Chapter 600: The King of Pride (Part 4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 600: The King of Pride (Part 4)
"You want me dead?"
In a secluded corner, Old Ghost clutched his severed arm. Despite the injury, his movements were swift and practiced as he navigated the narrow alleys of a district he had bid farewell to ten years ago.
"No one could kill me ten years ago, and no one can kill me now!"
Old Ghost took a ragged breath. Once certain he had shaken his pursuers, he pulled a pill from his robes and swallowed it. As the medicine took effect, his breathing smoothed out considerably.
"Now then, what’s the next move?"
With the immediate threat to his life averted, he began to calculate.
"The situation is still unclear. I still have a few hidden safe houses left; perhaps I should wait there and see how things develop."
Old Ghost stared toward the distant Golden Tree, deep in thought. But then, his brow furrowed as if he had suddenly discovered something.
"Hmm? That is..."
*
"Sss... that hurts."
Muen held Celicia in his arms. Though he had a literal "fragrant beauty" in his embrace, he had no time to appreciate it. He could only groan as he rubbed his aching lower back.
He had rushed forward earlier to help Celicia break her fall, but he hadn't expected the force acting upon her to be so terrifying. They had been blasted away from the Imperial Palace, soaring across half the city before finally crashing down into the Lower District.
Fortunately, he was tough and possessed healing methods; otherwise, he would have been turned into a meat slurry long ago.
But compared to him...
"Are you alright, Celicia?"
Muen looked down at the woman in his arms.
Celicia’s aura was weak, and her face was deathly pale. She was clearly severely injured. Hearing Muen’s voice, she only managed a faint, powerless shake of her head.
Muen quickly pulled out a healing magic scroll.
As the soft green light surged, a hint of color returned to Celicia’s beautiful face. However...
Even though her injuries were healing and she was out of immediate danger, her eyes remained dull. She looked distracted, her mind seemingly miles away. She didn't even react to the fact that he was still holding her.
"This is..."
Muen turned his head to look toward the Imperial Palace.
The battle between the Indra King and the Golden Tree was still raging. The brilliance produced by their clashing techniques was like several suns rising simultaneously. Having experienced that power firsthand, Celicia likely felt her own weakness and insignificance more acutely than anyone...
In that case...
Muen thought for a moment.
He gently moved Celicia from his lap and leaned her against a nearby wall. Then, he stood up, leaned over, and braced one hand against the wall beside her head.
Under the radiance of the golden light, there was none of the usual quiet, romantic atmosphere, yet the glow reflecting off Celicia’s face only made her look more ethereal.
Muen gently tilted Celicia’s porcelain chin up. Before those cold eyes could focus on him, he suddenly leaned down...
And kissed her.
Her lips were cold.
The sensation was soft and tingling.
There was a faint taste of blood, mixed with a strange, lingering sweetness.
It was just a brief taste.
Muen pulled back, wanting more, and found himself staring straight into a pair of indifferent eyes.
"That..."
Before Celicia could speak, Muen beat her to it, answering with a deadpan expression:
"Don't misunderstand. This was to encourage you, just like you encouraged me before. I definitely didn't have any other intentions."
"Is that so? Encouragement."
"Mm-hmm, encouragement. You looked quite down."
"I was just thinking about things."
"..."
For a moment, their eyes met, and the atmosphere became excruciatingly awkward.
"Come here," Celicia said coldly.
"..."
Muen scratched his head and gave a sheepish laugh, but he obediently leaned in.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself for a knee to the gut or a strike from a jade foot. He just hoped she wouldn't hit too hard, considering his body was still injured.
But neither came.
As Muen drew close, Celicia grabbed him by the collar. Her swan-like neck arched slightly, and she... forcefully kissed him back.
Celicia took full control, demanding and taking what she wanted.
The kiss was so overbearing that Muen barely had the strength to resist. By the time he regained his senses, Celicia was already wiping her lips and returning to her original position, expressionless.
"Average."
"..."
Muen’s lip twitched. As a grown man, why did he feel like he was the one who had just been "devoured"?
No, he had to reclaim the initiative.
"Right, about—"
"Oh? I only came over to investigate the noise. I didn't expect to see something so interesting."
Just as Muen was about to ask something, a third voice rang out in the secluded street.
Muen and Celicia turned simultaneously toward the shadows. A one-armed man in a tattered trench coat stepped out. His wolf-like gaze swept over the two of them before he broke into a cold smirk, the scar running down his face looking particularly grotesque.
"Old Ghost?"
Muen frowned. He hadn't expected to run into this former Lower District gang leader here.
Strange. Didn't the Rat King go to settle scores with him? From the looks of it, did he actually let him escape?
"Oh? This noble young master actually recognizes me? I'm honored. But sorry, I have no interest in you."
Old Ghost gave Muen a brief look. Though he felt the boy looked somewhat familiar for some reason, he didn't dwell on it. His attention quickly shifted to Celicia. His eyes roved over her, making no attempt to hide the burning greed in his gaze, as if he were appraising the value of a piece of merchandise.
"This lady... you must be Her Highness, Princess Celicia."
"What if I am?"
Celicia didn't hide it; she answered directly.
"Oh, what an honor to meet you here."
Old Ghost performed a clumsy, mocking noble's bow and grinned.
"Her Highness doesn't look to be in the best of shape. I wonder if you'd do me the honor of coming with me to a safe place?"
"You think I'm severely injured and easy to bully, so you want to use me as a bargaining chip for profit?" Celicia saw through Old Ghost's intentions immediately and stated them flatly.
"Your Highness is indeed brilliant. Since that's the case, there's no need for more words."
Old Ghost reached out his hand. "Please, come with me. I'd hate to see Your Highness get hurt."
"..."
The atmosphere fell into a heavy silence.
Celicia remained quiet, her thoughts unreadable.
Muen, meanwhile, had already reached behind his back and gripped the hilt of his blade.
Old Ghost had nearly ruled the Lower District ten years ago; his strength was certainly not to be underestimated. Although he looked disheveled now, his pupils were slightly dilated—a sign of drug use—which likely made him even more dangerous.
Muen wasn't in top form, and Celicia was badly hurt. For safety's sake, he needed to wait for an opening...
"What? No answer, Your Highness?"
Old Ghost stepped forward, his hand slowly curling into a claw.
"In that case, I'll just have to—who's there!"
Old Ghost barked, sensing someone else's presence.
At that moment, with a sharp thwack, something was thrown from the darkness and struck Old Ghost right on the shoulder.
"A... stone?"
Old Ghost brushed the debris off his shoulder, looking incredulous. He turned and saw a timid, middle-aged man hiding behind a low wall, peeking out and throwing stones at him.
"Stay... stay away from Her Highness!"
The man summoned his courage and shouted at Old Ghost.
"You..." Old Ghost couldn't believe it.
A commoner?
A piece of Lower District trash?
These people, whom he wouldn't even deign to use as slaves, actually dared?
His mind already frayed by drugs and pain, Old Ghost felt a surge of murderous rage at the perceived humiliation. He raised his hand, aiming his palm at the man who had thrown the stone.
But his hand never closed.
Crackle.
The moment his attention was diverted, a frigid chill spread from the damp night ground onto his body.
A thin layer of frost rapidly encased him.
And then, more stones flew out from the shadows. It wasn't just the middle-aged man; there were many others—haggard women, children trying to look fierce. They peeked out from behind the low walls, not daring to get close, but throwing stones that should have been harmless.
However.
When flesh is frozen solid, even stones become lethal.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
With a series of crisp sounds, first Old Ghost’s outstretched hand, then his body, his legs, his head... piece by piece, he was shattered by the stones, turning into pink shards that fluttered away like snow.
Finally, only half of his face remained on the ground, staring in despair at his own pathetic end.
Old Ghost, the former "Tyrant" of the Lower District, had died at the hands of the "lambs" he had intended to exploit and control. He would never have his chance at a comeback.
Feeling a sense of irony, Muen silently put away his blade and looked at the commoners who had suddenly appeared.
Once they were certain Old Ghost was truly dead, they looked at each other. After a few silent exchanges, the middle-aged man finally stepped forward with trembling legs and approached Celicia.
"Pri... Princess, are you alright?"
The man seemed incredibly timid and awkward, not even daring to look Celicia in the eye.
"I am fine. Lift your head."
"Oh, oh."
At Celicia’s command, the man tremulously raised his head, revealing a haggard and aged face.
"What is your name?" Celicia asked. "Who are you people?"
"I... they all call me Old Luke. As for who we are... we're just ordinary people living in the nearby streets..."
The man spoke haltingly.
"Last time, when the Lower District was in chaos, so many of our families turned into monsters. I was the same... my children, my wife, they all turned and died. If my wife hadn't saved me right before she lost her mind, I would have been eaten by my own children."
Old Luke’s eyes were dull. He didn't sound pained; he sounded numb, like stagnant water.
"There’s chaos again tonight, and many people turned into monsters again. So, we gathered together to protect ourselves. We just happened to see this, and... we didn't disturb Your Highness, did we?"
"...No."
So they were victims of the beastification? Muen thought. In that case, killing Old Ghost—the man who distributed the drug—could be considered a form of revenge.
Even if it was only partial.
Celicia silently clenched her fists, her eyes downcast. She shook her head and said, "It is thanks to you. Thank you."
"No, no!"
Old Luke waved his hands in a panic. "It’s we who should be thanking you, Your Highness!"
"Me?"
"Yes! You saved our lives. Do you remember? Back at the bridge... I, and many of us, were saved by Your Highness."
"The bridge... so it was then."
Celicia thought for a moment and finally remembered. Old Luke was referring to when she had ordered the bridge to be lowered, allowing the commoners to enter the Upper District to recover while she dealt with the pursuing Beast-transformed Ones.
"There is no need for thanks. I only did what I should have done."
Celicia felt no joy, only a sense of guilt.
Because if one traced everything back to its source, the tragedy these people faced was born from the power struggles between "rulers" like herself.
Her hands were likely stained with their blood as well.
"I am sorry."
"Eh? Why is Your Highness apologizing? You are a good person; we all know it."
Old Luke scratched his head, looking embarrassed.
Perhaps it was Celicia’s attitude that allowed him to relax slightly, losing some of his earlier stiffness.
As he spoke, he turned to look toward the Golden Great Tree.
"Your Highness, were you fighting that thing just now? I saw you fly over from that direction."
"...Yes."
After a moment's hesitation, Celicia answered truthfully.
The Heaven's Sword was, after all, the symbol of the Emperor. Because of that, these people would surely see her as a rebel... Celicia thought, bracing herself for their anger or terror.
"Then it must not be anything good," Old Luke said suddenly.
"Eh?"
A rare look of surprise appeared on Celicia’s cold face. She turned to Old Luke and asked, "Why?"
"Because... a tree that big must suck up so many nutrients... if the wheat harvest is bad this year, the price of bread will go up again!"
Old Luke sighed. "It’s rare to have a year where bread prices don't rise. I really hope it stays that way forever."
"..."
Celicia opened her mouth, but no words came out.
A strange emotion swirled deep within her heart.
"Ah, right. Speaking of bread, is Your Highness hungry? I still have some bread left on me."
Seeing Celicia’s pale face, Old Luke reached into his robes like he was presenting a treasure. He pulled out a piece of bread wrapped in three layers of cloth.
But it was just a piece of black bread—the kind that cost five Emiels a pound.
In the homes of the Great Nobles in the Upper District, no one would even use it to wipe their shoes.
"Ah..."
Old Luke realized his mistake. He was trying to give a noble Princess black bread; it was incredibly disrespectful.
He quickly tried to pull his hand back. "I... I'm sorry. I got ahead of myself. Please forgive me, Your Highness..."
However... his hand felt empty. When he looked up, he saw that Celicia had already taken the black bread.
Celicia took a small bite.
A coarse, bitter taste immediately filled her mouth.
Unprocessed husks and tiny bits of grit were mixed into the bread. It was difficult to chew, let alone swallow.
And yet, this was the thing that the majority of people in this city cared about most.
More than the Heaven's Sword, more than the Golden Great Tree, more than the high-and-mighty throne of the Emperor... they cared about this.
"It won't go up."
After swallowing the piece of bread, Celicia looked up at the distant Golden Great Tree.
The golden light reflected in her ice-lake eyes like a roaring fire.
"The price of bread will not go up. I promise you."