Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: The Spies' Scheme
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Creak!
The hinges of the broken, rusted door ground together, echoing with an ear-grating screech.
From behind what could barely be called a door—more like a slab of splintered wood—a woman with fiery red hair stepped into view.
"Oh? You're all here early?"
The woman greeted them casually, and the two men seated at the table, cloaked in robes, turned their heads toward her.
"We're not early—you're late, Tia."
The man on the left spoke flatly, prompting the red-haired woman, Tia, to raise her hands in apology.
"Ahh~ Sorry, sorry. On my way here, some pests picked a fight out of nowhere. Can't just let bugs cling to you, right?"
"Hilarious."
The man on the right snorted at her unconvincing excuse.
"As if you didn't deliberately strut through the slums for everyone to see. Fool someone who doesn't know you."
If Tia truly tried to hide her presence, even veteran assassins would struggle to detect her. As if slum rats could spot her. It was laughable.
"Ahaha, caught me?"
Tia, now thoroughly scolded, stuck out her tongue and slipped into her seat.
"...We specifically told you to avoid unnecessary actions."
The left man stated calmly, and Tia hurriedly defended herself.
"Come on, killing a few bugs isn't going to draw attention. I took care of all the witnesses, so relax."
"...This grand plan can't tolerate even the slightest interference. Be more careful from now on."
"Got it, got it."
Tia replied to the man while brushing bloodstains off her robe hem, grumbling under her breath.
"Anyway, this country's got some nerve. Back in our empire, trash like that would've been dragged to the mines to dig ore until they dropped dead."
The left man glared at her words once more.
"Watch your mouth, Tia. Martial clans and mages from the Magic Tower are here now. You never know who's listening."
"Fine, fine. Jeez... you're the king of nagging."
Tia grumbled but offered no real defiance.
She knew if the left man truly lost his temper, her life could end in an instant.
"Now that we're all here, let's review the plan once more."
Satisfied he'd warned them enough, the man looked at the two and spoke.
"Contact from our spy in the Kan Empire. Two of their plans to trigger seismic shifts in the Cataclysm using modified Hundred Ghosts Units have failed."
If anyone from the Kan Empire's intelligence heard him, they'd be horrified.
He'd pierced straight through a top-secret plot known to almost no one in the Kan Empire itself.
"Tsk tsk, idiots. Do they know how much it costs to refine those Hundred Ghosts Units? What a waste. Serves them right for relying on muscle-headed monsters for strategy."
The right man cackled at the mention of the Kan Empire.
"Quiet. Anyway, that leaves them with only two units sown into the Cataclysm. Their strategy division deemed it insufficient to weaken Aslan Kingdom's forces, so they deployed us. You both know this much, right?"
"Yup, yup."
"Of course."
The man nodded curtly at their casual replies and continued.
"Unlike the Kan Empire, our strategy division plans to strike at Aslan Kingdom from within—shatter their renowned unity."
"But how? Aslan's no ordinary kingdom; it's a true community of fate against the Cataclysm. They know letting go means death. Can we really shake that?"
Tia's question was spot on. Aslan Kingdom was the sole kingdom on the southern continent.
The bond forged over ages, united against the inhuman Cataclysm, far surpassed any ordinary nation's solidarity.
"Normally, our division wouldn't propose something like this. But..."
Whoosh!
The man unrolled a small scroll on the table, revealing Isabelle's portrait.
"Word is, in recent years, Isabelle—the kingdom's flower turned notorious troublemaker—has caused such outrages against the martial clans and Magic Tower that relations with the royal family have cooled."
"Hmm, so?"
"Outside, she's a menace, but to the royals, she's their precious youngest daughter. Even a wise king like Demure Aslan couldn't stay calm if something happened to his girl."
Thud!
A dagger from the man's sleeve plunged into Isabelle's portrait.
"We make it brutal—utterly vicious. And leave plenty of martial clan traces."
"But how? She's a spoiled princess, sure, but Demure dotes on her. He won't leave her alone. How do we even get to her?"
"No need to worry about that."
Swish!
The man pulled out two sheets of paper and tossed them to the right man and Tia.
They caught them reflexively.
"Take a look."
Rustle!
At his words, they unfolded the papers.
"This is...?"
Detailed on the sheets: Isabelle's favored escape hole—er, exit—her movement schedule, and patrol routes.
"Per strategy division, the princess goes out every day except her birthday. We target the day after—once the birthday guests have all arrived."
On her birthday, she'd be exhausted from mingling.
Then, to soothe her weary body and mind, Isabelle would surely take a longer nighttime stroll than usual.
That would be their moment.
"That day, we erase Isabelle from the world."
As Present King Demure Aslan's sole daughter Isabelle's birthday approached, congratulatory delegations flooded in from across the continent.
"Hoho, greetings. I'm Giovanni, humbly serving as bishop in the Holy Kingdom."
A middle-aged man in pristine white robes, radiating priesthood, bowed. A knightly noble with a well-honed physique responded.
"No, such an honor! To meet a Holy Kingdom bishop in the flesh. It's a great privilege. I'm from the Pang Kingdom in the eastern continent..."
Each one was a figure who'd command respect anywhere in Agena.
Not from powerhouse empires like the Dupere Empire, heir to Alexandros, or traditional giant Kan Empire—but from minor kingdoms, and for a mere princess's birthday? Overkill.
Someone might wonder why send delegations for a princess's birthday.
But they had no choice—they had to come.
Even using the birthday as an excuse, they needed that connection.
The envoys exchanged formal introductions and greetings.
How much time passed?
"The Lichtenauer Marquis Household enters!"
One of the two groups the delegations craved finally appeared.
'Finally, a chance to meet the famed martial clan's eldest young lord, Alex.'
'Remember, everyone—we must forge ties with the eldest young lord. It's our Pang Kingdom's only way out of crisis.'
Perhaps sensing their hopes, tied to personal agendas.
The party hall buzzed chaotically as the martial clan's second young lord, Ian Lichtenauer, stepped forward slowly.
Then, as if on cue, the envoys' faces twisted into something indescribably odd.
'...What?'
'That's... Alex, right?'
'He looks... smaller than described?'
Sensing the envoys' baffled stares.
With all eyes on him, Ian flashed a bright smile and greeted them.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Ian Lichtenauer, second young lord of the Lichtenauer household."
The envoys' faces soured as if they'd bitten into dung.
"Pfft—hahahaha!!"
The first day of celebrations for Isabelle's approaching birthday had ended.
On the way back to their quarters, Ralph doubled over laughing.
"Heh, heh... Did you see those faces earlier? They were gutted the eldest didn't show. I mean, our boss still looks a bit scrawny from the outside. Right?"
"...Shut it."
"Aw, is our boss mad? Still treated like half a man out there? Come on, no need to sweat it. Everyone'll see who you are soon enough. If you put in a liiiittle more effort~?"
Having found rare ammo, Ralph teased Ian relentlessly.
"Ralph, enough."
Ryu An tried to rein him in, but curbing Ralph now that he'd tasted rebellion was no easy task.
"Hey, why stop the fun now? Oh, our boss—don't forget this humiliation... Gahk!"
Thud!
Ralph finally took a strike to the temple, eyes rolling back as he collapsed.
Behind the falling Ralph, Ian held a black sword that had appeared in his hand.
"Tsk tsk, that's why I said moderate yourself."
As if they'd seen it coming, Ryu An and Dane sighed, grabbed Ralph's shoulders, and tossed him into the room.
"Ralph was a bit cheeky, sure. But boss, don't take it to heart. They just don't know the real you yet."
"I know."
He'd racked up achievements, but only within Bestrika on the southern continent.
To these arrivals from across Agena, second young lord Ian Lichtenauer was just a lesser shadow under his elder brother.
He knew it, but that didn't make it feel any better.
'Tch, still a long way to go.'
Some success in the clan was nothing in Agena's eyes—just a minor blip.
To those at Agena's pinnacle, whose decisions shook the continent, Ian was still a mere speck.
'Don't forget.'
My enemies have already reached Agena's peak.
Brussels Palace was the Aslan royal family's most vital stronghold.
Naturally, it maintained ironclad security—knights and disciplined troops leaving no gaps.
But even the tightest vigilance had flaws; humans weren't perfect.
And no one knew those flaws better than a lifelong resident.
In a remote corner of Brussels Palace lay the incinerator for royal and servant waste—food scraps and filth.
Usually avoided for the stench, it was worse today with visiting guests, ensuring total solitude.
Crackle, crackle!
Only the flames devouring refuse broke the silence.
Beside the quiet incinerator, a soft glow began to shimmer.
Flash!
A burst of light revealed a diminutive figure in a robe.
The figure wrinkled her nose slightly at the stench—familiar now—and moved off quietly.
Step, step!
Exiting the incinerator, she shed her robe and strode boldly through Brussels Palace.
Bold for a stealthy intruder.
But stranger still: the alert knights and soldiers, vigilant against threats, didn't stop her.
They bowed and stepped aside instead.
Click!
"Hoo..."
Isabelle, the intruder who'd slipped in unseen, sighed as she entered her room.
Her birthday, yet she'd fled outside, hating the guests fawning over others.
She knew it tarnished her father's reputation.
Her "spoiled brat" label stemmed from resentment toward ambitious clans and mages—not her father—so her heart wasn't light.
As Isabelle sorted her tangled feelings and changed clothes...
"You're back, Princess...?"
"Kyaa!"
The nanny emerged from the shadows like a ghost, startling Isabelle into a scream.
"Y-You scared me! Nanny, make some noise! Thought my heart would stop."
Relief it wasn't an assassin brought questions and anger.
"More importantly—what are you doing in my room? Servants barging into royal quarters uninvited? You think that's acceptable?"
Even her lifelong nanny couldn't excuse this.
Unauthorized entry into royal rooms warranted summary execution.
Yet the nanny pressed on undeterred.
"Forgive me, Princess. But what I saw today... I had to tell you."
At her grave expression, Isabelle calmed, leaning into a chair.
"...Fine, speak. But it better convince me. If it's nonsense, even you won't get a pass."
But the nanny's next words made Isabelle forget her own threat entirely.
"The Lichtenauer Martial Clan... sent the second young lord, not the eldest."
The news was that shocking.