Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Intermission: Night of the Short Knives (2)
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A little while ago.
"Breakfast's... Seven Jewels Pavilion?"
"Recite a haiku within seven steps to survive, something like that? What a skill."
Right after the clock struck midnight, I ended up chatting idly with Historie, feeling a bit dumbfounded.
And naturally.
"Really? You're really going to hit me?"
"Yeah."
I even tested it out myself.
"Hmm... Well, Kim Yul, you can be a bit cheeky at times, but I don't really feel like slapping you with any real emotion. It's like my emotion module's busted."
"Your words are harsh."
"I can't forgive you!"
Historie's heartfelt slap charged toward my cheek with that signature AI precision.
But.
Tap.
"Eh, wha—"
It was clearly coming straight at me, and I'd only taken a single light step forward.
Yet it whooshed through empty air and slammed right into my body with a full-on body check.
I wondered if one more step would dodge it too, but human compassion runs deeper than whatever passes for it in a tin can.
"...Thanks."
"You should probably dial back the intensity a notch."
"Got it."
My first experiment wrapped up in anticlimactic failure, right alongside the very first time I'd ever felt that soft, squishy sensation.
And after that.
"Boring pile of pretentious drivel."
"I'd sooner re-enlist in the army than read your crap."
"Even if the professor wrote it, it'd still be more fun than this."
The result of weathering soul-crushing insults and Historie's all-out barrage?
Over the course of those seven urgent steps, I mastered the art of completely evading any incoming physical damage.
"...You okay?"
"Do I look okay?"
"Nope."
It was info I never wanted to learn, but there was a cooldown too.
Roughly thirty minutes.
I learned that the hard way, with a perfect handprint etched on my cheek.
.
.
.
And now.
That instinctive step forward the moment I spotted the dagger had saved my life.
They say your brain kicks into overdrive when death looms, or maybe Hector's Courage was keeping my thoughts steady.
Even with clear death whizzing past me just now, I stayed calm enough to size up the situation.
Outfit screaming assassin.
Expression like some outdated fool.
And blatant hostility.
"Hoo."
Second attack, second step.
Unlike the over-the-top flourishes from action flicks, it was a crisp, highly trained motion.
She'd probably killed countless marks—a true pro assassin.
Third step, fourth.
Impatience got the better of me, so I pushed for a few more.
Finally, on the fifth step, after letting those split-second chances slip by.
"Hyaat!"
I swung my training wooden stick at the assassin's wrist.
Even by my reckoning, it was a mathematically flawless arc—one that would've earned a grinning thumbs-up from the lingering aura of Heracles' heroic spirit.
One tiny problem.
"Not bad."
A flash of white light coiled around the dagger's blade, extending it to slice my stick clean in half like tofu.
Hmm.
So that's the sword aura only peak masters can unleash.
Before the stick—and my body—turned into Kim Yul confetti, I took another step.
"Hyaah! Nureong-ah!"
I clutched the Nureong scale I'd turned into a necklace pendant and offered a desperate prayer.
That instant.
"Eek?!"
"Guh—"
Nureong plummeted from thin air, smashing the assassin flat—and at the exact same moment, my seventh step hit the ground.
And.
"What is thiiiis! Heracleseeee!"
Nureong's scream echoed down the street.
* * *
"Today's mamma is—!"
In a certain house near the train station in the imperial capital—the fastest spot to grab a paper.
Esthea was rolling around on the bed, warming up for her one true hobby: novel appreciation.
She was even savoring the texture of a proper bound volume for the first time in ages—not some newspaper serial.
It had been weeks of grabbing Ulysses by the collar and shaking.
- Phew... At least read this.
Just as you'd expect from a writer—give 'em a good shake, and something comes out. He'd finally caved to her aggressive pursuit and handed over a novel he'd published elsewhere back when he lived there!
Sure, it was a tragedy that Historie from the Nureong Response Squad was away, letting her devour every last bit of Kim Yul's precious stockpiled Nureong feed.
But to Esthea? Pure comedy.
Feed! Mamma!
"Unghihi."
Truth be told, the title hadn't hooked her.
Olympus Tales.
Couldn't even guess what it was about.
But if a dish had a weird name yet came from a chef whose other creations were gourmet delights, the contents were bound to be tasty too.
So she dove headfirst into the most mouthwatering subtitle: Heracles' Heroic Saga, devouring it with utter gusto.
And soon enough.
Flip flip...
Swish swish...
Thump thump!
The sounds of turning pages, wagging tail, and—every time she hit a satisfying part—tail smacking the blanket filled the quiet room.
Heracles! Love it!
Heracles! So cool!
With her Nureong-style reading method, she wolfed it down in no time, a satisfied smile blooming on her face.
"A man-eating horse...! What terrifying imagination!"
She even briefly pictured a monstrous steed devouring a dragon, lost in the fun.
But suddenly.
"Eh?"
Esthea felt her body get sliced through space and yanked somewhere.
Panicking at this first-ever experience in her life.
And understandably so.
It was the first time she'd ever gifted one of her scales in her long dragon life—and she never imagined Kim Yul would cash it in so soon.
The next moment.
Esthea was summoned into midair, still rolled up in her blanket like a burrito.
And.
"Eek?!"
With a ridiculous yelp, she mercilessly pancaked the guy right below her summon spot.
And.
"What is thiiiis! Heracleseeee!"
Unable to process the sudden shift, she burst out in outrage.
Turning feral like some protagonist from a gritty pulp novel, Esthea roared—but the very next instant.
"Kuh, even this...! Skipping the greetings!"
The man pinned beneath her suddenly wriggled free, lunged, and swung at her.
Or rather.
He tried to.
"What are you?"
"...!"
Up until the moment their eyes met and he froze solid like stone.
"Hmm."
She flicked her tail, smacking the insolent fool's cheek twice.
Esthea unleashed her draconic intellect and insight.
From the looks of things.
This guy had put Ulysses' life in danger, prompting him to borrow her scale's power and summon her.
Over one puny human.
One utterly worthless human.
"Novels are best read in sequence—!!!"
"Guh—"
The man's front teeth—his "corn"—went flying into the night sky.
.
.
.
"Exactly! A writer should stay home and write quietly—why'd you even go out!"
Esthea, using the unconscious Klappen as a chair, slammed her tail against the floor in a furious scolding.
Even after taking the dragon's wrath head-on.
"Even writers take walks sometimes."
Kim Yul scratched the back of his head sheepishly and replied.
The moment Esthea saw that and started cranking her rage meter higher.
"Ugh. This psychological stress is making me wanna take tomorrow off—"
"No waaaay!"
Esthea's fury evaporated in an instant.
Seconds later, tail wagging like Nureong's, she launched herself at Kim Yul and clung tight.
"Ulysses, a hiatus is a sin. It shouldn't even exist. Right? Riiight?"
She'd completely forgotten she was draped over a pathetic little human.
Kim Yul didn't let the opening slip.
"Hmm, well, if you do me two favors... I could probably manage a double chapter tomorrow."
"Dou... double!"
Her tail-wagging tripled in speed.
The perfect lure for a Nureong.
A bait only Kim Yul—who'd diligently observed Historie hauling the bubbly Esthea around and feeding her—could dangle.
"Kuh..."
Gazing down at the writhing assassin Klappen, moaning through his toothless gums.
"By any chance, oh great dragon... can you dominate a person's mind as well?"
Kim Yul laid on the utmost honorifics to maximize persuasion.
"Ehem! Naturally!"
The effect was tremendous!
"Then... could you shake this guy down and find out who ordered the hit?"
"Child's play!"
Esthea cleared her throat with an ehem, shot to her feet, and coiled her tail around Klappen in a flash.
She yanked the limp man right up to her face and placed a hand on his head.
And.
"Solam veritatem dicere debes—"
⟨ Truth Compulsion ⟩
Esthea's cheerful voice dropped an octave as a soul-rattling incantation poured from her lips.
Kim Yul's eyes widened slightly.
And.
Half-conscious Klappen's mouth cracked open, mangling out words.
"Berthuus... Duke... Did it..."
Slurred from the tooth-shattering impact, but Kim Yul caught every word.
"Berthus Duke, huh."
Kim Yul murmured the name in a low voice.
"Ehem! Shall this great dragon handle it for you?"
Esthea puffed out her chest, rumbling like she was about to unleash a breath attack.
But Kim Yul quietly shook his head.
"Revenge isn't something you outsource. I have to screw him over myself for it to count."
Kim Yul's eyes gleamed with a sinister, vicious glint—like he was picturing the advisor who'd rejected his dissertation.
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