Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: The Night Before the Tournament (2)
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The party atmosphere had grown incredibly chaotic.
Like a massive boulder crashing into a serene pond.
Men and women buzzing like the rippling water's surface.
They watched with keen interest the arrival of a heavyweight rarely seen at these gatherings.
Her bold outfit—a stark departure from the norm—perfectly accentuated by her honed physique.
Sensual curves that contrasted sharply with the noble features inherited from her lineage.
She captivated every man's gaze, akin to a goddess carved in stone.
Yet she ignored the stares from everyone else entirely.
"Eat up."
"Pardon...?"
"They say long-tailed fish is best for recovering from injuries."
"I understand, but I can feed myself."
Her eyes fed him like a pet dragon doll raised on the bed.
I rolled my eyes furiously, signaling her to read the room.
'Is this person really used to parties? No tact at all!'
What would people think if the famously ice-cold Princess fed food to a man in public?
Camillia, savoring my reaction, spoke in a mature tone.
"Do you think I lack tact?"
"A bit, yes."
She let out a soft chuckle at my honest reply.
Perhaps due to the dress that highlighted her ample bosom, she seemed especially feminine today.
"A little disappointing. I did it all for your sake."
Camillia's blue eyes sparkled, catching the chandelier's light.
"Don't I need to do this much to keep small fries like those from clinging?"
"If they were knights begging for a match, I could've handled them alone."
I replied with a grim look that clashed with the festive hall.
"You could handle them, sure. But if the infamous you lays out three knights before the tournament even starts, twisted rumors could spread."
"Are the Imperial Knights really that petty?"
"Just look at how they swarmed when a rival got injured."
"You've seen this sort of thing often, then."
"It happened plenty back in my promising days. I'd break them so they'd never rise again, and they'd get revenge through gossip."
The Princess's image was indeed renowned for its icy ruthlessness.
To think that reputation had stuck with her since childhood.
No matter how many regressions, the shadows of noble society never changed.
"Anyway, wouldn't the image of being the Princess's close aide be better than some villain beating three knights before their matches?"
"But this way, rumors will spread that Your Highness took in a shady family for power."
Camillia tilted her head, fork in hand.
Her femininely soft eyes sharpened like a predator's in an instant.
"Do you think I care about that kind of image?"
Swordmaster confidence through and through.
No matter how others viewed the Princess, she was already a national hero.
It was only natural for a battlefield scourge to be cold-blooded.
With achievements so grand, any attempts to tear her down would only shatter their own nails.
"You still need to mind the public's gaze, but I'm fine."
She now held out the fork, urging me to accept her goodwill obediently.
With a deep sigh, I parted my lips and took the long-tailed fish.
Camillia watched with an enigmatic gleam in her eyes.
As if the serpent's tail had finally brushed her fingertips.
However, her triumph didn't last long.
"Your Highness."
One of her retainers approached and whispered the next item on her schedule.
"The Northern Grand Duke, host of the vigil, requests encouraging words after the tournament briefing. Shall I decline as usual?"
"It's no big deal. I can do it."
The White Horse knight looked flustered, expecting a refusal, but Camillia accepted readily.
She instantly picked up on how good Camillia's mood was today.
"Then I'll guide you to the rear of the hall."
"See you later, Derek Minster."
I bowed politely in farewell.
Afterward, I chewed on the fish dish she'd offered while trying to savor my solitude once more.
But...
The atmosphere around me—which had ignored me utterly until moments ago—felt strangely shifted.
"Did you see that...? Princess Camillia feeding him food."
"So the Minster family really latched onto the Princess's faction?"
"Then those rumors about them wrapping up all illegal ventures and going legit were true?"
"Could be. Maybe the Princess personally reformed and embraced him."
Power's allure was sweet indeed.
It could flip a dog's reputation in a heartbeat.
"Still too early to judge. So many of my contacts got burned by Minster men."
"Yeah, even those two handsome older brothers caused a storm—what about the shady youngest?"
Of course, a few still harbored resentment toward me.
But even they went silent as heavyweights approached my table.
"...?!"
A woman's shadow soon loomed behind me.
Turning around, I saw the Capital Defense Knight Commander—the Emperor's closest confidante—had arrived.
"Derek Minster, I take it."
"Ah, Commander Greta."
Her neat black bob and cat-like sharp eyes.
Her mana aura was solidly forged from ancestral talent and rigorous training.
"Why sit alone?"
"Princess Camillia was here until just now."
"Ah, everyone must've cleared out because of Her Highness."
"Not exactly, but..."
The commander sat at my table with a rough understanding.
With another heavyweight joining after the Princess, even those sniping at me were left speechless.
"Other seats look stifling, so I'll rest here awhile."
"What brings someone on Capital duty here, though?"
"Straight to the point—I like that. The others are too busy peeking nervously."
"Only the guilty sweat under the Capital Defense Knights' watch."
I replied boldly, sipping my whiskey.
Pleased by the response, she held out her glass for a pour.
"Odd hearing that from a Minster. Well, guess it means you're above board."
Her soft, lithe curves—like a black kitten—reflected in the golden liquor.
In her jade dress, she downed the drink I poured.
"I'm on judging duty for this tournament. Backup for ties."
"Looks like you got seniority-pushed. Youngest commander."
"Minster got an intel network? Saying it so casually feels weird."
"Just read between the lines. Talented youngsters get dragged everywhere."
"Sharp as a Minster tongue."
The bob-haired commander let out a light laugh.
"Show tomorrow's tournament prowess matching that silver tongue."
"I will."
The amplified voice boomed through the hall.
Chandelier lights dimmed slightly, drawing eyes to the emcee at center stage.
Cheers erupted, fueled by her renown.
The woman with straight black hair gave a light bow and pressed on.
"First, my thanks to all the knights and ladies who attended today. You are the North's hope and future."
Charisma worlds apart from the girl squealing over Wolf Boys merch just weeks ago.
I watched the Empire's rising generation with deep satisfaction.
But...
"I spot some familiar faces too. Recent lights shining on the Empire."
Linne suddenly waved toward my table.
All eyes naturally turned my way.
Attendees buzzed at news of my ties to the Princess, the Commander, and now the Northern Archduchess.
"He knows that icy Archduchess too? Just who is this guy?"
"Derek Minster, head of Minster Group. Looks like he's already entangled with the royals."
"Truly calculating. He's reached the Empire's top brass already."
"Shh. Don't draw fire. That's a dark underworld heavyweight."
Guests tensed like extras in a noir film.
I could only sip my whiskey with a resigned expression.
'Damn family, damn face...'
"This duel tournament boasts a far grander scale than before. Whispers call it the North's top sword selection."
Indeed, it dwarfed past iterations in spectacle.
Past ones were mere networking; this had huge prizes and perks.
"Moreover, we've got not just domestic but overseas participants too. It's gone international."
Overseas entrants?
East Continent swordsmen here to nab Myoran sprang to mind.
Heard they were from the Martial Alliance.
No past-life fights, but hunting Myoran meant top-tier skill.
No room for complacency.
"From Bakar Kingdom, Samad Empire, and even the Eastern Alliance's fringe. We ask your best efforts."
Linne snapped her fingers lightly.
The tournament bracket materialized in midair for all to see.
And so, I learned my first opponent.
'Dang Mujin.'
East Continent swordsman, no doubt.
Tutton's coalition targeting Myoran from the jump.
'Dang clan—probably a hidden weapons sect per lore.'
In this dark fantasy, East Continent powers ranked high.
My goal: top 10. Needed at least three wins...
Unlucky draw from the start.
"Finally, we'll wrap this dull briefing with words from our special guest, the Princess."
Linne stepped back, spotlights hitting the already-central Camillia.
Cheers dwarfing the Archduchess's filled the vast hall.
"Good to see you all."
Short and crisp.
Yet it seized everyone's attention completely.
"This tournament is a grand stage, watched by me and the Empire's elders."
She continued leisurely, wine glass in hand.
"Show your full strength, without shame before your ancestors."
The radiant woman in black raised her glass.
And...
"Especially since I'm watching."
She pointed straight at me before the crowd.
The prolonged applause faded as the waiting orchestra struck up.
Party lights brightened amid the lively melody.
As if they'd only waited for this, spirited guests rose.
The Princess's vacated spot turned dance floor, packed with youths.
While pairs headed out to dance,
the Princess returned silently to my table alone.
"Short and splendid address."
"Just the basics."
Camillia took a sip of water, then glanced at my plate.
A faint smile touched her lips at the cleaned sight.
"Derek, not going to dance? Your brothers loved spots like this."
"Not my thing."
"Same here. Childish stuff."
"Agreed."
Camillia munched a bit of cheese, silently eyeing the dance floor.
Women slipping oh-so-naturally into men's arms—unthinkable for her usually.
"......"
My gaze drifted to her fingers.
She called it kids' stuff, yet they subtly tapped the rhythm.
Come to think of it, I'd spotted a phonograph in her chambers before.
Piles of records stacked beside it.
But she couldn't savor the music in peace.
Stern-faced on the surface, a hint of regret as she readied to leave.
"No more music?"
"I'd love to, but can't be helped. Lingering invites headaches."
"Headaches?"
"Yes. You're not party-savvy, so you wouldn't know, but every gala has unwritten rules."
The Princess nodded toward noblemen stealing glances her way.
They clearly burned to ask her for a dance.
"Ladies who attend must dance at least once. Tradition."
"News to me. Sounds awfully contrived."
"One of the few boomer relics from ancestors. Why I never near the orchestra despite loving music."
So that's why she observed quietly from afar.
Even a war hero had her timid streaks.
"Plus, I rarely show at parties, so they won't miss the chance."
The Princess quietly prepared to depart.
I fell silent for a moment, saying nothing.
Then.
"If it's alright, may I have this one dance?"
I made the offer.
"...Huh?"
Camillia's eyes widened for the first time in ages.
She'd never dreamed I'd suggest dancing.
"Just once satisfies it. Dance with me, then enjoy the orchestra freely."
"Didn't peg you for a dancer."
Basic etiquette from my old Imperial Prime Minister days.
"Not fond of it either. But you showed me favors today—I should repay."
I rose from the table.
Silently adjusted my tuxedo jacket.
"Will you?"
Camillia gazed steadily at the orchestra.
Northern virtuosos rare even in the capital palace.
"...Well, with that much sincerity. But I'm no dancer, so keep it brief."
"Understood."
The Princess delicately placed her hand in mine.
We made for the hall's center together.
The sight delivered fresh shock to every attendee.
Men and women alike stared blankly at the pair.
Among them, women in masquerade masks.
Ones wearing black cat and pristine white snake masks...
Nearby guests flinched at the creeping killing intent.
'Something stings at my back.'
Minster dancing with the Princess draws that, huh.
Still, I paid it no great mind.
Repay favors swiftly to avoid fallout.
Just clearing the debt early.
With that in mind, I escorted her naturally—
Mad Moon's Masquerade
Puppet Masquerade
Hidden trigger: Activates if no specific action taken.
I caught a glimpse of the chilling message.
'Someone raiding the party?!'