Chapter 67
Chapter 67
Translation: godsn
"But if that's the case, wouldn't it be better to just eliminate one minister? Killing everyone in the mansion seems..."
"I'd prefer that too! But Father won't allow me to kill that crazy bastard, so what am I supposed to do!"
Samon exploded in anger.
"Etienne, that son of a bitch needs to be made an example of. I'll show him that anyone who crosses Samon—even Father's strongest right-hand man—will live to regret it!"
Yet the Shadow clicked his tongue inwardly.
How could a minor duke of the empire speak so casually about innocent lives being taken?
Despite his delicate appearance, his master was an extremely cruel and cowardly man.
Too spineless to confront the minister directly, he resorted to these underhanded methods—hardly the mark of a magnanimous person.
But the Shadow knew his place. A dog only needed to obey its master's commands.
"Understood."
After all, if he didn't, he'd be the one boiled alive.
Count Etienne's residence, the minister's office.
Medeia, who had entered first, engaged in a silent grapple with her opponent, their bodies rolling across the floor.
Just then, a magic circle flared blue and swallowed Medeia whole.
A sensation like falling from a cliff enveloped her entire body before—
Thud! She tumbled onto damp, muddy ground. The pungent scents of grass and stagnant water assaulted her nose.
But the magic circle had transported not just Medeia, but the man still tangled with her.
There was no time to assess their new surroundings.
Pinning him beneath her, Medeia put her full weight into driving the flying dagger embedded in his shoulder even deeper.
Her opponent, unfazed, wrapped his uninjured arm around her throat.
His dull, emotionless eyes revealed nothing—only the detached consideration of whether to crush an insect or let it live. The gaze of someone intimately familiar with killing.
In that fleeting moment, the piercing golden eyes visible through his mask struck Medeia as oddly familiar. Without thinking, she murmured:
"Aka...res?"
The hand at her throat hesitated.
In an instant, their positions reversed. Now he loomed over Medeia.
Rustle. His rough hand tore away her mask as if peeling off a scab.
Her pale face was exposed. A handful of silver hair, loosened by his rough handling, spilled across the blackened ground.
Cesare gazed down at Medeia with a chilling look.
"Long time no see, Princess."
A slow, muffled voice leaked from behind his mask.
He made no attempt to deny it—still threatening her throat, he readily admitted his identity.
"So the noble blood of Valdina enjoys moonlight strolls in such... unconventional places?"
Though they stood in a damp, stinking marsh, he greeted her as casually as if they'd met at a banquet.
"I don't waste courtesy on royalty."
At Medeia's indifferent retort, Cesare let out a hollow laugh.
This pint-sized princess showed no trace of fear, even cornered.
Her haughty face spouting arrogance was equally irritating and... oddly endearing. He couldn't decide which.
Medeia studied Cesare in turn.
Instead of the iron mask a mercenary should wear, he only had a cloth covering. Hadn't he concealed his face due to burn scars?
If not, then there must be another reason he couldn't show his face—perhaps connected to why he'd infiltrated the minister's mansion?
"Sorry, but letting you go isn't an option."
Just then, his straight fingers tapped lightly against her throat, as if reminding her this wasn't the time for speculation.
"I don't leave witnesses alive."
The pressure around her neck increased.
Though his languid voice carried amusement, his eyes gazing down at her were merciless.
He fully intended to kill her and eliminate any future repercussions.
"And if I refuse to talk?"
Medeia asked flatly. Her jade eyes showed neither fear nor defiance.
"You're proposing a bargain even now?"
"We both have reasons to keep tonight's events buried."
As Valdina's princess, she too wouldn't want her covert visit to Etienne's mansion exposed.
Medeia's point was rational and sound. With mutual leverage, the terms of negotiation seemed fair.
For a brief moment, Cesare's eyes narrowed as if intrigued.
Medeia drew a crossbow from her robes. Her movements were astonishingly swift.
With an expressionless face, she aimed and fired at Cesare in one fluid motion.
Swish—! A sharp sound split the air.
Yet it did not strike its mark.
As if he had anticipated her counterattack, Cesare not only dodged the bolt but seized the crossbow itself and flung it aside.
The arm that had thrown the crossbow now twisted around, pinning both her wrists to the floor.
Cesare lowered his head. The distance was so close that Medeia could see her own reflection in his golden eyes.
"Don't mistake me for some half-wit like the Regent, Princess."
At the mention of the Regent, her emerald eyes widened for the first time.
"Who would have guessed that Pinatelli, the Queen Dowager, even Etienne—all of them are dancing in the palm of your foolish little hands? Princess, you may deceive everyone in Valdina, but not me."
His voice dripped with arrogance and confidence. His fingers pressed against the pulse point in her neck, tapping rhythmically.
"If you die here, all of it will be for nothing."
Pressure tightened around her throat. Was this truly the end? Medeia's gaze darkened.
She wasn't afraid of death. But—
Screech—!
At that moment, something black erupted from the floor to their right.
A serpent with a triangular head lunged at Medeia, still pinned beneath Cesare.
The creature had been watching the intruders for some time.
Driven by bestial instinct, it targeted the easier prey between the two.
Just as its jagged fangs spread wide to sink into Medeia's throat—Cesare's arm shot out.
Schlick—! A flash of silver.
The serpent's head tumbled away, black blood soaking the ground. A few ominous droplets slid down Cesare's blade.
"......"
Medeia stiffened, stunned.
Why... did he save me?
The snake had clearly been aiming for her, not him.
Screech—! Screech—!
But there was no time to dwell on it. From the decapitated serpent's body, new heads sprouted.
Unbelievably, two heads now grew from a single neck.
The twin heads recoiled, hissing, their obsidian eyes glaring at Cesare—the one who had severed their kin—as they slithered backward into the swamp.
Simultaneously, eight more heads rose from the murky depths.
In an instant, the creatures bared their fangs, radiating murderous intent toward the intruder who had effortlessly slain one of their own—something they had never encountered before in this place.
"...A Hydra."
Medeia murmured the name.
The secret of the extra-dimensional space Etienne had hidden. The reason everyone had entrusted the Signature Document to him without hesitation.
It was because this place was guarded by the legendary magic beast—the Hydra.
"There is a magic circle in my study that leads to the hiding place of the Signature Document. However, that place is..."
Etienne had claimed that this legendary beast, smuggled in illegally and raised from infancy, obeyed only him.
"You brought a magic beast into this sacred land protected by the Philosopher's Stone? Are you out of your mind?"
Had he not been behind bars at the time, Medeia might have strangled him then and there.
"I—I know. I am aware of my sins. But I have placed a restriction ensuring it can never leave this extra-dimensional space. The beast will never be unleashed upon Valdina. The only issue is... retrieving the Signature Document it guards without my direct command is... difficult."
"Ha. Some 'land of protection' this is."
Facade's mercenary had scoffed at the time.
He showed neither surprise nor fear at the mention of the Hydra.
If anything, he seemed disgusted by the minister's audacity—raising a monster in an extra-dimensional pocket.
"Pathetic, inside and out."
His mockery carried a biting contempt for the crumbling state of Valdina, where even a mere vassal could dare such recklessness.
Behind the Hydra's fully exposed body, a shimmering white orb came into view.
Floating untouched above the swamp's surface, inside the orb lay a carefully preserved scroll.
The Signature Document.
Medeia's emerald eyes flashed.
She shoved Cesare aside and sprang to her feet, snatching up the crossbow he had thrown away earlier.
Without hesitation, she charged toward the Hydra lurking deep in the swamp—
"Have you lost your mind?"
A hand seized her arm.