Chapter 19: The Path to Survival!
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 19: The Path to Survival!
Staring at the withered hand wreathed in eerie flames, the maid’s gaze remained calm. She extended her right hand—the one gripping the dagger—and held it before the desiccated limb.
The withered fingers slowly tightened, wrapping around the maid’s wrist.
Sizzle...
The eerie flames flared up, and the stench of scorched flesh filled the room.
The maid’s face turned deathly pale, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she endured what seemed to be excruciating pain. Yet, a fanatical fervor brewed in her eyes, like a believer witnessing the descent of a miracle.
After a moment, the withered hand released her wrist and retreated into the black-hole-like vortex. The terrifying aura vanished as if it had never existed.
However, the eerie flames remained. They clung to the maid’s right hand and her dagger, burning with ferocious intensity.
"An Evil Priest?"
Celicia’s voice returned to the world, laced with an unspeakable fury. "You rats from the gutter... you actually dare to show your faces before me?"
"Rats? To a noble Princess, we are indeed nothing more than rats."
The maid looked up, the flames reflected in her cold eyes and in Celicia’s pale, lovely face. Her expression was mocking. "But, my noble Princess, you are about to be killed by one of those lowly rats."
The maid vanished again.
She reappeared instantly in front of Celicia. The flaming dagger lunged toward Celicia’s heart at a wicked, merciless angle.
"Hmph, in your dreams!"
With a cold snort, a more terrifying chill erupted from Celicia’s body. Everything around her was instantly shredded by extreme cold and a localized storm.
But it lasted only for a heartbeat.
That split second wasn't enough to stop the maid, who was already within arm's reach; it only caused the dagger to veer slightly off course.
Because in the next instant, that chill abruptly vanished.
Without warning, suddenly, and catching her completely off guard—it was gone.
Celicia was stunned for a moment, but she quickly recovered, her eyes darting to the flames burning on the maid’s right hand.
"As I thought... is that a power specifically designed to counter mine?"
Celicia’s ice came from a divine blessing. It was different from ordinary frost magic; it represented the power of Law.
To freeze all things.
That was the essence of her Rule. Theoretically, she could even freeze fire itself.
But that power had been temporarily neutralized. She couldn't even condense her usual ice sword. Another Law, one that perfectly countered her own, was burning on the maid’s hand and blade.
"But do you really think this is enough to kill me?"
Celicia calmed herself quickly. Her strength didn't come solely from divine favor!
Before the maid could launch her second assault, Celicia suddenly lunged forward, advancing instead of retreating!
She pressed her slender fingers together into a palm, her palm surging with sharp Fighting Spirit as she slammed it toward the maid’s chest.
"I almost forgot, Your Highness’s martial arts are not to be underestimated. It’s just a pity..."
The maid didn't dodge. Instead, she met Celicia’s palm with her own.
Their Fighting Spirit clashed, falling into a brief, violent stalemate. The resulting wind pressure whipped the maid’s neatly trimmed, ear-length hair. Her expression remained indifferent.
"It’s a pity that because you usually rely on your ice sword, a master of swordplay like yourself didn't bother to carry an ordinary backup blade. And due to your excessive confidence, you didn't even deign to carry defensive Magic Devices on your person."
"!"
Celicia’s expression remained cold, but deep within her eyes, there was a faint, imperceptible flicker.
"Therefore—"
The Fighting Spirit in the maid’s palm suddenly reversed, creating a suction that locked Celicia’s hand in place. Taking Celicia’s strike head-on caused the maid significant injury instantly, but it was a price she was willing to pay to ensure Celicia had nowhere to run.
"Therefore, I believe I can still kill you."
The maid’s right hand was already raised. She held the dagger in a reverse grip, aiming for a vital spot to ensure precision, power, and a clean kill.
Death had raised its scythe once more.
This time, it was a true dead end.
*
Crap, what the hell am I thinking?
Cowering in the corner, Muen suddenly gave himself a hard slap, forcing himself to snap out of a thought that was dangerously tempting but absolutely monstrous.
He couldn't believe it—just now, he had actually wanted Celicia to die!
For the sake of his own selfish desires, he had hoped the assassin would kill her.
True, if Celicia dies, no one will hold me accountable for violating the Princess. I might actually survive for a while.
But after doing that to a pure young girl, I’m actually thinking about taking her life too?
What kind of shameless, god-awful piece of human trash am I? Celicia is innocent!
Muen slammed his fist into the floor. The sharp pain helped him clear his head. As he calmed down, a wave of self-loathing rose and filled his heart.
It was true. From start to finish, Celicia was the innocent one. She had done nothing wrong.
She had been invited to this room because of Muen’s cowardice, drugged because of Muen’s despicableness, and robbed of her purity because of Muen’s stupidity. Now, she was about to lose her life because of Muen’s single oversight.
It shouldn't have been like this. She should have been like she was in the original novel—meeting the person she loved and living a happy life.
She shouldn't die here!
"No, I can't just watch Celicia die. I have to help her!"
Muen clenched his fists, a spark of determination appearing in his eyes. But when he looked up at the battle between Celicia and the assassin, that determination withered instantly.
"How... how am I supposed to help?"
He couldn't even track the assassin’s movements. He didn't have a divine blessing.
He recognized the assassin’s "prayer." It was a manifestation of the "Evil Priest" from the original book—beings who gained power from Evil Gods through sacrificial rituals.
That was a level of power he wasn't supposed to encounter yet.
He was just a pampered Duke’s son, a blonde villain whose only purpose was to be a stepping stone for the protagonist. He was just an ordinary first-year student at St. Maria Academy, and he had spent most of that year wasting his life away. The only magic he could recall at this moment was a useless Illumination Spell.
He couldn't help Celicia at all.
Maybe the best way to help is to just stay out of the way?
Like those heroines in TV dramas who have no ability but try to help out of the goodness of their hearts, only to make things worse—maybe watching from the sidelines was the best choice.
"Celicia will win. She has to! She’s so strong, she doesn't need my help," Muen muttered to himself, trying to convince his own conscience.
*
Click.
Muen suddenly heard a crisp sound behind him, like a door lock turning.
"It’s almost over. You can leave now, Muen Campbell."
The voice he had heard once before—the one that sounded somewhat weak—whispered in his ear again.