Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: 3rd Princess, Solana (1)
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“Alright. Give me one.”
In the end, those were the first words out of Balton's mouth. Blending in naturally and gauging the mood was probably necessary first, of course.
Soon enough, Zekiel handed over a single stalk of Sunweed, and Balton toyed with it for a good while, as if seeing one for the first time.
“I had my doubts, but damn, it's real Sunweed. No question about it.”
Balton hadn't asked for it intending to savor it himself. He was simply curious if the stuff the guy was casually chewing on was genuine.
Zekiel exhaled a puff of smoke and eyed Balton.
“Why would I bother faking it?”
“Sunweed's the highest-grade drug out there. How the hell did you even get it in here? Now I'm dying to know your smuggling secret.”
“What... I just smoked it openly on the way in.”
“Ha, right. Like you'd spill trade secrets that easily.”
Was this guy specialized in hiding things?
In any case, it was clear the man across from him was wary of Balton to some degree as well. Which meant that air of nonchalance was just an act.
Meanwhile, Zekiel asked Balton something a bit unexpected.
“You know how to cook at all?”
Changing the subject that abruptly? The guy seemed weaker than he'd thought.
“What's that got to do with anything all of a sudden?”
“There's ingredients and cookware on the second floor. Help yourself if you're hungry.”
“Is the Penitence Palace your house or something?”
“It might as well have been, once.”
Compared to Balton, hadn't the guy only arrived half a day earlier? The sheer absurdity of the territorial claim nearly drew a hollow laugh.
'No, wait. A Sunweed addict wouldn't be all there in the head.'
Vivid hallucinations were one of the most common symptoms among Sunweed enthusiasts. They often spouted nonsense the moment they opened their mouths.
Putting two and two together, everything clicked. The excessive nonchalance, the way he seemed out of his mind—it all fit.
Meanwhile, Zekiel nodded toward the ceiling.
“It's a Penitence Palace rule, so take a look.”
“Rules?”
Balton's gaze shifted upward.
[Penitence Palace Announcement.]
One, a total of three people are staying in the Penitence Palace today.
Two, reduce the number to two by tomorrow.
Three, if the above conditions are not met, the Penitence Palace will vanish.
“Hmph, what an amusing set of rules.”
Balton muttered as he glanced around.
One Sunweed addict, one woman tense enough to be rigid... A short, simple conclusion formed. The strongest one here was, without a doubt, Balton himself.
'I was hoping for a real challenge, but this'll do just fine!'
There was definitely fun to be had in tormenting the weak. Like a chef laying ingredients on the cutting board. He was already excited thinking about how he'd toy with and ravage this pair.
Balton pulled out a set of dice he'd been keeping safe in his pocket.
“If those are the rules, no point dragging it out, right? Let's get started, friends! I've got a fun way to do this.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah! This is a place where someone's gotta die, isn't it? Let's pick that one fairly with dice. Whichever of you two rolls higher, I'll let live.”
As he spoke, Balton didn't forget to surge his dark energy massively. The reason was obvious: to drill into their bodies that he was overwhelmingly stronger than either of them.
A heavy silence fell, with the man and woman across from him exchanging glances a few times. Thanks to that, Balton was convinced once more.
'Yep, no doubt about it. I'm the strongest one here right now.'
How entertaining would it be to watch them turn on each other?
Eventually, it was Zekiel who picked up the dice.
“Looks like we've got ourselves a real character. I'll go first.”
“Go ahead. No pressure, just toss 'em easy.”
Balton muttered as he stealthily cast black magic on Zekiel—Weakness, one of the curse's top representatives.
'This rigged dice's value scales with the thrower's strength.'
A weakened Zekiel would roll low, and Balton would kill him on the spot. Then he'd spend the remaining time having fun with the woman. That was the rough plan forming in his head.
“Alright, what number's it gonna be? I'm dying to see.”
The moment Balton licked his lower lip with his tongue—
Crack—!
Something he hadn't sensed slammed straight into his philtrum.
“Guh...!”
Balton snapped his head back upright.
Disorientation hit first, pain a beat later. He tasted blood and moved his tongue—his mouth felt horribly empty. That single strike had knocked out all his front teeth.
And then a leisurely voice rang in his ears.
“What, like this?”
Zekiel.
He'd tossed the dice, caught them, and was grinning casually.
“You... How dare you... What the hell do you think you're—?!”
“Mouth's still working fine, huh. Overdid the strength control.”
With those words, a massive chunk of ice exploded from Zekiel's palm, countless crystals shaping into dice and firing off.
Crack—! Crack—! Crack—!
Too fast for the naked eye to track.
All Balton could do was take it helplessly.
“Guh...! Ack...!”
Crack—! Crunch—!
“Stop! Stop...! Just stop for now...!”
The unbearable agony forced Balton to his knees, and eventually he collapsed fully, curling into a ball.
...This pain, this humiliation—it was all new to him.
“M-Mage? What the hell are you? You should've been hit with Weakness curse...!”
Balton was just curious.
The question filling his head was purely 'Why?'
It was infamous knowledge that black mages held a huge advantage over regular mages. And he'd even landed Weakness on the guy—how was he unleashing this kind of power?
“You're... You're a mage! How can you overwhelm me, a black mage...?!”
“Matchup?”
Zekiel grumbled, then just chuckled.
“You only worry about that when you're on equal footing. Right?”
Thud—!
The final ice die pierced straight through Balton's skull as he lay prone. An utterly overwhelming victory.
Zekiel's gaze turned to Anes beside him.
“Congrats. Surviving the Penitence Palace as a newbie? Impressive.”
“...”
But Anes couldn't utter a word.
Her face was still expressionless, but her mind was a whirlwind of chaos. Zekiel's mastery of magic, seen with her own eyes, was beyond imagination. She was simply flabbergasted.
Only after a long moment did Anes look at Zekiel.
“...Just who the hell are you?”
Unfortunately, she wouldn't get an answer.
Thud thud—!
—Hear this within the Penitence Palace: time's up!
Time was finally up.
Whoosh—!
A blinding flash erupted inside the space.
Riiiing—
I shook my head against the intense tinnitus. The side effect of the teleport that triggered when Penitence Palace time ended. No matter how many times I'd been through it, it was always unpleasant.
'This place... the reception room, huh.'
Thanks to my past time in the Imperial Palace, it was easy to recognize. Right now, I was in the middle of an empty reception room.
But I was alone.
There was a chair opposite me, and two teacups on the desk in front, clear as day. Yet there was no one else here but me.
'Where's the 3rd Princess?'
Should I go out and look? It'd be pretty easy to find her. Just spot the skinniest woman in the Imperial Palace—that'd be the 3rd Princess.
I'd just pulled out a fresh Sunweed and started chewing when—
Slam—
Clack— Clack—
The reception room door swung open, and a woman entered.
Her hair was such pure gold that its color alone proclaimed its rarity, waves of golden light rippling every time her lustrous curls swayed. And beneath it, deep crimson eyes gleaming intensely.
A total stranger, yet somehow familiar.
Familiar, yet a total stranger.
What kind of woman carried both intimacy and alienation at once? Lost in the complicated thoughts, the golden-haired woman sat down across from me.
Up close, the curves of her body were staggeringly pronounced.
No matter where my eyes landed, it'd feel embarrassingly rude. Our gazes met naturally on our faces.
Sigh—
The woman let out a deep breath right off the bat.
But it wasn't exasperation—it was clearly relief.
“I'm so glad you're safe. When His Imperial Majesty forced you into the Penitence Palace, my heart sank. But rest easy; the short time it takes for us to talk will definitely be safe.”
“...”
I just stared at her silently.
Cognitive dissonance at its finest.
“You...”
“Yes. The Byte Empire's 3rd Princess. Solana.”
Sighhhh—.
I ended up blowing a huge cloud of smoke right in her face.
You? Solana?
...You?
The scrawny, emaciated you?