Chapter 7
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Hard Day Pretending to Be Human
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But that lasted only a moment. His killing intent vanished in an instant. Then, wearing that serene smile once more, he spoke.
"Ha ha, it might just be the chill in the air."
The fact that he'd witnessed me getting a nosebleed right in front of him must have been quite humiliating, yet he didn't let it show.
It was acting worthy of someone from a prime minister's family.
Part of me wanted to wipe that infuriating smile off his face, but I held back.
I was aware that the holy power inside the carriage was stoking my anger even more.
'The holy power is fanning my emotions. I need to hold it together.'
Demons and holy power were natural opposites, of course. Just being exposed to it made me feel disgusted, my emotions flaring up.
It was like being wrapped in filth-filled trash.
At that moment, the carriage began to move. Using motion sickness as an excuse, I opened the window and savored the outside breeze.
Loreil, who had been watching me quietly, then asked.
"By the way, Your Highness, haven't you fully recovered yet? Seeing you collapse so suddenly worried me."
"......I'm fine. It's just a chronic condition."
"I hope you make a full recovery. Only then will His Imperial Majesty see you again."
I responded with a smile instead of words.
Even as I did, I tried to read his intentions.
'He doesn't plan to bring up the mana incident.'
If he asked directly about what happened yesterday, I planned to brush it off vaguely. There wasn't enough evidence or justification to accuse the princess.
But instead of half-hearted probing, he opted for all-out confrontation.
'Not just careful observation—he's going to confirm it himself.'
Preparing this extravagantly expensive carriage overnight was proof of that.
It was ruthless, but rational. Better to create evidence directly than bicker without any.
'Of course, I'm no low-rank demon who falls for something like this.'
I leaned back demonstratively against the chair dyed with holy water. This level of holy power didn't even sting.
If only this would dispel his suspicions about me.
"Come to think of it, the imperial family attends the temple every year for His Imperial Majesty's New Year's address, don't they? Does Your Highness attend as well?"
Mentioning the temple so slyly made his suspicions seem even stronger.
I forced a bitter smile as I replied.
"Who knows? I want to go more than anything, but since coming to the detached palace, I've never been invited to family events."
Not expecting that response, Loreil's eyes trembled slightly.
He quickly composed himself and apologized politely.
"My apologies. That was thoughtless of me."
"No, it's fine."
To sincerely apologize over something like this—what an odd person.
An awkward silence followed. Fortunately, the carriage soon arrived at the venue.
'Come to think of it, how many years has it been since I left the imperial palace?'
I'd longed to escape the palace so badly back then, but now that I was out, it felt anticlimactic. The gates I'd thought so distant and impenetrable had been crossed so easily. Why had they seemed so far away before?
"Your Highness?"
"Ah, yes."
I took Loreil's hand again and stepped down from the carriage. As soon as we did, he handed me a hat adorned with a veil.
"The sun's strong. Please wear this."
"Thank you."
'He does have some consideration.'
He meant to hide my eyes, not just block the sun. My navy hair was secondary; those platinum eyes would surely cause a stir if spotted.
I silently put on the hat and followed his lead.
"This way to the arena."
Loreil guided me inside.
The coliseum looked exactly as described in books: a massive circular arena ringed by countless spectator seats.
Fitting for the empire's most popular event, it was a grand facility.
A staff member at the entrance tried to stop us but backed away hastily upon noticing the crest on the carriage.
'Status really is convenient.'
And his manners were considerate without being overbearing.
He would have been perfect if he hadn't set that sewer-trap ambush.
Hiding my inner regret, I ascended the stands with him. Just then, I spotted the competitors warming up in the arena.
"Are those the participants?"
"Yes. The eight fighters who'll compete over the event period."
The fighters wore ornate armor. Unlike the brutal matches, they resembled knights.
'They don't look particularly skilled.'
As I roughly gauged their abilities, someone caught my eye in the corner, tending to their gear alone.
Rusty, grimy armor—and especially a helmet faded to a dull hue—stood out.
"Is that one a fighter too?"
"Ah, the Helmet Fighter knight."
"Helmet Fighter?"
An unusual nickname. As I voiced my curiosity, Loreil tilted his head as if recalling, then explained.
"To prevent fatal injuries, all fighters wear helmets covering their faces completely. So they favor flashy armor to express themselves."
As he said, the other fighters' helmets had flowers on top or gold leaf on the cheeks—elaborately decorated.
"But that one has never changed their helmet design once. They've only ever used the basic one provided by the arena."
"Hence Helmet Fighter?"
"Not just that. They say she's never shown her face to the crowd either."
Perhaps thinking I was interested, Loreil briefly outlined the Helmet Fighter's record.
In summary, the longest career but no medals, always losing big matches.
That dishonor ironically boosted her popularity, leading to the mocking nickname among the crowds.
Having heard the explanation, I thought she sounded unique and looked away.
That instant.
'Wait, that ornament at her waist......'
One decoration dangling from the Helmet Fighter's armor caught my eye.
A black-maned lion brooch with a tiny dagger in its mouth.
Very familiar to me......
'No way. It can't be.'
The moment I saw the crest, my heart pounded fiercely.
Rubbing my eyes and looking again, the shape hadn't changed.
The black lion symbolizing the Demon King. The dagger of warriors fighting for demons. Fused into the general's crest.
Its identity was...
'My crest.'
The symbol of my past life, Asmo-Dina.
I kept watching, wondering if it was coincidence, but the mane and eyes matched perfectly.
'Only my subordinates or vassals among demons would have that......'
There couldn't be one in the human world.
I couldn't comprehend what was happening and froze in shock. Just then, a staff member entered the arena and gathered the fighters.
"Alright, we'll begin the practice match. Everyone, get ready—"
'Practice?'
Noticing my gaze, Loreil glanced at the arena before moving and explained.
"They hold a practice match to check conditions before the main event. Interested in watching?"
"......Yes."
Loreil seemed surprised I wanted to watch. Ignoring him, I sat and stared at the arena. His suspicions could wait; confirming that crest's owner came first.
"Now, split into west and east sides for the match......"
The practice match proceeded.
I couldn't close my mouth at the absurd results.
'Truly...... creatively terrible.'
In short, the Helmet Fighter had real talent. Unlike the others lacking stamina, she showed potential to be a decent soldier with proper training.
Yet her practice record was dismal.
She won about three out of ten, but losses were utter humiliations.
Sword sent flying, shield dropped, rolling disgracefully—it gave me a headache.
'Why fight like that with such skill?'
Anger bubbled up.
If I were Asmo-Dina, I'd yell at her to shape up and retrain her.
"Your Highness? Something troubling you?"
"No...... Nothing."
Unable to reveal my true feelings to Loreil, I shook my head with a forced smile.
I clenched my fist tightly once more at her pathetic defeat.
Even in loss, she didn't seem frustrated.
'Wearing my crest with that laughable skill.'
I'm human. Not a demon. Repeating that didn't help; I couldn't forgive such incompetence.
That weak recruit Helmet Fighter stirred memories of my instructor days.
'The captain is disappointed in you.'
The soldier's spirit (Asmo-Dina) in my heart fiercely demanded I train her.