Chapter 51
Duke Kamel Beatrice wiped the blood of the deer from his blade.
The nobles around him said,
“There’s no sign of him.”
The Emperor’s invitation to this hunting festival clearly stated that Duke Kamel Beatrice was to be present at this location.
“Did he forget?”
If there was something urgent to relay, he would’ve at least sent a subordinate.
The group was waiting on an island located at the heart of the hunting grounds. There was only one path leading to the island—a swaying rope bridge. At some point, that bridge had collapsed with a sharp snap.
Kamel Beatrice furrowed his brow.
It was clearly someone’s ploy to trap him on the island.
“Someone’s tampered with the invitation.”
Winners of the hunting festival were personally commended by the Emperor. Sometimes, they even received rare treasures from the royal family.
But Duke Beatrice didn’t attend the festival for such prizes.
He showed his face merely for appearances—maintaining minimal ties with the Emperor to prevent the western territory he ruled from suffering any political backlash.
“Whoever it was… how pitiful.”
Just how cowardly must one be to pull stunts like this to suppress him during a hunting festival?
“We’ll make a raft,”
one of the noble retainers offered.
Then—thwack—an arrow flew in from beyond the island and struck the tree right next to Kamel Beatrice.
“Ambush!”
Everyone drew their swords and moved to guard the duke.
But no more arrows came.
A keen-eyed noble shouted,
“Damn it. Over there! I saw someone move!”
The rope bridge was already destroyed, and the enemy was too quick to pursue.
By the time someone had picked up a bow, the figure had vanished into the brush.
Kamel looked at the arrow embedded in the tree. Attached to it was a tightly fastened scroll.
His retainers warned,
“Your Grace, it could be dangerous.”
“It’s fine.”
He pulled the scroll from the tree and opened it.
“This is…”
He recognized the paper immediately. It was royal-quality paper used by the palace.
“Delrus paper. From the feel of it… must be at least twenty years old.”
He knew because that paper came from Delrus trees that grew only in his domain.
Only the highest-quality paper was made from them. And he had memories tied to this particular type of paper.
His expression darkened as he unfolded the message, recalling his departed friend—and liege.
‘In the original story, the winner of the hunting festival was Duke Kamel Beatrice.’
But today, Kamel would give up midway and return to his estate.
To confirm the letter’s authenticity and form a new plan.
He wasn’t the kind of man to keep hunting after receiving a letter like that.
So who would win now?
Catrin smiled to herself.
‘Now that I’ve helped Etias by revealing the nameplate’s secret, no one here is better than him.’
Even without using Shadow Step, Etias was the strongest when it came to raw swordsmanship.
She was lost in thought, smiling at her internal bet on Etias’s success, when she heard rustling in the brush ahead.
“…Who’s there?”
She wasn’t worried. With Philios likely eliminated, no one left was a real threat.
But when she saw what emerged, her expression twisted in horror.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Right in front of her stood the black bear—the highest-scoring prey of the festival.
It stood nearly three meters tall, its paws capable of ripping someone apart with a single blow.
Groooowl…
She instinctively stepped back.
Too close to shoot a clean arrow.
‘What do I do?’
Wasn’t this bear supposed to be cleanly taken down by Duke Kamel?
‘Oh… right.’
Kamel wasn’t here.
She’d unintentionally triggered a butterfly effect by knocking Kamel out of the hunt.
“Damn it, damn it.”
The bear approached—one step, two steps.
It wasn’t hesitating out of affection. The way it looked at her…
‘It wants to play with me. Like a toy.’
‘Catrin, focus—’
But before she could even steady her breath, the bear’s paw came flying toward her.
She shut her eyes tight.
Then—
Slaaash—
A sharp sound cut the air, and something hot and sticky splattered over her.
“GRAAAHHHH!”
The black bear let out a thunderous roar that shook the forest.
A firm hand gripped her waist and pulled her back behind him.
She opened her eyes—and met a familiar, brilliant pair of blue ones.
“…Etias.”
Etias charged forward, despite the bear’s rage and missing paw.
His beautiful sword traced a path across the bear’s most vulnerable points.
Splat!
Blood sprayed as Etias stepped onto the bear’s shoulder, inverted his blade, and drove it into its skull.
Crunch—!
With a sickening crack of bone, the bear collapsed to the forest floor.
Catrin stood frozen, heart pounding from the shock.
“I told you to be careful.”
Etias pulled his sword free from the bear’s head.
His soft voice brushed against her ears like a dream.
“Catrin.”
Then he bent down, using his blood-dripping sword to carve a number into the bear’s hide.
When she saw the number, her hand jerked in shock.
‘97… That’s mine!’
“But Your Highness, you caught it…”
“No. You caught it.”
His voice left no room for argument.
The wind blew, tousling his dark hair.
Underneath it, those clear blue eyes stared directly at her.
“And this is just the beginning, Catrin. I’ve got a lot of debts to repay.”
Her heart thundered again.
‘What do you mean, Etias…?’
Before she could respond, the loud whistle signaled the end of the hunt.
If Etias hadn’t shown up, she would’ve been dead by now.
Still catching her breath, she looked at him with swimming eyes.
But she couldn’t say anything.
She didn’t know what to say.
‘His eyes… they’ve changed.’
Even earlier, when the nameplates were handed out—he’d looked at her.
“You’re a mess. Clean up.”
He handed her a handkerchief for the blood soaking her shoulder.
Something Etias would never have done for Catrin Elemoer before.
They weren’t supposed to be close.
They couldn’t afford to look close.
But knowing that—
‘Etias…’
She took the handkerchief, her heart beating wildly.
The hunting festival ended.
All participants returned, and soldiers began tallying the kills by the numbers engraved into each animal.
Officials were recording the points of each contestant.
“Quite a few withdrawals this year… one dropout too.”
“Besides Duke Beatrice and his men?”
“Philios Regalo.”
“Oh, that Philios Regalo?”
“Apparently, he got torn up all over. Looked like a rag doll.”
Hearing that, some noblewomen snickered.
“I heard he wore three layers of padded armor!”
“Seriously? And he said he was going to protect his ex-fiancée?”
“Disgusting. Even the wolves seemed to know he was trash. They might’ve just been serving justice.”
As their mocking voices reached her ears, Catrin wiped the sweat from her brow.
“Lady, would you like some water?”
“I can escort you to your carriage if you’d like.”
But now that the tension had eased, unwanted attention gathered around her.
She calmly fingered her arrowhead and locked eyes with them.
They went quiet and scurried off.
She wanted to say something biting—but was far too tired today.
As she reached for her aching shoulder, a voice rang out.
“We will now announce the winner of this year’s hunting festival!”
