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Chapter 14: Festival City, Caron (4)
“Sis… shouldn’t we stop that man?”
Tenesia, who had come to the masquerade with her younger brother, Tenev, felt increasingly uneasy amid the commotion in the tavern.
I should intervene… but…
“Do you even know who you’re messing with?”
Michael, unmasked, glared, and Tenesia hesitated to step forward.
Of all times, during a secret excursion… If I act rashly, this could escalate quickly.
In her younger years, she would never have tolerated such injustice. But time and responsibility had tempered that impulsive streak. Now, in a position where every action carried weight, she could not move freely.
“Hey… let’s stop here, shall we?”
A man stepped forward.
“Now, now… sir, I think you’ve had a bit too much. Let’s settle this peacefully, shall we?”
Despite the tense atmosphere, he bravely tried to mediate.
“Do you even know who I am?”
But the man paid no heed. Even the servants tried to intervene, yet the situation only grew more chaotic. Finally, Tenesia decided she had to act—but then came a sudden sound: CRASH!
She froze at the man’s unexpected move.
Is he sane?
Surely he knew whom he was facing.
“Ugh… ughhh…”
Tenesia stared at Michael, bloodied and slumped against a shattered table, and realized the gravity of the situation.
It’s escalated too far.
She had hesitated too long. Now, neither the man nor the tavern staff could escape the consequences.
No time to think.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
A dozen or so guards drew their swords and trained them on him, yet Tenesia prepared to intervene once more.
“Do you even know who you’re pointing that blade at?”
Michael removed his mask, addressing the guards directly. Tenesia’s movement froze again.
What… is happening?
The guards, seeing his face, froze as if they had seen a ghost. Their hands trembled. Though a conversation seemed to be happening, the words were lost to distance.
“Seems both sides were at fault. Let’s end this here.”
A white-masked figure appeared, and the situation was resolved with surprising smoothness. The guards escorted the fallen man out, while Michael, whose actions had caused the chaos, moved with composure to ease the tension.
Impressive.
His methods were rough, but under the circumstances, they were perfect.
“Sis… isn’t that man amazing?”
“…I suppose.”
Though she couldn’t say he was truly admirable, she saw no need to contradict Tenev’s excitement.
“Who could he be? Why did those ruffians freeze at just his face?”
Tenesia shared the same curiosity. Who could inspire such fear merely by presence?
He must hold a position higher than that man…
She didn’t really want to know. Delving too deeply into another country’s affairs was unwise.
“Sis… can we ask him to eat with us?”
Tenev’s eyes sparkled as he asked.
“Eh? No?”
“Tenev… have you forgotten we came here in secret? We’re just here for the festival.”
“But still…”
“No. We cannot get involved with anyone. Remember that.”
“Teehee… just one meal, please?”
“No is no.”
Tenev might be disappointed, but there was no other choice. Even among nobility, there were boundaries.
But then—
“Die!”
Thud!
The tavern’s swinging doors flew open. Michael entered, sword in hand, radiating lethal intent.
Danger!
Tenesia had no time to think; she dashed forward to intervene.
“…Wow.”
Wesley watched in awe as the woman subdued Michael in mere seconds.
“Right… wrong moment for awe,” he muttered.
He kicked the fallen Michael once, then approached Tenesia, extending his hand.
“Thank you… I am—”
“Please, no introductions,” Tenesia interrupted, pressing a finger to her lips.
The masquerade is about anonymity, she reminded.
Wesley had hoped to learn her name, but with that command, he had nothing further to ask.
“I see… Thank you, nonetheless.”
“I did only what was necessary.”
As their hands reached for a handshake, Sara and her companions entered, interrupting.
“My lord! I-I apologize… our master suddenly—”
“Haah.”
Wesley retracted his hand, brushing back his red hair, slightly embarrassed.
“It’s fine. This matter will be handled officially; you may return and wait.”
There was no need to entertain needless chatter. True masters offered no opportunity for negotiation.
“Yes, but… we should have had the chance to apologize…”
“No. Officially, by letter. Don’t waste words.”
Sara realized just how grave their position had become.
The Summerfield house is finished.
Without the chance to defend themselves, they would face the royal family’s wrath. Darkness clouded Sara’s mind as she led Michael out.
Thud!
Wesley gave Michael another kick to the back of the head.
“Yes, sir,” Sara muttered, moving him outside.
After the incident, Wesley and Ruff settled at a table for their meal.
“…Hey.”
“Yes?”
“What’s with your expression?”
Ruff chewed his steak, furrowing his brow.
“My expression?”
“Something bothering you?”
“No.”
“You’re not blaming yourself for not reacting faster, are you?”
He didn’t answer, confirming Wesley’s suspicion.
I was just testing the waters…
“Don’t dwell on it. Even if you hadn’t acted, I could have handled him.”
Ruff’s mood seemed sour, pride wounded. Best to let it pass naturally.
As they quietly ate, Ruff suddenly rose.
Where’s he going?
Probably just clearing his head…
…but then he pointed to the table where the silver-haired woman sat.
“Shall we join them?”
Hunting, huh?
Ruff’s thoughts ran through the incident.
How did she react faster than I could?
When Michael swung his sword, Ruff had instinctively prepared to counter with Mana Heart. But she, at a distance, moved faster than his reflexes should have allowed.
No magic… none sensed at all.
Her speed seemed innate, not aided by mana.
She’s strong… incredibly strong.
The silver hair, the cold blue eyes behind the mask—Ruff knew only one person could match that description.
For her sake… for Tenesia’s sake…
Ruff approached her table, bowing respectfully.
“Excuse my interruption. I am Ruff of the Diesel family, Kingdom of Liechtenstein. I greet the Grand Duke of Beltgard in the north, Tenesia Alisys de Beltgard.”
In the far north of the empire, where winter never ended and the frost wind cut to the bone, the Beltgard Duchy thrived. Tenesia ruled as Grand Duke and was one of the continent’s few Sword Masters.
“Sis! He knows us!”
“Shh. Stay calm.”
Tenesia responded naturally, hiding her knowledge.
“I won’t make excuses.”
She could not ignore the Diesel family, who maintained critical supplies to the harsh northern regions.
“Pleased to meet you, Lord Ruff.”
“The honor is mine, Your Grace.”
A brief handshake followed.
“I’m glad to meet the eldest of the Diesel family here, but we’re enjoying a secret family outing.”
“We’re much the same—currently on a secret date with the crown prince.”
“…Crown Prince?”
Tenesia and Tenev reacted sharply.
Could it really be the Crown Prince…?
“Rest assured. He does not know your identity,” Ruff added with a light smile.
“Why tell us this?”
Ruff’s next words stunned Tenesia further:
“I need your help, Your Grace. It concerns the Crown Prince’s life.”
“…What?”
Her mind went blank at his seriousness.
