Chapter 269: Act 36 – The Valkyrie Princess (First Update)
“Ampere Seale—?”
The girl sitting on the bench looked surprised at her close friend—a half-elf princess with long, flowing silver hair that softly cascaded over her princess gown, her slender body resembling that of a doll. Her light silver eyes were filled with calmness and composure. However, this seemingly delicate girl was known for her strong-willed personality in the noble circles.
The silver short sword embedded with an emerald that she carried looked like a decorative blade for noble ladies to defend themselves and for self-harm, but Margadale had no doubt that she could easily subdue an adult man with that sword—of course, this statement might not be entirely accurate. The princess’s swordsmanship was renowned within the royal family; even a formal knight of the kingdom would not be her match.
The girl pressed her hands on her knees and couldn’t help feeling a bit envious. She was also a princess, from the Manticore Duchy, and had known Grifian since childhood. They had always been close friends. But she envied her friend’s ability to naturally express her external strength, even in the details of her every subtle movement, showcasing the princess’s very autonomous nature. In contrast, she had grown up learning strict noble etiquette, and although well-mannered and knowledgeable, outsiders always saw her as a gentle, quiet, and elegant young lady.
In fact, she could be said to embody the ideal of most noble young ladies in Vaunte—
But Margadale herself did not like this kind of praise. She wanted to pursue the life she desired freely—only she didn’t even know what kind of life she hoped for, and her serious nature forced her to take on her own fate. The Manticore Duchy was merely a small country north of Erluin, and for a girl of her status, the future was a thread already predetermined in the weaving.
“Why have I suddenly been sent to Ampere Seale, Grifian? Is it because of the war?”
The half-elf princess nodded.
A loud cheer suddenly erupted outside the balcony; the knights were in combat on the square. But the noise quickly subsided, not affecting the conversation between the two girls inside.
“Has the situation become this tense?” Margadale asked softly.
“What do you think, Tine? My brother is acting faster than I imagined. The dukes have already formed a coalition. Although that old fox Anlek is still hesitant, I think he will make a decision soon,” the silver-haired girl recounted unhurriedly, as if she were discussing something unrelated to her.
“Perhaps there is still a chance, Grifian,” Margadale couldn’t help but say.
“It’s not that simple, Tine. Anlek has always been ambitious. He wants legitimacy; he must either stand with my dear brother or with us,” the half-elf princess paused and said quietly, “I wouldn’t mind a marriage alliance, but I worry this might harm Haruz instead.”
Thus, the girl sitting opposite her fell silent, calmly looking at her. They were both close friends who understood each other well enough not to be daunted by such challenges.
Because if she were, she wouldn’t be the princess of Erluin.
“Actually, I’m mainly worried about Count Rendener,” the silver-haired girl lowered her voice, “If Duke Anlek is the dark cloud in the northern sky, threatening to bring storms at any moment—he could still be our ally if the wind blows in the right direction. But I suspect the earl behind him could show us a dagger at any moment.”
A glimmer of interest flashed in Margadale’s brown eyes, and she suddenly spoke up, “I happened to hear some things, Grifian, that you might find interesting.”
“Go ahead, Tine.”
The princess of the Manticore Duchy leaned in slightly: “I have a friend who just sent me a magical letter from Count Rendener. He mentioned that Count Rendener seems to be encountering some troubles; there have been some rebellions in his territory. I think he might not have the time to care about matters outside his domain for a while.”
“Is it a friend from the Temple?” the half-elf princess asked seriously.
Margadale nodded gently.
The silver-haired girl looked earnestly at her close friend. Although she did not possess elven blood, her beauty was equally on par with her own—yet distinctly different, with soft golden hair that seemed to be cloaked in a halo of sacred light, accentuating her serene and gentle face.
This girl was referred to as the “Furrowed-Brow Angel” for good reason, despite such beauty being extraordinarily rare among humanity. Grifian couldn’t help but think of an ancient queen from a long-fallen human empire renowned for her beauty.
Yet that queen’s fate had ultimately been quite tragic, prompting her to furrow her brow slightly and dismiss the thought from her mind.
Moreover, Margadale herself was a deeply devout believer; she maintained a close relationship with the Temple of Fire and shared a very good personal friendship with many of the priests from various regions within the Temple. Because of this harmonious relationship with the Temple, she was playfully referred to as the “Valkyrie Princess” by many nobles.
The high priest of the Temple had publicly praised her devotion to faith, and precisely for this reason, the Valkyrie Princess had not been disturbed too much for her beauty.
Because, as is often the case, between royal power and religious authority, the former evokes desire, while the latter commands respect.
“Tine, do you remember a joke we heard while learning royal etiquette together?” the half-elf princess suddenly asked: “—In Erluin, no lord would fail to handle one or two rebellions; otherwise, he is not a true lord.”
Margadale smiled slightly, mostly recalling the carefree days of the past thanks to Grifian’s words.
“Actually, it’s pretty much the same everywhere, Grifian.”
“Yes,” the silver-haired girl nodded, “So don’t hope for others to act differently. I just hope Count Rendener becomes flustered for a while, but we still have our duties to fulfill.”
“So what can I do, Grifian?”
“I hope you can use your connections with the Temple to persuade the merchants of Ampere Seale to reject the coalition’s request to travel south,” the half-elf princess replied. “Tine, they are under the Temple’s protection and have the capability, but I’m worried those merchants will be tempted by profit—”
“I know the presiding priest in the Ampere Seale region. I can give it a try.” Margadale thought for a moment and then asked, “But when should I set off, Grifian?”
“No need to rush,” Grifian said, “The moment you walk out of here, I suspect the dukes will immediately get wind of it. This matter is dangerous, Tine; you need to think carefully. Although you are my good friend, I do not want you to run into trouble—”
“That’s exactly why I want to help you, Grifian.”
“Thank you,” the silver-haired girl glanced towards the balcony—once again, the sound of cheers erupted. This indicated that a victorious knight had emerged from the competition—a silver flash sparked in her eyes: “Let me help you select a few individuals who can accompany you on this task and ensure your safety, Tine—”
“Then I definitely want Sister Nymesis,” Margadale said with a rare sly smile, a side of her that only appeared in front of Grifian. “With her around, I’ll have someone to talk to and relieve my boredom.”
The princess smiled slightly: “You’re quite bold to ask for my finest knight. But since it’s like this, I have no choice but to part with her—just take good care of Sister Nymesis; her temper is much worse than mine.”
“Naturally.” Margadale blinked her eyes.
Though it was said this way, the truth was that all three were friends who had known each other since childhood. They understood each other’s personalities very well. Although Nymesis had a naturally aloof demeanor, she wasn’t someone who would haphazardly lash out at others.
At that moment, another wave of tsunami-like cheers erupted outside the balcony, overwhelming all sounds inside the room. This time was different from the previous occasions; the boisterous crowd showed no signs of abating, making both of them familiar with this scene understand—this indicated that the final phase of the knight competition was approaching.
The half-elf princess was momentarily distracted by the sound. She raised her head, her light silver eyes sparkling. After a moment, she spoke, “Let’s go see which remarkable young men might have the honor to accompany Tine—”
Margadale nodded with a smile.
…
The second round of the competition was about to begin—
Freya’s palms were slick with sweat, and her heart raced. If the audience outside could scrutinize the face of this girl from the countryside of Buche carefully, they would surely notice the blush of a ripened apple on her cheeks—she was breathing heavily, sweat trickled down her pointed chin, and her military uniform was already soaked through. Multiple bouts had left this future Valkyrie feeling somewhat physically drained.
She had fought through numerous opponents and garnered much attention. As a new member among this cohort of young trainees, her performance could be said to be excellent. But Freya knew she wasn’t the only remarkable one; in another arena, Brensen and three other trainees also shone as some of the most dazzling presences among this batch of young scholars.
She wiped the sweat from her chin. Compared to them, she indeed seemed to be the least outstanding among the group.
Brensen had defeated his opponent—a member of the reserve knight corps one rank above him—in just three moves during the last bout. When Freya witnessed that scene, she realized that this once-brash and somewhat immature young man had now matured and become more composed, and his swordsmanship had progressed to such a level.
Freya could almost imagine the brilliance of Brensen’s extraordinary talent shining through in his sword, for he now had found his own place; this was his best stage.
Yet in contrast, she felt a bit lost. (To be continued. To find out what happens next, please visit the site for more chapters and support the author by reading the official version!)
