Chapter 92
Chapter 92
Translation: godsn
His exposed collarbones, sharp jawline, and the elegant curve of his lips forming a perfect smile were captivating enough to make people pause mid-step.
If not for the scars, that man would have left his name etched across the continent, the banquet attendees found themselves thinking anew.
Of course, he was already famous in other ways.
'Akares, was it?'
Jared immediately recognized the white mask.
This was the mercenary from Facade—the one whose strength had been so incessantly praised by the princess's handmaiden earlier, much to his irritation.
'Hmph, what nonsense. He doesn't even look that strong.'
Due to the First Prince's schemes, Jared had fallen out of the Emperor's favor and was barred from participating in the continental war.
Yet this mercenary had been active on the battlefield. An inexplicable competitive spirit flared within him.
Jared's dark eyes gleamed as he fixed his gaze on the white-masked mercenary.
The Fourth Imperial Princess was equally taken aback.
Why was Facade suddenly interfering in the duel between Kazen and Valdina?
"That was a mistake, wasn't it? Facade has no stake in this matter."
The princess did not want Facade's involvement.
She looked to Gallo as if seeking an answer, but he had nothing to offer either.
Gallo was just as frustrated.
How the hell should I know? With all these Kazen bastards swarming around, who in their right mind would charge forward wearing half a mask and under a curse? Do you think I understand this madness, Fourth Princess?!
But since he couldn't voice those thoughts, Gallo merely shrugged with a strained grunt.
"He's a mercenary who refuses to listen to reason. If he insists, there's nothing I can do."
"That's absurd!"
The Fourth Princess's voice was sharp. She had to win this duel.
"This is a matter between Valdina and Kazen! How dare an outsider interfere!"
Hadn't her handmaiden claimed this mercenary was terrifyingly strong? She couldn't afford to leave Jared even the slightest opening for defeat.
"Ahaha, Your Highness. Outsiders? We're just weapon merchants without a country..."
Just as Gallo added fuel to the fire, Cesare let out a soft laugh.
His gaze, however, wasn't directed at the Fourth Princess—but at Jared.
"Is the Imperial Princess of Kazen afraid her handpicked champion might lose to me?"
"You bastard—!"
The Fourth Princess couldn't bring herself to deny it, and Jared's face twisted in fury.
Did she truly believe he couldn't defeat some lowly mercenary?
"You've got a death wish, running that mouth of yours."
"Words like that should be spoken over a corpse."
The rich timbre of his voice beneath the white mask carried an almost musical cadence.
"Ah, but I suppose you wouldn't know, having never set foot on a battlefield."
Jared's face contorted into something monstrous.
"If you die fighting for the princess, no one will compensate you for your worthless life. Still, you want to fight me?"
The mercenary's lips curled again.
"You talk too much."
This bastard—!
No more words were needed. Jared lunged forward.
"Step forward, you Facade dog."
Provoked by Cesare, Jared raised his hand.
"Jared!"
The Fourth Princess moved to stop him but flinched at the ferocity in his eyes.
"Your Highness, since this wretch is fighting in your stead, shouldn't he be the one to choose his opponent?"
The unspoken threat was clear: Let me handle this, or I walk.
There was no one stronger than Jared in this diplomatic mission.
When he refused to yield, the princess glared at him in displeasure.
"Since you've chosen this, you will win."
"I'll tear off one of his arms—trust me on that."
Ever since he'd heard this mercenary had aided the First Prince—the very man he loathed—in the continental war, Jared had been itching for a chance to put him in his place.
Now, he'd slaughter him and teach that arrogant Facade a lesson.
His confidence reassured the princess.
After all, wasn't Jared one of the continent's renowned 10-Star Knights? His prowess was no lie.
A faint smile touched the Fourth Princess's lips as she murmured under her breath,
"Don't just tear off an arm—kill him. Use your secret technique if you must."
Jared paused, then grinned darkly.
"In that case, I'll need to switch weapons. But can you handle the fallout if the opponent is from Facade?"
"You'll have to handle that princess too, so what's the difference?"
If the mercenary who stepped forward for the princess died, it would complicate relations between Valdina and Facade.
"Lord Iason wants you. If you win today, I'll take you under my wing."
The Imperial Princess smiled cruelly.
"Wouldn't I be better than a frayed lifeline? I should remind His Majesty of you—the one he's forgotten."
Jared snickered.
He was immensely pleased by this situation—both the princess and the Grand Duke vying for him.
All he had to do was remove that white mask. A cruel anticipation gleamed in Jared's eyes.
Before long, preparations for the rematch between the two warriors were complete.
One was the Kazen Empire's 10-Star General, the other the mercenary captain of Facade.
Both were infamous, both peerless in martial prowess—no one could easily predict the outcome.
Cesare, clad in armor, locked eyes with the princess watching him.
Her emerald eyes remained calm, as if his sudden intervention hadn't surprised her at all. Even though he had clearly disrupted whatever plans she had laid.
Her thoughts were utterly unreadable—like a still lake that swallowed even the faintest ripple.
'A mere 10-Star isn't even worth considering, is it?'
The thought flitted through his mind—how he wanted to see those startled eyes again, the ones that had looked up at him when he subdued the Hydra.
The princess approached.
Her footsteps halted before Cesare.
"Acares."
The name of the white half-mask slipped softly between her pale lips.
"You stand here in my stead, so for now, you may consider yourself my knight."
Her clear voice resonated.
With her own hands, the princess tied a pale green handkerchief around Cesare's right arm.
Facade's emblem was concealed, and in its place, Valdina's crest embroidered on the handkerchief was revealed.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
After securing the knot firmly, the princess discreetly tapped his arm four times.
When Cesare looked down at her, questioning, she pressed her ring finger firmly against the embroidered crest once more.
"......"
"Please take care of yourself."
As if her task was done, the princess stepped back—only for Cesare to bow deeply.
"I shall bring victory to Her Highness."
He pressed his lips to the knot of the handkerchief tied around his arm.
It was a kiss so reverent, one could hardly believe it came from a mercenary who had rolled through battlefields.
Their figures—a valiant knight and a noble lady praying for his fortune—drew gasps from the crowd.
"Hmph. Quite the generous treatment for a stray dog."
Jared glared at the handkerchief on Cesare's arm as if he could swallow it whole.
Seeing the princess he had been eyeing show affection to some nobody from Facade made his blood boil.
Jared ran a hand along his blade.
As per the Imperial Princess's orders, the sword he had switched to just before the duel was coated with a lethal poison.
This colorless, odorless elixir had eliminated his rivals and forged the Jared of today.
"You'll regret crossing me."
He threw out a venomous taunt, but all he got in return was a mocking upturn of lips.
The rematch began.
Jared's strength was no lie.
As if to prove the might of a 10-Star Knight, his opening assault was a relentless storm. A surge of steel-gray aura rippled around him.
Yet, Cesare parried the blade by a hair's breadth.
"Facade's mutt, if you don't want your head lopped off, draw your aura."
"No need."
Cesare shrugged, making no effort to hide that he saw no issue facing Jared without his aura.
Humiliated by the dismissal, Jared ground his teeth in shame.
"Fine. Then I'll match you. Don't make excuses later."
Though he retracted his gray aura, Jared's killing intent only grew more savage.
Scattered sword energy pressed in from all sides, tightening like a noose around Cesare.
Behind his mask, golden eyes gleamed with amusement as they swept over Jared—just as Medeia had done earlier.
'Why four?'
He was still deciphering the meaning behind the princess's earlier signal.
She couldn't be aiming solely for his strength—nor simply for Jared's defeat.
"What are you doing, Jared? Finish it already!"
The impatient Imperial Princess shouted.
A relentless exchange—blades clashing, barely breaking apart—made it seem as if Jared was deliberately holding back.
'You think I don't want to?'
Jared panted, eyes bloodshot.
He had been certain he'd butcher that white mask within twenty exchanges—yet not only had twenty passed, but twice that, and he hadn't even managed to slice a single thread of his opponent's clothing.
At that moment, the mercenary's blade exploded toward Jared.