringly before moving on.
Now, only one place left to check.
The private room where Leonier was receiving treatment.
Confirm she was on the mend, and I could call today's inspections done.
But as I walked the corridors, my mind was a tangled snarl of threads.
Intruders, internal traitors, and that man—one of the novel's key figures, apparently.
Mountains of puzzles to unravel.
Throb.
Feeling the headache return, I quickened my pace—when pain stabbed my heart again, just like before.
A horrific agony, like a massive spike being hammered in.
"Ugh...."
I halted, clutching my chest.
'Damn it, again.'
Now I was certain.
These sudden heart pains followed a clear pattern.
Every time Leonier was in danger, hurt, or suffering for any reason—my heart reacted.
As if her pain was transferring to me.
'So my suspicions were right...'
I steadied my ragged breathing and leaned against the wall.
Arkaios's words echoed in my ears.
[Burning regret.]
Most of the crucial hints had been too garbled to confirm, but he'd said I discarded something irreplaceable out of regret I couldn't bear.
What if that led to regression? And the source of that regret was the princess?
'My heart aches every time Leonier is hurt...'
What if the me from a past life—or a future one—loved her, just like Seria?
Unable to endure the grief and remorse of losing her, I turned back time?
'...Did I choose regression myself... for her?'
The thought made my heart plummet once more.
Still, it was all just hypothesis.
But if true, this pain wasn't mere discomfort—it could be self-inflicted punishment for failing to protect her.
"Haa... Feels like the incidents have been piling up ever since I became duke."
Lost in the whirl of thoughts, I suddenly found myself before the firmly shut door of her room.
My hand hesitated on the knob.
Not out of fear of facing her.
Simply because glimpsing that pale, dying woman from earlier again would make my heart ache beyond anything I'd felt before.
Of course, with no real choice, I drew a deep breath and slowly turned the handle.
Click.