Chapter 3
— — —
The days of sorrow, when I had to walk on eggshells for fear of being trampled by a powerful nation, are over.
"Hehehe."
I kissed the head of the Angel Statue, which I hadn't let out of my sight since I bought it.
"As expected, the protection of the angel is upon me."
I’m so glad I bought it.
I walked lightly and opened the drawer.
The small glass bottles lined up inside clinked together. I grabbed one of them, along with a dagger whose handle was worn smooth from use.
I made sure to check that the blade was still razor-sharp.
"Now then, shall we go hunt for ingredients?"
* * *
"Hehehe."
I laughed as I looked down at the soundly sleeping Deyan.
If I had to be precise, this man was an enemy I would eventually have to finish off.
He was a knight of a country that might have murdered my mother, a massive wall of defense, and a sword that would stand on the front lines if war were to break out.
If I were to nitpick even minor faults, he was also an illegal immigrant.
'So, there is no need to hesitate.'
Die, Dejan Vojislav Nemanjić!
I pulled out the dagger and lunged at the sleeping man.
At that moment, his eyes snapped open, and he nimbly threw his body to the side.
*Crash!*
The bed shook with a loud noise. He had knocked the bed over to use it as a shield.
"Tsk."
'He's disgustingly strong.'
He looks like a bear, and he has the strength of one, too.
"There is a misunderstanding, Grand Duchess."
Deyan’s voice came from behind the bed, which stood tall like a wall.
"Oh my. Are you awake, Sir Nemanjić?"
I replied in my usual sweet voice. That way, he would lower his guard.
"Could you please untie these bindings first?"
"No. I cannot."
I rejected his request point-blank.
"Then I will ask."
Deyan did not lose his composure.
"Why are you trying to stab me with a dagger?"
"Is there any reason I should answer that?"
The bed was blocking his view of my expression, but I smiled anyway.
'You should have just stayed still and let me stab you.'
I slowly approached the Demon Summoning Sacrifice.
* * *
With the dull movement, Deyan finally realized he was bound. Thick ropes were tied tightly around his shoulders, torso, and his neatly gathered wrists.
He lifted his head and saw Idir’s reflection in the window.
A delicate frame and a flowing dress. A woman with long hair braided up and adorned with various ornaments, smiling while holding a knife in her hand.
...Honestly, it was terrifying.
To think she would come to find a man who had been knocked unconscious, dressed so beautifully, just to try and stab him.
Even after being caught, she didn't drop her sweet mask, continuing to smile brightly.
Deyan swallowed hard without realizing it.
He couldn't believe this was the same person as the fragile woman he had escorted at the banquet.
No, if she had been like this from the start...
'Who on earth was I escorting?'
An escort hadn't been necessary at all.
"Grand Duchess."
Deyan tried to open a line of communication with Idir.
He had heard that Grand Duchess Idir Hubert was gentle in nature and never lost her composure in any situation.
Naturally, Deyan had believed those rumors.
'Until now, at least.'
It seemed the rumor about her being gentle was nonsense, but the part about her never losing her composure seemed true.
After all, there couldn't be many young ladies who could remain so calm while wielding a knife at someone.
"I apologize for crossing the border without permission. However, this was an unavoidable circumstance that occurred while I was carrying out my orders..."
"Sir Nemanjić. That doesn't matter to me right now."
"..."
"I only need your blood."
"...My blood?"
Deyan felt his heart racing.
'Why my blood? Did she somehow figure something out?'
Idir’s silhouette reflected in the window grew larger.
*Step, step.* She was so light on her feet that she made almost no sound as she walked.
'Peaceful conversation is out of the question.'
He suddenly realized that the pain in his abdomen had vanished.
His injury had already healed. The impulse to destroy and kill something frantically was not rising up.
Deyan was certain that he was in a state where he wouldn't go on a rampage.
'First, I'll untie these bindings...'
Since he was certain, there was no need to hesitate. No, it would be a disaster if he did.
"So just be quiet and let yourself be stabbed!"
Idir finally lunged at him.
Deyan, still bound, barely managed to twist his upper body and grab her two wrists.
"Grand Duchess, please, let's just talk for a moment...!"
"Ugh!"
At that, Idir bit down hard on his forearm.
"Do not wound my body!"
Deyan shouted in surprise, but Idir didn't even pretend to listen.
Even as she struggled to break free from his grip, she glared at Deyan persistently with eyes brimming with deep green.
Her spirit was fierce.
'If I have another episode, I don't know what I might do to the Grand Duchess.'
Deyan was cursed.
When his body was wounded, it healed quickly. Even if his heart was pierced, his flesh shredded, or his bones shattered, he would recover in less than a day.
In exchange, he would lose his reason while the wounds healed, and every time, all sorts of cruel impulses would take over his body at will.
Then, Deyan would always run wild like a beast, killing every living thing in sight.
Among them were his own subordinates and comrades. It was a natural result, as he could not distinguish friend from foe.
After being covered in blood and mud, a terrible, burning pain would invariably wash over him.
Getting hurt, killing, writhing in agony...
He had roamed the battlefield like a resurrected corpse amidst the recurring pain.
His family was raised for that purpose, and they existed for that purpose. Neither reason nor intellect was needed.
Until recently, that is.
"I am sorry, Grand Duchess...!"
Deyan twisted Idir’s wrists to change the direction of the blade. The blade caught on the thick rope that was binding his body.
Even though he was moving his wrists with brute force, Idir didn't twitch a single muscle in her face.
She just glared at Deyan as if he were her mortal enemy.
"I am truly sorry. Can we please untie this first and talk for 10 minutes... no, even just 5 minutes?"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
Realizing the bindings were loosening, Idir relaxed her grip on the knife. Then, she slammed her forehead into Deyan’s face.
She followed up by pressing the sharp heel of her shoe hard into Deyan’s abdomen, exactly where his injury had been.
"Argh...!"
Where and from whom did she learn such a fantastic attack?
His vision blurred for a moment, and his blood began to boil.
"Get off!"
*Crack.*
Deyan tore through the bindings and pushed Idir away.
"Damn it! I told you not to wound my body!"
Idir was sent flying by his strength.
'Blood again...!'
Deyan, having put some distance between himself and Idir, hurriedly wiped under his nose.
His body was heating up as if molten iron had been poured into his stomach.
'I can endure this much.'
He had had his internal organs severed and his fingers cut off before. A nosebleed like this didn't even count as an injury.
"I just need to keep my head."
If he lost his reason and ended up hurting Idir, there was a high risk of it escalating into a national issue.
If that happened, his mission would be a miserable failure.
The heat in his body grew increasingly intense. It felt as if he had been thrown into a furnace while still alive.
"I can endure it. This much is..."
It was a painfully familiar agony.
Deyan curled his body into a ball.
* * *
After rolling like a ball and hitting my back against the wall, I was completely disoriented.
"Ugh...!"
'The sword...!'
In the chaos, I was worried that the sword I had dropped might fall into Deyan’s hands.
I hurriedly stood up and observed his condition.
Deyan was curled up, his back heaving as he breathed roughly.
I could see droplets of blood dripping between the fingers covering his face.
Those few drops were enough.
With just that blood...!
"This much is fine. I can endure it, I can endure..."
The opponent was still curled up tightly, muttering something unintelligible very quickly.
He looked exactly as if he were possessed by something.
'He's full of openings.'
It was a shame I didn't have a weapon in my hand right now.
I felt like I could stab the enemy’s back right now to wound him and achieve my goal, but to think I didn't have a weapon to stab with at this crucial moment.
'Can't I somehow collect that nosebleed?'
Just as I was moving stealthily to reach under my dress and quietly retrieve the glass bottle, Deyan’s gaze, which had been buried in his hands, met mine.
"…!"
I gasped.
'His eyes...'
Deyan’s pupils were glowing with a vivid, crimson light.
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