Chapter 94
Chapter 94
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: The Shadow's Lie
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“Aria von Wendinel...!”
Set, who had completely lost his cool after getting drenched by a water bomb, spotted the culprit and gradually reined in his emotions.
His opponent was the daughter of a minor duchy, but her family was anything but ordinary.
“...What is the meaning of this? I simply wanted to chat with Young Master Jerome, whom I'd just met for the first time today.”
“Chat?”
Pfft.
Aria let out a scoff dripping with mockery that anyone could see, then shot back accusingly.
“You just conjured flames in your hand, didn't you? Isn't that a blatant attack? Does the Osiris Kingdom conduct conversations by harming others like some barbaric nation?”
Whoa, that's a bit harsh.
I wasn't the only one who thought so—Set's expression had turned icy cold, unlike moments before.
Set could be arrogant, sure, but that didn't mean he held no love for the Osiris Kingdom.
In fact, he was such a patriot that he'd voluntarily sought out the Stigma Mercenary Corps to help rebuild the fallen kingdom.
“...You're going too far, Lady Aria. Can you take responsibility for those words?”
Fwoosh!
Aria didn't flinch in the slightest as Set ignited flames at his fingertips.
“Of course. Why don't you try that fancy fire of yours on me?”
Fwoosh!
Aria countered by summoning her own flames.
How did it come to this?
Aria von Wendinel, mage of the Holy Empire's Crimson Flame.
Set Vulcan, wielder of the Stigma Mercenary Corps' Sun Fire.
Before the Stigma Mercenary Corps' identity as rebels was exposed and they fell into the Empire's trap, gossips had endlessly debated which of these two—master of magic or wielder of heterogenous power—truly reigned supreme over fire.
In the end, no clear winner had emerged.
These two virtual rivals had crossed paths like this—fate worked in mysterious ways.
The two, flames roaring, stood on the brink of combat, but thankfully, it never erupted.
The banquet's hosts, royals of the Philador Kingdom, had made their entrance.
No matter how bold these scions of great houses might be, they couldn't exactly wreck the host's private chambers.
A white-haired elder burst into hearty laughter.
“Hahaha, it seems I've kept my esteemed guests waiting. I see you've already livened things up without me.”
His words were lighthearted, but they cut deep—like a polite reminder not to cause a scene in someone else's home.
The old man's name was Montmart Kan Philador.
He was the current king of the Philador Kingdom.
At the king's words, the eyes of the rowdy nobles from various nations naturally turned to him.
It seemed trivial, but he'd timed his entrance perfectly to seize everyone's attention.
Montmart... Not someone to underestimate.
Known as the cunning hero who'd sidelined his brothers to joyfully name Versailles as crown prince.
No, he wasn't one to take lightly.
Confirming the gathered gazes, King Montmart nodded toward Versailles.
As if on cue, Versailles stepped forward and bowed politely.
“Thanks to all of you gathering here, we've drawn the eyes of the kingdom's nobles. Allow me to express my gratitude on this occasion.”
Clap, clap, clap.
As the perfunctory applause faded, Versailles continued.
“Moreover, during this banquet we've hosted for various nobles, we've rooted out the spies planted by Marquis Midas' house. This is also thanks to our honored guests.”
Lies.
They'd discovered the spies long ago. They'd simply been waiting for the right moment to act.
Specifically, after the spies sent their final report: that many honored guests were gathered here, wasting time.
Yes.
Just like Marquis Midas had done.
“We confirmed the spies from Marquis Midas' house sent intelligence yesterday. Accordingly, our royal house has dealt with them today... and we will launch our advance on Nile while the marquis' house lets its guard down.”
Marquis Midas' forces had begun their march yesterday morning.
The day he'd planned to start was three days from then.
In other words, two days from now.
“The day of reckoning for Nile is three days hence.”
Versailles spread three fingers.
“On that day, the royal knights and kingdom army will advance. Until then, we kindly ask our guests to refrain from external communication for security reasons.”
Three days from now.
The day to seize the walls was set.
Tap, tap, tap.
Miron finally couldn't stand the incessant rhythm of my fingers drumming the desk and asked.
“Young master, is something bothering you? You've seemed deep in thought ever since we returned from the banquet.”
“No matter how I turn it over, something feels off.”
“...?”
Miron looked at me in utter confusion.
Sorry, no time to explain right now.
I spread out a sheet of paper and jotted down Versailles' actions and words.
1. Versailles requested that honored guests from various nations refrain from external communication for the next three days, citing security.
2. Versailles suspects I might be aligned with Marquis Midas' house.
...Exactly, it contradicts.
These two facts revealed the inconsistency in Versailles' behavior.
At first glance, it might seem like he'd confined all the guests—not quite confinement—to sever any link between me, the suspicious Nile connection, and Marquis Midas.
But then there's no need to specify three days. 'For the time being' would satisfy most nobles. They didn't come without knowing why they'd been invited by Versailles in the first place.
Yet he'd pinpointed three days...
The implication was clear. Dwayne would have put it bluntly.
-It's a trap. One designed to catch two rabbits.
They'll probably march sooner. That's undeniable.
Having learned I'd visited Nile, the Philador Kingdom would undoubtedly accelerate.
First, if I was colluding with Nile, they could launch a surprise before we prepared.
Second, if not, they'd prioritize crushing Marquis Midas ahead of me to secure the Flower Wheel.
Either way, moving faster than three days made sense.
That much was solvable... but the rest was the problem.
No matter how I think, I can't tell if it's one day or two.
Whether they moved a day early or two would change where the kingdom army ambushed Marquis Midas' forces.
Miron and I had to disrupt their formation instead of seizing walls, timed perfectly.
Tap, tap, tap.
...If they march a day early, Vint Plains. Two days early, Mazino Fortress. Nothing else fits.
The interception point Versailles aimed for against Marquis Midas—plains or fortress?
Probably this one.
After agonizing, I picked one spot.
Versailles the Degenerate Prince, King Montmart the Cunning Hero. Considering the scheming nature of Philador's royals.
Kandar—no, Dwayne—would reach the same conclusion.
But I wasn't the peerless strategist Kandar.
I needed final verification for my choice.
“...Looks like I need an answer key after all.”
Miron's eyes sharpened at 'answer key.'
He whipped out a hidden dagger from his bosom and hurled it at one wall.
Whoosh!
“!”
Thud!
Incredibly, the flickering shadow from the candlelight stretched unnaturally, dodging the blade.
The shadow began solidifying to flee the room, but...
“Not so fast.”
I was quicker.
Thump!
“Guh! How did you sense my presence...!”
“Oh, obviously from the start. You've been tailing me like a rat since we arrived yesterday, haven't you?”
I seized the shadow's throat as it materialized, slammed it to the floor, and twisted its wrist.
Crack!
“!!”
Even as bones shattered horrifically, the shadow merely widened its eyes, silent.
“Huh, pretty tough. As expected of Versailles' precious Shadow Assassin, eh?”
“...You bastard, how...!”
The shadow, which hadn't groaned through the bone-crushing pain, reacted to the title Shadow Assassin.
So he'd already built his power by this point. Sneaky bastard.
“Anyway, never mind that. Time to spill your master's thoughts.”
“Think a mere threat will make me talk?”
“Yep. I'll make you. Don't worry.”
I released the twisted wrist, then gripped and crushed the shadow's fist.
Crack!
“...Gaaah... Mmph!”
He was no doubt well-trained against torture, but raw agony like this? Unlikely.
Miron swiftly clamped the shadow's mouth to muffle screams.
“Now, talk. When does your master Versailles plan to march? Today? Or tomorrow?”
“I... I don't know...!”
The assassin's eyes still burned defiant. I nodded approvingly.
“Loyal to the end for your lord—admirable stance. I'd praise an enemy for it normally.”
Crunch!
This time, I shattered his left shin with Pankration's Iron Leg Strike.
“...!!”
“Sorry, but we've got a lot riding on this too. Can't afford to admire that loyalty long.”
Two limbs crushed.
He'd never function as a shadow again after this mission.
“Now, talk. Do, and I'll let you go easy.”
“I... I don't know...!”
Hmm. Tougher than expected.
“Think about it. Would your lord Versailles, whom you serve so faithfully, care for a broken tool like you?”
“...!!”
Versailles was capable, no doubt. But he lacked the charisma to match.
Hence the flicker in those eyes at my words.
Whip cracked hard—now for the carrot.
Clink!
A heavy pouch dropped before the shadow's eyes with a thud.
“This should cover healing up and settling somewhere new. Easy choice, right? When and where is Versailles marching? Just that, and you're free.”
Freedom and gold promised, his eyes wavered violently.
“...You'll really let me go?”
“Of course! I swear on the House of Carviot.”
Swearing on a noble house seemed to breed some trust—or maybe the pouch's allure won out. Either way.
After a tense silence, the assassin spoke.
“...The march isn't in three days. It's two. We've already tracked the marquis' forces heading to the capital. Plan's to torch Vint Plains and annihilate them with fire.”
“...Hmm.”
I eyed the assassin, greed gleaming in his gaze, then nodded.
“Good! Thanks. I'll keep my word and spare you. But stay put till it's over.”
I pressed key points on his body. It stiffened like wood.
Pankration's secret art: Acupoint Seal, blocking mana circuits to paralyze movement.
Not enough—I bound him tight before relaxing.
Turning from the assassin, Miron and I slipped quietly from the room.
“Young master, why move so soon? If he's telling the truth, shouldn't we stay put till tomorrow?”
Miron worried I'd move too fast and get caught by Philador forces instead.
“Not wrong. If the kingdom army's really heading to 'Vint Plains.'”
“What do you mean?”
Miron blinked in bewilderment. Hadn't he just said Vint Plains?
“Shadow Assassins don't betray their lord for pocket change. Their families are hostages to the crown, and their enforced loyalty isn't that frail.”
Plus those greedy eyes on the pouch?
Faking avarice, but the depths stayed ice-cold.
My merchant-honed insight.
“He named Vint Plains on purpose. And Versailles likely calculated even getting caught.”
The assassin's act solidified my 'answer key.'
“Then why move now...?”
“Exactly.”
I nodded.
“They're not marching in two days. Tomorrow. Tomorrow's the day.”
So we had to move now.
Slipping secretly from the palace with Miron, I hurried toward our destination.
Mazino Fortress.