Chapter 433
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 433
Chapter Title: I'll Kill You.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly sane. Don't try to frame me.”
Unlike Ekaterina, who was radiating a bone-chilling aura, Ainsha's response was the epitome of bluntness.
It was exactly as it had always been.
That was precisely why Ekaterina had no choice but to press her even more coldly.
“Then what the hell are you thinking, wanting to learn a demonic art like that?”
The Seventy-Two Martial Styles.
Seventy-two ultimate techniques devised by the seven dragons to pass down psionics to humanity.
A normal person could only master one, but achieving great success in it would turn them into an earth-shaking expert. In that regard, the Seventy-Two Martial Styles were astonishing martial arts.
However, some among them were dangerous ultimate techniques.
The Soul-Ensnaring Demonic Eye Style, which drove one mad unless they were the Black Dragon Princess.
The Indestructible Diamond Style, which hardened the organs unless one was the Green Dragon Princess.
The Solar Gang Qi Style, which reduced one to ashes unless they were the Red Dragon Princess, and so on.
Because they demanded such transcendent talent, merely attempting to acquire them could result in death or becoming a cripple. The Seven Dragon Society classified them as demonic arts and managed them strictly.
Even so, those ultimate techniques were still preferable.
After all, at least the princesses could learn them, and their utility was as exceptional as their danger.
Some elders even believed the seven dragons had created them solely for the princesses.
But there were certain styles that even the most optimistic among them hesitated to call anything other than demonic arts.
That was the Thousand-Mile Foresight Style.
The absolute worst forbidden art among the Seventy-Two Martial Styles, one that only the White Dragon Princess could learn—but no White Dragon Princess in history had ever dared to do so recklessly.
The reason was that the Thousand-Mile Foresight Style came with a fatal side effect that even the White Dragon Princess could not avoid.
None other than...
“You know that if your already deficient emotions dry up even further, your life itself will be in danger, right?”
...the gradual withering of emotions.
It was a simple yet all the more terrifying side effect.
For the White Dragon Princesses, who were already prone to emotional decline due to their foresight—often leading to suicide or wasting away—it was especially dire, and short lifespans were the norm.
But Ainsha impassively brushed off Ekaterina's admonition.
“Learning the Thousand-Mile Foresight Style doesn't necessarily mean the side effects will manifest.”
“You think the luck that was granted to only one White Dragon Princess in history will apply to you as well?”
“Yes.”
“...”
“Above all, to stop the Demon God without any casualties, the Thousand-Mile Foresight Style is essential.”
The method to stop the Demon God was only complete in theory.
No one knew what problems might arise in actual use.
To prevent a horrific catastrophe from even the smallest mistake, she needed to learn the Thousand-Mile Foresight Style herself.
Ekaterina's eyebrows shot up even higher at Ainsha's rare logical explanation.
“You're staking your life for humans who aren't even part of your clan? You think that makes any sense?”
“You've already done it. There's no reason I can't.”
“That was because I was crazy!”
“Then I'll be crazy too. Problem solved.”
“...”
What an utterly deranged conversation.
As Ciel, who had been watching, giggled under her breath.
Rimon, arms crossed and frowning just as deeply as Ekaterina, finally spoke in a low voice.
“Honestly, fool princess, I'm curious too.”
“Curious about what?”
“The reason you're willing to risk your life for people who aren't your clan or your subjects.”
In Ekaterina's case, at least it was understandable.
This country was her territory.
Obsessing over one's domain was instinct for the dragons' descendants, and she was a mad dictator who viewed even her citizens as possessions.
Even Rose would have nodded in agreement.
Just thinking of the previous-generation Blue Dragon Princess, who had sacrificed her life to stop the Demon God for the sake of justice—she would have stepped forward willingly.
But Ainsha was the White Dragon Princess.
The purest in the Seven Dragon Society, yes—but not compassionate enough to stake her life for complete strangers.
So why was she willing to make such a sacrifice? It was utterly incomprehensible.
That was why, the moment he heard Ainsha's blunt answer...
Rimon doubted his own ears.
“For Rimon.”
“...What did you say?”
Perhaps because the response was so unexpected.
Not only Rimon but even Ekaterina wore a bizarre expression.
Only Ciel watched with an intrigued look as Ainsha continued with her impassive face.
“I saw the future. If things continue like this, Rimon fights the Demon God, and casualties occur.”
The Demon God that veiled foresight.
Rimon who severed the future.
Because of the two, this country's future was a total mess, making prophecy utterly impossible.
But the world's greatest prophet, Ainsha, could still vaguely glimpse a few fragmented futures amid the chaos.
How many casualties there would be in the future.
And...
“In every future where casualties occurred, Rimon had a frightening look on his face.”
“...You're saying I'll regret slicing the Demon God and letting innocents die?”
“I don't know about that.”
She was merely a prophet.
She lacked the ability to read minds like Li Chingwei, so she couldn't know what emotions the future Rimon would feel.
After her blunt confession.
Ainsha continued.
“All I know is that Rimon wasn't smiling in any of those futures.”
“...”
“I don't want to see a Rimon like that. That's my reason.”
After hearing those words.
Rimon wore a complicated expression.
As if doubting his ears, unable to comprehend, unwilling to believe, his head throbbing.
A face indescribable with bewilderment, suspicion, absurdity, and shock all mixed together as he stared at Ainsha.
Finally, he asked.
“Right now... you're saying you're risking your life just to make me smile?”
To Rimon's question, which carried a rare look of confusion, Ainsha neither affirmed nor denied.
She simply opened her mouth with her blank expression.
“Rimon, I'm not smart.”
The biggest fool, even compared to Li Chingwei or the other princesses.
“I'm not strong or exceptional either.”
Not righteous like Rose.
Not delicate like Maia.
Not valiant like Hasneti.
Not capable like Ekaterina.
Not perfect like Charlotte.
The weakest in the Seven Dragon Society, inferior to the other princesses in every way despite sharing the same dragon lineage.
“I don't even know how to prove my qualification to be your bride.”
So she could understand if Rimon chose one of the other princesses instead.
As if in self-mockery.
In a voice utterly serene.
Blank and blunt.
Yet rather than cowed, it felt profoundly calm—almost proud—as the white-haired girl met Rimon's gaze head-on and declared.
“But no one surpasses my feelings for you.”
“...”
“So for you, Rimon, I'll do anything.”
Not for the people.
Not for Ekaterina.
To keep Rimon from becoming a butcher.
So that he wouldn't weary under the weight of blood, and could continue cynically mocking others and sneering coldly at the world as always.
Her own emotions.
Her very life.
She would stake them willingly.
As Rimon grew even more conflicted watching Ainsha speak without the slightest tremor.
Ekaterina let out a groan.
“Ainsha, you...”
The confession must have shocked her deeply.
She stared at Ainsha with a face as complicated as Rimon's, but only for a moment.
“You idiot, do whatever the hell you want!”
She bit her lip hard, bellowed, and stormed out of the tent.
In the end, the meeting concluded just like that.
They couldn't decide Russia's fate in Ekaterina's absence.
But Ekaterina herself had not the slightest intention of returning to the meeting.
She merely stood alone at a tree in the snowy expanse.
Hugging her knees on a branch, she muttered inwardly.
...Ainsha, you idiot.
The princesses of the Seven Dragon Society were pure existences.
Born from eggs inheriting the dragons' true blood, they had no true kin in the genuine sense.
Naturally, there was no such thing as family or sisters.
In that regard, viewing Ainsha as a little sister was ultimately just a game.
A way to enjoy Ainsha's overt dislike of her.
One of the hobbies she'd invented to barely maintain her sense of self amid the profound distortion of time.
Treating her like a little sister.
Cherishing her with affection and goodwill.
All of it was doll play to Ekaterina—manufactured emotions on the level of doting on a toy, something she could abandon at any time.
So there was no reason to get angry no matter what foolish thing Ainsha did.
She could just giggle at the stupidity, and if Ainsha really died, find a new toy.
...So why was this?
Upon hearing Ainsha declare she'd willingly court destruction for Rimon, she simply couldn't tolerate it.
A surge of irritation.
A suffocating frustration.
And some unfamiliar emotion.
It robbed even her—who could revel in her own death—of the ability to laugh.
That was why, her face devoid of its usual mirth unlike ever before, she glared out at the snowfield.
“You've gone quite far for a stroll.”
A low voice accompanied the appearance of a man.
Somehow knowing where to find her.
Rimon approached leisurely from the far snowfield, stopping only when he reached directly beneath the tree where Ekaterina perched.
Thud.
It wasn't particularly warm.
Nor clean.
Yet even so, he knelt on one knee in the snowdrift-covered ground and leaned his back against the tree trunk.
And gazed out at the snowfield just like Ekaterina.
Without a word or gesture.
As if he intended to maintain the silence forever.
That was why.
The silver-haired girl huddled on the branch had no choice but to speak first.
“...Oppa, you know, right?”
“Know what?”
“How much of an idiot my little sister is.”
She wasn't an idiot.
Words Ainsha would protest with her blank face if she heard—but Ekaterina stated them as if it were obvious.
No, as if that weren't enough, she continued.
“Pathetically helpless, stupidly cute in her idiocy, naively pitiful.”
Harsh words for one princess to say of another.
But there was no trace of mockery in them.
If anything, the opposite.
Only affection that made her cherish her all the more for her shortcomings, and frustration at her own powerlessness to do anything.
“But even my little sister wasn't always this stupid and frustrating. No, she used to guard her own safety meticulously.”
“...”
“You can't pretend you don't know why she ended up like this.”
Like blaming the scoundrel who had lured her once-naive little sister down a bad path.
She grumbled resentfully before continuing in a low voice.
“I won't say anything more useless.”
“You know better than I do what needs to be done first.”
“Just keep one thing in mind.”
Blame.
Like a single snowflake.
She leaped down from the branch.
Landed on the snow without leaving a footprint.
Ekaterina strode forward, coming right up to Rimon where he sat against the trunk.
And slowly bent at the waist.
Matching Rimon's eye level.
Grab!
She seized his collar.
Pulled him in with one yank.
From a distance where their noses nearly touched, she glared sharply at Rimon's face and whispered in a cold voice.
“If you make my little sister cry, I'll kill you.”
Whether he possessed dragon psionics.
Whether he was the invincible Sword Master.
Whether he was the man she'd fallen for.
None of it mattered.
Ainsha was her toy to play with exclusively.
After ruining her like that on his own whim, if he dared ignore her now, she'd stake everything she had to kill him.
After her icy declaration.
Ekaterina vanished in a flash of light.
As if to say she'd said her piece and there was no more time to waste.
Rimon stared intently at the empty space where the silver-haired girl had disappeared, then rose to his feet.
And opened his mouth.
“...Out of nowhere, I've got a little sister avenger on my hands.”
No matter how crazy she was, who else would threaten the Sword Master over a mere pretend little sister?
With a heavy sigh unlike his usual self.
Rimon turned around.
To take responsibility for the matter he'd put off for so long.