Chapter 93
Chapter 93
Translation: godsn
"Guh...!"
In an instant, crimson streaks were drawn across his neck, temples, and the corners of his eyes—all lethal points where a single strike could sever his life.
"Haa. He's toying with Jared completely."
Siseo muttered under his breath. The spectators silently agreed. The mercenary known as Facade was vicious even in temperament.
To humiliate his opponent like this—playing with him as though he were a toy—when he could have ended it in one strike...
Even considering Jared was a renowned general of a nation, there was a palpable malice in how thoroughly he was shattering the man's hard-earned reputation.
The faces of the Kazen diplomatic mission flushed with humiliation as they watched the spectacle unfold.
Yet Jared himself had no room to feel shame. Merely evading the blade with his own body demanded every ounce of his focus—there was no opening to exploit.
A thick, suffocating terror surged from the soles of Jared's feet.
It felt like standing against an overwhelming tidal wave.
No matter how desperately he struggled, he would inevitably be swallowed by those towering waters—a hopeless, stifling sensation.
Jared had only experienced this feeling once before in a duel.
'When I crossed blades with the First Prince.'
His body recognized that dreadful sense of déjà vu before his mind could process it.
'But isn't he dying right now? Then who the hell is this man before me—'
In that instant, as if to mock Jared's suspicion, the trajectory of the blade shifted unpredictably.
This wasn't the refined yet tyrannical swordsmanship of the First Prince—this was the killing intent of a blade honed through countless life-and-death battles in the gutters.
'What the hell? Which one is real?!'
"Use your aura, you fool!"
The Fourth Imperial Princess shouted upon seeing Jared being pushed back helplessly. Did dignity matter when defeat seemed inevitable?!
Jared's sword, now wreathed in a grayish aura, barely managed to carve an escape route for its wielder.
"Haa, haa..."
The aura was formidable and threatening, befitting a 10-star knight. Yet Cesare remained armed with nothing but a bare blade.
'Right. It doesn't matter how I win—as long as I win.'
At that moment, Jared's nose twitched. The veins on his temples bulged violently.
'...Damn it, why now of all times...?'
A faint discomfort pulsed through the hand gripping his sword, and Jared flexed his fingers restlessly.
'The medicine's effect should be kicking in now.'
Amidst the crowd, Medeia concealed a faint smile. Calculation flickered in her jade-green eyes.
In her past life, Jared had been indisputably the greatest warrior in the expeditionary force.
Medeia had spent years observing him closely during their time together in that force.
His habits, his quirks—she knew them all.
Long ago, during his knighting ceremony, Jared had suffered a severe injury to his hand.
It was a near-crippling wound that almost cost him his fingers. Even now, after treatment, he still felt a lingering ache.
Because of this, he always carried water infused with Belladonna—a black berry—and drank it frequently.
Belladonna was a poisonous herb where consuming just three berries could be fatal.
But in controlled doses, it served as an effective anesthetic to numb persistent pain.
Except for one critical, yet undiscovered weakness.
'When Belladonna is ingested, exposure to the scent of Violetta amplifies its potency.'
Beyond mere numbness—it induces full paralysis.
In her past life, this fact only became widely known after Iason ascended the throne.
Back then, Medeia had used this very method to eliminate a renowned general who had threatened Iason.
Every flower decorating the banquet hall tonight had been carefully prepared for Jared's sake.
A funeral offering—flowers to commemorate the death of a warrior.
Medeia's gaze met Cesare's as he glanced subtly toward the crowd.
'So he's noticed too.'
She gave a slight nod, as if confirming his thoughts.
Behind the white mask, his well-shaped lips curved into a faint arc.
Meanwhile, Jared grew increasingly frantic as his hand stiffened.
"Damn it...!"
His sword kept veering off course at the slightest shift. Frustrated, he readjusted his grip.
This was already an overwhelming fight even with a fully functional hand—at this rate, defeat was inevitable.
And it would be a miserable, humiliating defeat.
'No. I can't let it end like this.'
Cornered, Jared bit his lip hard before pulling something from his coat and hurling it at Cesare.
The spiked chain was a trap-type weapon designed to immobilize an opponent's movements.
Though its use was prohibited in duels, Jared knew that as long as he won, the Fourth Imperial Princess would find a way to cover it up.
The chain lashed out like a black serpent.
Now!
Seizing the opening, Jared's grayish aura surged violently toward Cesare's chest, filled with a vicious killing intent aimed straight at his heart.
Cesare swung his sword in a swift motion.
A silver flash cut through the air.
The severed chain lost its momentum and unraveled to the ground just as Jared's sword slipped from his grip and clattered onto the floor.
Clang—!
"Aaaagh—!"
Jared screamed, clutching his hand. The space where his fourth finger should have been was now empty.
"Agh! M-my hand... my finger...!"
"Kneel."
A leisurely voice commanded. Unlike the tyrannical slash, it was brimming with ease.
Thud. Jared collapsed to his knees.
Yet even his wretched scream was cut short by the edge of Cesare's blade pressing against his throat.
Cesare, who had been watching with cold eyes, turned toward Medeia. As if nothing had happened, his refined lips curled into a relaxed smile.
"I wonder if the Princess will be pleased with the gift I offer."
It was undeniably Valdina's victory.
Silence swept through the hall.
The reason was different from the dumbfounded shock during the Princess's duel earlier.
One man was screaming, covered in blood, while the other stood unscathed, not a speck of dust on him.
The outcome of the duel, decided in an instant, was so brutal that they didn't know what to say.
"WOOOOOAH—!"
But soon, thunderous cheers erupted.
"Facade's mercenary won! He completely crushed the general!"
"Our Highness won! Valdina has claimed another victory!"
Hadn't Kazen's general resorted to foul play, throwing a trap when he was cornered? He fell into his own trap—served him right for getting hurt.
Amid the cheers, Medeia walked toward the Kazen delegation.
"Fourth Princess, are you satisfied now?"
"Th-this is...!"
The Fourth Princess's face turned deathly pale. Two consecutive defeats had left her utterly stunned.
No matter what trick she tried, she couldn't overturn the duel's outcome. Hadn't she seen it with her own eyes?
Moreover, while the mercenary hadn't broken a single rule, Jared had resorted to forbidden weapons.
The Fourth Princess trembled violently.
The Kazen delegation was no different.
"H-how...?"
How could this have happened? They were horrified.
Iason, too, was startled upon seeing Facade's mercenary overwhelm Jared, but unlike the others, he hadn't completely lost his wits.
This entire mess was Angelique's doing.
Most of the envoys they brought were the Fourth Princess's supporters anyway.
Aside from Jared and Kensington, the rest were nobodies—hardly a loss.
Angelique will be pushed far from the succession after this. In that case, I should reach out to the East Imperial Consort.
The East Imperial Consort wouldn't try to place any of the other princes or princesses she'd feuded with on the throne.
That meant he was her only remaining alternative.
Just as Iason's eyes gleamed at the thought of picking up the scraps of the fallen Fourth Princess—
"Grand Duke Castulo."
Iason flinched.
The Princess of Valdina was looking straight at him.
"As the arbiter and guarantor of this duel, I ask that you declare the victor."
Her eyes were as serene and gentle as before the duel. The dried bloodstains, still untreated, evoked pity.
Yet Iason was deeply unsettled.
In his delight over the Fourth Princess's predicament, he had forgotten that he, too, was part of this duel as its guarantor.
I guaranteed this duel, certain that Kazen would win.
But Valdina had won—what was he to do now?
Cesare, watching from the sidelines, stifled a laugh. Even up to the moment victory was certain, she had dug a pitfall to corner Iason.
One thing was now clear: the Princess was targeting his cousin.
Medeia spoke.
"You swore before the gods to judge fairly and justly. I trust in your judgment, and in the gods'."
"......"
Iason glanced around.
The Fourth Princess glared at him, shaking her head violently as if demanding he never acknowledge the result.