Chapter 170
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 170
Chapter Title: Fools
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ainsa was the White Dragon Princess.
From the moment she was born, she had lived her life reading the future as naturally as breathing, gifted with the essence of psychics.
To her, reality was no different from a dull play—merely the predetermined visions unfolding exactly as foreseen.
But in this moment.
The scene unfolding before her eyes was more than enough to shatter her worldview entirely.
"......Why?"
Before Rimon's sword could pierce her.
That Tata would block his path, taking the blade in her place.
That the sword, thrusting forward as if to pierce anything in its way, would suddenly halt in midair.
And......
"Why on earth?"
That Rimon would catch with his bare hand the thread she had unconsciously unleashed, instead of slicing it with his blade.
His hand bled from grasping the silken thread infused with psychic power strong enough to form a dragon's shape.
Yet Rimon paid it no mind.
He simply met the dazed gaze of Ainsa with his golden eyes and spoke calmly.
"You'll find the answer in your current position."
Ainsa instinctively checked.
Despite her desperate intent to kill Tata.
When the girl had leaped before the blade, she had reflexively shielded her, stepping forward in her place.
It was incomprehensible.
She was the most noble White Dragon Princess of the White Dragon Clan.
Especially since she had yet to produce an heir, her life held more value than the entire clan combined.
No one knew this better than she did, so such recklessness was utterly impossible.
As if reading her confusion.
Rimon smirked and said,
"You probably don't even know why you're standing there right now."
"......"
"But foolish princess, not everything in the world needs a complicated reason."
To the girl too accustomed to living reality aligned with the future she foresaw.
So accustomed that she couldn't act without a reason, Rimon spoke gently.
"Just like how your resolve to kill the traitor and face me, or to slay me for your clan and alter the future, were all excuses you tacked on."
"......They're not excuses. It's the truth."
"Don't lie."
Rimon cut her off firmly.
No matter how vital disposing of the traitor was, it didn't justify risking confrontation with him.
Likewise, even if Tata was an elder of the clan, she couldn't compare to the fated partner tied to the princess's very survival.
She had merely pretended to be rational.
In truth, rationality had been absent from Ainsa's actions from the start.
And Rimon could roughly guess the true cause.
"In the end, you just like your nanny that much and were equally upset about it."
Her stoic demeanor hid it well.
But Ainsa valued Tata more than her fated partner, so she tried to change the future.
She had been angry at Tata for recklessly trying to die.
And ultimately, shielded her.
To Rimon, who pinpointed the emotional drive behind her actions—stripped of all logic and calculation—Ainsa retorted,
"I deny that. I'm not a child."
"But you're a fool."
"I'm not a fool either."
"No, you are."
Rimon neatly dismissed her denial.
And peered into the girl's eyes, which trembled uncontrollably despite her expressionless face.
"What else would you call a fool so fixated on the future that she can't even understand her own present emotions?"
He could tell just from her eyes.
Ainsa wasn't emotionless.
She was so used to suppressing them that she had forgotten she was capable of feeling at all.
Thus, she was the foolish princess.
Among fools who lived only for the future, she was the supreme idiot, blindest to reality.
To Rimon, who mocked her thus, Ainsa asked stoically,
"......I want to know what exactly you want from me."
"What I want? Simple."
Rimon didn't bother with verbose explanations.
He merely glanced toward her back.
"For you to look behind you."
"......"
Ainsa slowly turned at his words.
The one who had shielded her.
The one she had shielded in turn.
The woman who, unable to interject due to their positions, fidgeted anxiously, worried for her.
Gazing at Tata, she hesitated.
Normally, there would be no need to hesitate.
She would simply speak, act, and choose as her foresight dictated.
But with her immediate future blinded by the aftermath of Rimon tearing it apart, she didn't know what to say.
"Tata."
Instead, Ainsa felt it.
The faint tremors she had never noticed, buried under futures read by foresight.
Amid the torrent of anxiety, impatience, and relief, she realized.
What Rimon wanted to tell her.
Thus, not to follow or alter the future, but for the first time, she voiced what she truly wanted to say right now.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
Tata's eyes widened.
In shock, or perhaps bewilderment.
For a moment, she stared blankly at Ainsa.
Then her face twisted, and she burst out as if she couldn't hold back any longer.
"That's what I should be asking! Why did you do something so reckless?!"
From her torn clothes everywhere to the bruised skin.
Though no sword wounds, Ainsa's state was far from unscathed, and Tata sighed in lament.
"I could have just died! If you hadn't tried to change the future, Your Highness could have been happy!"
"Wrong."
"What's wrong about it?"
"The futures gained by killing you hold no happiness for me."
"That can't be. In the futures I saw......"
"Tata, look at me."
Ainsa cut her off.
She cupped Tata's cheeks with both hands, locking eyes, and continued softly.
"My happiness is decided by me, not the future."
"......!"
"And I treasure the happiness you give me by your side far more than any happiness the future decrees."
That she wasn't unhappy.
So don't pity her.
Don't make her present self unhappy for the sake of future happiness.
Tata stared vacantly at Ainsa, who enveloped her with warm hands beneath that expressionless face and stoic voice.
As if about to speak.
Or unsure what to say.
Her lips trembled wordlessly for a long while before she finally opened them.
"......Sister Rahasha."
She flinched at the name that slipped out unconsciously.
"No, Mother Krusha."
Unable to hold back, another name escaped.
"Do you truly believe you can only be happy with Tata... no, with me by your side?"
Tata gazed at her with trembling eyes, born of anxiety or some other reason.
To the woman who was her nanny, but before that an aunt, and once a younger sister and daughter, Ainsa answered without a hint of hesitation.
"Of course, Tatasha."
At that moment, hearing the name she had abandoned since becoming Ainsa's nanny, and the words she had longed for yet never heard over endless ages.
Tata clung to her like a child to a parent and burst into tears.
Clang.
Rimon sheathed his sword.
Wiping the blood from his now-healed hand, he chuckled.
'Fools are fools. They never get it unless you spell it out.'
This was why the White Dragon Clan was such a hassle.
Impossibly troublesome as enemies, but even more exasperating as allies.
Still, they weren't without merits.
Once they understood, they accepted it with a refreshing honesty rare even in the Seven Dragon Society—a foolishness turned talent.
That was why he had sheathed his blade.
If she hadn't known, it would be one thing. But now that she had seen her own heart beyond the future, Ainsa wouldn't try to kill Tata, and Tata wouldn't throw away her life.
Tata was safe.
The predestined future had changed.
His sword had fulfilled its role.
Of course, that didn't mean his own tasks were complete.
Murmur murmur.
"Tch, couldn't just let it slide, huh?"
Gazing down at the chaotic crowd still staring at the ceiling and the filming set where the broadcast had all but halted, Rimon clicked his tongue.
Well, if they remained oblivious even after a dragon rampaged overhead, they'd be goldfish, not people.
"......No helping it."
Rimon sighed.
He had prevented Tata from ruining the broadcast, but there was no real obligation to preserve the music challenge anyway.
His purpose in intervening had already been achieved.
And having averted the future where Tata died, he could slip away without a care if some show got canceled.
But......
'Can't become the kind of bastard who doesn't own up to his own mess.'
Seeing Kim Seungjun pale like a corpse from yet another broadcast mishap, Rimon shook his head.
He swept back his hair, changed his appearance, shouldered the duffel bag discarded in a corner, and leaped down to the stage.
Thud!
"Wh-who are you?"
"We're live broadcasting right now......"
Ignoring the flustered host gawking at him as if he'd dropped from the sky.
He simply pulled an item from the duffel bag.
As Kim Seungjun's eyes bulged and he barked urgent orders, the host scrambled to direct attention from cameras and audience alike.
Rimon rested the Violin of Blackness on his shoulder and took up the bow.
Ziiiiing.
And moments later.
A chilling melody devoured every sound in the world.
While hugging and soothing Tata, Ainsa watched Rimon begin his performance intently.
And she heard his true playing—on a level beyond any recording, enough to make viewers forget the recent accident entirely.
Thus, she understood.
Not just why he was doing this, but so much more.
"......He's a fool."
He kept calling them fools, but to Ainsa, he was no better—unable to act cleverly himself.
Whether his nosiness in bothering to teach fools.
His stubbornness in taking responsibility on their behalf and stepping onto the stage.
Or his idea to resolve everything with sheer musical skill.
None were smart choices.
Yet it didn't seem merely foolish—perhaps because he was the Sword Duke, or for other reasons.
Gazing at him thoughtfully, Ainsa suddenly placed a hand on her chest.
Confirming the pulse—stronger and clearer than ever before, though familiar.
She let out a soft chuckle.
"And so am I."
It was 'soon' after all.
Chuckling at her own foolishness for not realizing sooner that she had already fallen in love, Ainsa quietly spoke.
"Tata, I'll be going."
"......Yes, Your Highness. Leave the aftermath to me and go with peace of mind."
For a brief moment, stunned by the faint smile on Ainsa's ever-expressionless face.
Tata soon smiled herself and let her go.
Almost mimicking Rimon.
Ainsa leaped to his side.
In front of the entranced crowd, staff, and cameras watching Rimon's performance, she removed her paperboy cap.
"Huh......?"
"Wha? What the......?"
The moment her snow-white hair cascaded free.
The two hosts, staff, audience, and viewers all gaped in shock.
Few had seen her in person, but nearly everyone knew that face.
Yet Ainsa ignored their reactions.
She simply looked at Rimon quietly.
'What are you doing here?'
'Taking responsibility.'
'Got what it takes?'
'You'll see.'
The girl known more for other titles despite being the White Dragon Princess.
In the Holy Alliance rife with religious strife, the priestess who mediated even the gods' battles with her song alone.
The non-player perpetually ranked among the world's top singers.
The Singing Whiteness, Ainsa.
After exchanging intents through glances alone, confirming Rimon's smirk and nod, she swallowed lightly.
Her pink lips parted.
The moment Ainsa began to sing.
The world, silenced by the melody, was overlaid with an explosive new sound.
A harmony deeper and more beautiful than even when Rimon played with Eugene—piercing straight to the heart.
It was the moment the Music Challenge was cemented as a global hit.
And the moment its counterpart performer, the Violinist of Blackness, revealed himself to the world for the first time.