Rene Philippa couldn’t gather her thoughts. Even though she was known as a fearless heroine who wouldn’t bat an eye at most things, the series of shocks she had experienced at the tender age of seventeen was overwhelming.
The palace mage suddenly changed his face and imprisoned her. Magic erupted everywhere, and her long-standing home began to crumble.
Just as she was contemplating whether to scream, the sound of fighting reached her ears, and soon the hall fell silent. Antaen… or perhaps not Antaen. An assassin disguised as him… or a spy sent by the Emperor.
Why me? Pondering such things is a calm but foolish act. Rene was wiser than that. Why was I the target of this kidnapping? The answer to that question was clear.
Kidnapping the Duke’s daughter and imprisoning her, then occupying the Duke’s residence. Such a thing could never happen under normal circumstances. If simply occupying by force could transfer the Duke’s position and title, then the powerful vassals would have already attempted it.
Therefore, this is not a normal situation. To do such a thing, there must be a powerful backer. Acting against the Duke in this manner implies that the opponent is stronger than the Duke.
In this vast continent, this great civilized society, this world. Such an existence is only one under God.
“The Emperor…!!”
Rene is a clever person. Numerous hypotheses and conclusions flooded her mind. The Emperor is manipulating the Duke to secure permanent power.
A large-scale undead incident, heresy accusations, her kidnapping and imprisonment… It means he is confident. Even if exposed, he is confident he can handle it.
That was driving her to despair. As an ambitious woman, she believed she could resolve the political strife between the neighboring border nobles and the Duke given enough time.
But the Emperor. A meticulously prepared one. Even if this matter is publicly discussed, he is confident he can handle it. Such an existence desires her death, the death of Ribue.
The reason she wasn’t killed but imprisoned. It must be because she still has use. The only heir to the Duke. And a woman. A politically powerful card.
She quickly envisioned her future. Her father would probably be assassinated. Or perhaps already has been. Her heart felt torn, but her mind remained coldly rational.
And she herself, perhaps. She would be married to a match chosen by the Emperor. The completion of a puppet government. Swearing eternal loyalty to the imperial family, becoming the Duke who would usher in the era of hereditary emperors. No, in that case, she would no longer be the Duke. Only the Emperor and his vassal.
How many Dukes have faced such a situation? Not all the Dukes of the Empire were falling like Ribue. In fact, Ribue was a special case. The Duke’s family does not fall behind the imperial family…
As she was thinking this, a strange sound reached her ears.
‘Kill me, and burn my corpse.’
‘Brother Pascal.’
Brother? Pascal? The Inquisition Officer who came to investigate heresy accusations. Inquisition Officers refer to each other as brothers. A tight-knit organization, but… brother…? There’s another Inquisition Officer!
Antaen. Or rather, the spy disguised as him, is he dead? He was also a highly skilled mage. Did the Inquisition Officers eliminate him?
But the conversation was strange.
‘May there be a place for brothers in heaven.’
‘It is said, my life shall be a cornerstone of the bright world.’
‘May the Temple of the Gods bless us.’
-Crack.
A chilling sound of rupture was heard. As if a sword was crushing a person’s spine. A desperate and horrifying sound. The Inquisition Officer killed the Inquisition Officer. And then, footsteps approached her place of imprisonment.
What expression should she make? She barely calmed her trembling body. Fear always breeds in the unknown. She prepared to face the one who killed the Inquisition Officer. A murderer? Does that brute intend to kill her?
-Click.
The sound of the doorknob turning was heard. The door was sealed with a powerful spell. But soon. With a crack, a greatsword was wedged into the doorframe. She almost screamed. A gleaming blade protruded through the door.
Again, crack, crack. Mechanically. Like a woodcutter chopping logs. Crack.
-Bang!
As the door was half destroyed, the man outside roughly kicked the debris away. A familiar face appeared amidst the wreckage. Rene barely managed to wipe her trembling lips and spoke as calmly as she could.
“Albert of Dane.”
“Are you alright?”
“Fortunately, yes. Thank you for your concern. Have you come to kill me?”
“What…?”
“You’ve slain the Emperor’s spy and butchered the Inquisition Officer. Have you come to kill the witness now? Heretical Inquisition Officer?”
Her words made the man pause. He briefly looked at his blood-soaked sleeve. Soon, he sheathed his sword and shook his head.
What expression should she make? Rene Philippa was clever and arrogant. She would never show fear, even in the most terrifying moments. Facial acting is a basic skill in the palace, and she had been a palace person since birth.
But. Looking at those desperate, sorrowful, gloomy blue eyes, she couldn’t hide her expression. Unknowingly, her eyes reddened.
“You’ve come to save me.”
“That’s right.”
“Albert, yes. It’s the operation name of the Inquisition Officers.”
“Correct.”
She examined the man’s body. Half-rotted clothes, scars from fierce battles, and dried blood. A pale face and slightly trembling legs. Firm muscles and numerous scars visible under the torn clothes.
Rough…
