Chapter: 20
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Cedric dropped to one knee with crisp precision. Even in his brief reply, his determination to see the task through was unmistakable.
After Cedric departed, Claude turned back toward the manor, now alone.
The night before, he had received a report that assassins had crossed the Loren border. They had likely entered the castle mixed in with spectators who came to watch the recruitment exam, and by now were probably spying from somewhere.
As a precaution, the servants had been moved to the annex, and the newly recruited knights were distracted by the banquet. The security had been deliberately left lax—so by dawn, they would come for his life.
The more danger Claude faced, the firmer his justification for executing Pascal became.
There was no need to worry about the knights sent to Hoobre either. Loren’s knights, who could easily dispatch even high-ranking monsters, and Hoobre’s knights, specialized in territorial defense—the gap in skill was obvious.
All preparations were complete. Now it was time to rip out the rotten root once and for all.
Just before reaching the manor, Claude turned his head toward the darkened knights’ quarters.
It was where Jeanne would be staying from now on.
She was still in the manor this morning…
All she had done was move from the manor to the quarters, yet she felt farther away than she ever had back when she was in Brienne.
If he followed his heart, he wanted to pluck Jeanne out and bring her back to the manor. How wonderful would it be to put her back in the room she had stayed in and keep her within his sight all day long?
He hoped she would drink only moderately tonight. It was enough that he alone knew how adorable she looked with her face flushed red like a peach.
A soft chuckle escaped him—and at that moment, a crushing pressure slammed deep into the left side of his chest, as if someone had stomped on his heart. Claude staggered. But after a brief instant, the pressure vanished as abruptly as if nothing had happened.
What was that?
Having felt a sensation entirely unfamiliar, Claude stood still for a moment, one hand pressed over his heart.
The banquet atmosphere had gone beyond lively into outright chaos. Though it was meant to welcome the recruits, several senior knights had barged in, constantly urging them to drink to their hearts’ content.
As a result, the weaker drinkers among the recruits were vomiting or collapsing—utter pandemonium. Jeanne made a casual excuse about going to the restroom and stepped outside.
“Ugh. Honestly, events like this are the worst…”
Such gatherings were necessary for unity, but for Jeanne, who hated crowds and noise, they were anything but welcome.
She decided to pretend nothing was wrong and head back to the quarters. After suffering amid the noise, the quiet felt soothing to her ears.
Yes, nighttime should be this silent—
The sense of relief was short-lived. A strange discomfort made Jeanne scan the area around the knights’ quarters.
It was too quiet.
Any knights’ order would normally have night guards, yet there wasn’t a single one in sight. The area was pitch-black—an ideal environment for thieves or assassins to roam freely.
No matter how much this is their own home, isn’t this way too careless?
Her thoughts naturally drifted to Claude. Just as she was about to sigh and decide to scold—no, advise—him in the morning…
A chilling killing intent brushed her back, and every nerve in her body went on edge.
Before she could even think, her body reacted—each cell awakening with a will of its own as she spun around.
Clang!
Using her scabbard as a shield, she blocked the strike aimed at her back. In the pitch-black darkness, the sharp sound of metal colliding rang out.
“…!”
The dark figure who had attacked her flinched, clearly not expecting his strike to be blocked. It was only an instant, but the blades pressing against each other loosened.
Jeanne did not miss the opening. With her right hand, she drew her sword while shoving the shadow away with the scabbard.
The assailant was pushed back in the contest of strength and managed to regain his balance—but it was already too late. Jeanne’s blade cut deeply across his neck.
The sword slipped from the intruder’s hand, the clang of metal hitting the ground echoing loudly.
“Hrk—ghk…!”
Trembling violently, the man clutched his throat before his body tilted. He flopped like a fish dragged onto land for a moment, then went completely still.
Jeanne flicked her sword once to shake off the blood, but she did not return it to its sheath.
She stood still, senses sharpened, ears straining. There were no other signs of movement.
Even so, it was far too early to relax. An armed assailant would never come alone. In a lord’s castle, there was only one person the intruders would be after.
Why would you leave security this loose, you idiot!
Jeanne hurried toward the knights’ headquarters. The division commander on duty should be there—she intended to request reinforcements.
If this was a real assassination attempt, they needed to block the escape routes and capture at least one of them alive to force out the mastermind behind it.
But when she arrived in front of headquarters, she froze.
“What…?”
Why are all the lights out?
At the same time, ten men dressed head to toe in black slipped into the manor through a first-floor window.
Fortunately for them, the window was unlocked. Once the last man was inside, they hurried up the stairs.
Even with several people moving at once, not a single footstep sounded. In the oppressive silence, the intruders easily reached the fifth floor.
The man at the front spotted a massive door at the end of the corridor and raised his hand, clenching it into a fist. The assassins behind him saw the signal and stopped at once.
The man who had given the signal spoke to the one directly behind him.
“Where’s Tony?”
“Not back yet.”
Hearing the reply, the man clicked his tongue. If the one assigned to surveillance hadn’t returned by now, it meant something had gone wrong.
Even so, there was no turning back at this point. If they succeeded, they would earn a fortune large enough to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Unexpected situations happened all the time, and subordinates were disposable tools.
The man twirled his finger, pointing at the five standing at the rear.
“You five go down first and secure the escape route. The rest, follow me.”
“Will just five of us be enough? Our target is the Child of the Goddess.”
“No matter how strong he is, right after waking up his judgment will be dulled.”
The leader of the assassins drew his blade and stepped forward. The others could no longer object and split into two groups.
Five assassins, hiding their presence, stood before the bedroom door. When the leader turned the doorknob, he felt it give loosely beneath his fingertips.
Confirming it was open, they quietly pushed the door and slipped inside.
Seeing a man sleeping soundly on the bed, the leader signaled them to stop. Suspecting a decoy, he stepped closer to take a careful look. A thick blanket covered the body, but the face was fully exposed.
“Found him.”
Having confirmed it was truly Grand Duke Loren, the man signaled the subordinates behind him.
Two of them hurried to stand at the far edge of the bed. The remaining three moved in as well, surrounding it.
They exchanged glances and drew their swords.
Even the sound of scabbard and blade meeting was muted with care. Until they severed his breath, the Grand Duke must not wake.
Soon, all five assassins gripped their blades in reverse, tips pointed toward Claude—like worshippers offering a living sacrifice to their god.
“Be grateful you’ll die in your sleep. At least there’ll be no pain.”
Moonlight slid along the blades, gathering at their tips like droplets.
Five swords gleamed coldly, poised to pierce the Grand Duke at any moment. The leader raised his sword high, as if to place the final punctuation mark.
At that instant, darkness swallowed his vision.
“…!”
The man flailed like a monkey caught in a net. Panic surged, but soon his hands grasped something soft yet heavy—the blanket.
“Aaagh!”
“Ghk!”
From beyond the blanket came death cries and the crashing sound of objects falling.
Don’t tell me—!
The man hurriedly tore the blanket off himself. As his vision cleared, what met his eyes were four of his subordinates sprawled on the floor, limp, a red pool steadily spreading beneath them—and…
“I was getting tired of waiting.”
The Grand Duke stood there, calmly massaging his neck and shoulder with a bloodstained hand.
Leaving the security lax on purpose had paid off. The prey had taken the bait exactly as intended.
“Still, saying you’d kill me without pain—your consideration brings tears to my eyes.”
Claude mocked them, pretending to wipe away nonexistent tears.
“And thanks for moving exactly as planned.”
Despite his words, Claude leveled his sword at the intruders. Seeing the blade dripping with blood, the two remaining assassins widened the distance between them and tightened their grips.
“When did you realize…?”
“When? What do you mean? This was the plan from the start.”
Claude answered casually, then waved his sword like a conductor’s baton, pointing it at them.
“By the way, are you really assassins? With security this lax, you’d think you’d suspect something at least a little.”
“……”
“Either your employer offered absurdly generous terms, or the head of your organization is an idiot…”
At Claude’s muttering, the breathing of one assassin grew noticeably rougher. To react to such cheap provocation—Claude couldn’t help but scoff.
“Looks like it’s the latter.”
The room was dim, so he couldn’t see the assassin’s subtle expression, but it wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking. He would try to flee—and to do so, he would attempt to blind Claude first.
Claude’s gaze shifted to the man’s hand. It moved silently, as if reaching for something, and Claude had no intention of letting it happen.
Red aura spread along the fine blade, and without the slightest hesitation, Claude swung his sword. The crimson slash flew like a hawk diving for its prey, grazing past the assassin’s side.
The strike came down in the blink of an eye. Startled, the assassin dropped the smoke bomb he had been holding.
“Don’t move.”
When Claude thrust the glowing red blade toward him, the man froze like ice.
“…Why aren’t you killing me?”
“Because you’re still useful.”
The trap to catch Pascal had ended in success. All that remained was to obtain testimony that Pascal had ordered the hit.
“You have only one choice. Knights are already stationed outside the castle, so surrender quietly—”
Thump.
As he spoke coolly, his heartbeat suddenly quickened.
Thump.
Claude’s face turned pale.
Thump!
The heart that had begun to race wildly soon felt as though it were being violently wrung tight with pain.
