Chapter 22: The Hunting Festival (4)

The sharp, metallic scent of blood hung in the air—a stench that had once felt unbearable, one I thought I would never get used to. Now, it had become an everyday companion, assaulting my senses without pause.

Turning my head, I spotted a man covered head to toe in blood, desperately trying to flee. The moment our eyes met, he dropped to his knees.

“P-please spare m—”

Before he could finish his plea, my sword cleaved through his throat.

His severed vocal cords left him gurgling incomprehensibly, unable to form another word. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, not by any stretch, but I didn’t feel any revulsion either. After all, the days of vomiting at such things had long passed, considering how much blood already stained my hands.

The man fell, his eyes rolling back into his head. Around him, nearly a dozen others—men and women alike—lay in crumpled heaps, their throats similarly slashed. Each of them bore the same sinister tattoos on their necks.

It was obvious. These were the Emperor’s Eyes, created to replace the nobles killed at the last auction.

‘I had my suspicions, but this confirms it. Not even the nobles are exempt from this.’

The main reason I participated in the Hunting Festival, aside from the reward promised, was to identify who had been turned into the Emperor’s Eyes and gather intelligence from their markings.

“W-why are you doing this to us?”

A trembling nobleman clutched his defensive sword, backing away with unsteady steps. Wasn’t he the young heir of Count Griff’s family?

As I took a step forward, the man stumbled back two, only to trip over a rock and fall flat on his back.

‘How pitiful.’

The Emperor’s Eyes don’t know their true nature. Their bodies, memories, personalities—even their thought patterns—are perfect imitations, so they remain unaware that they’ve been replaced.

The markings on their necks can only be seen by someone at the level of a grand mage or higher, making their ignorance even more absolute.

Unwitting spies who exist everywhere, unaware of their own role. That’s why they’re called the Emperor’s Eyes.

“P-please spa—”

Before he could finish, my sword pierced his throat. The unpleasant sound of gurgling echoed briefly before he collapsed. I yanked my sword out and tossed it carelessly into my subspace storage.

Though drenched in blood, I wasn’t concerned. Magic would clean it easily, and as long as the bodies were disposed of, no one would know if the blood belonged to humans or monsters.

“...What the hell did you just do?”

I turned toward the voice, familiar golden hair and piercing golden eyes meeting my gaze. It was the Crown Prince, Leo von Schufenheim. Despite venturing into the depths of the forest where most wouldn’t dare go, he stood before me.

I had even triggered a landslide earlier as a warning, yet here he was, oblivious as ever. All this trouble just to track Adele and protect Estelle.

Is this romantic? Or just plain foolish?

‘And no escort, either.’

Was this boldness or stupidity? Did he truly think he could take me on alone just because he barely scraped into the ranks of swordmasters? Such simplistic thinking was exactly why he ended up as a mere pawn in the original story.

“I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing?”

“What I’m doing? As you can see.”

The Crown Prince, clearly enraged by the carnage, gritted his teeth and glared at me. Golden energy began to rise around him—his aura.

Even so, for someone barely holding onto the title of swordmaster, his aura’s quality was mediocre. Without consistent training, aura remains stagnant. His reliance on his royal bloodline had only gotten him so far, leaving him half-baked at best.

“I’ll kill you!”

He lost his composure, drawing his sword and charging at me. I couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle.

The Emperor’s Eyes can revive no matter how they die. Officially, any Eye whose identity is discovered is disposed of, but if he knew that, he wouldn’t be this angry.

‘It’s ironic that a princess without a claim to the throne knows more about the Empire than he does.’

How amusing.

With a snap of my fingers, a glowing white magic circle materialized in the air, forming a shield before me.

Clang!

The Crown Prince’s golden aura-infused blade clashed against the magic shield, failing to cut through. His “perfect strike” had been stopped cold, and the surprise in his eyes was palpable.

Did he really think I’d just stand there and take such an obvious attack? His lack of combat experience was glaringly evident, far more so than the level of his aura or skills.

“Begin computation.”

From All Directions, the sight of countless magic circles materializing in the air caused the Crown Prince’s, Leo von Schufenheim, eyes to tremble violently.

Yet, he didn’t retreat or ready a defensive stance. Clearly, his ability to assess the situation and react swiftly was severely lacking.

‘Well, what else could you expect from a wastrel?’

Before he met Estelle, his days were spent soaked in alcohol and giggling with women. Despite his unmatched strength as a swordmaster, he used it to terrorize others without hesitation—a disgrace through and through. That was Leo von Schufenheim.

A man with no brains but excessive power, he had become a universal punching bag in the story. His actions had earned him relentless scorn from readers—so much so that in the original novel’s comment sections, he was second only to the author in receiving criticism.

“Fire.”

White projectiles shot out from the magic circles.

Leo swung his aura-infused sword desperately to block them, but the bullets pierced through his aura effortlessly. No matter how much aura he had, its poor quality meant it couldn’t even properly fend off a single bullet.

“Ugh!”

The sound of armor crumpling echoed as Leo was flung backward. He crashed into a snow-covered tree, wheezing heavily.

Half-buried in snow that fell from the branches and spitting blood, Leo presented a pathetic sight.

Strangely, the image brought me an odd sense of satisfaction. Perhaps it was because I had once been among the readers who had gleefully joined the chorus of insults against him.

“You… bastard…”

“The Golden Lion Knights.”

At my words, Leo froze.

The attack that had targeted Adele and me during the banquet—anyone familiar with imperial swordsmanship would have quickly recognized who was behind it.

The Golden Lion Knights.

A knightly order formed to protect members of the imperial family, they were essentially the emperor’s ultimate weapon, wielded only by the emperor and the heirs to the throne.

But what would happen if it became public knowledge that these knights had attacked a duke and his fiancée, two of the empire’s most significant figures?

The answer was obvious.

Leo’s actions were tantamount to declaring hostility against the nobility. It would be a miracle if rebellion didn’t break out. As if he realized the implications, his complexion turned deathly pale.

“You didn’t think I’d figure it out, did you?”

“H-how…”

“Imagine how heartbroken His Majesty would be if he learned of this.”

Not that the emperor, with his deranged temperament, would feel anything of the sort.

“What… do you want?”

At least he understood the gravity of his situation. But his arrogance remained, as evident in the way he kept his head held high even now. Typical of an imperial prince who had never needed to consider others’ opinions.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

A kick to his armor sent him crashing into another tree. Leo groaned in pain, his golden eyes trembling with fear.

“Still can’t grasp the situation, can you?”

It was clear who held the advantage.

I was in the upper hand. He was at lower.

“Your life is in my hands.”

Would the emperor shield Leo after learning of his recklessness? Unlikely. This was the man who didn’t hesitate to cut down his own sibling. Compassion wasn’t in his nature.

Instead, he’d sever ties with Leo to protect his position. To the emperor, his children were nothing more than tools of governance. Leo, of all people, should have understood this better than anyone.

“…What do you want?”

Though his tone was still defiant, this was probably the best he could manage. Pressing him further would serve no purpose. It was better to get straight to the point.

“The Emperor’s Sword, Luke von Schufenheim.”

“…How do you know about that?”

His reaction to the title confirmed that he wasn’t completely ignorant of imperial affairs. He even knew that the Second Prince, Luke von Schufenheim, had become the Emperor’s Sword.

Considering that Leo’s ascension to crown prince occurred after Luke’s official death, it would’ve been stranger if he didn’t know. Despite not being the firstborn, Luke had once been the strongest contender for the throne, overshadowing Leo in every way.

“The mother of that man, Luka von Asrich. Where is she?”

– – – The End of The Chapter – – –

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