[Lake Arondos, North]

That was all the evidence there was.

“It could be Prince Antor or Duke Karnos, or perhaps both. Can we do anything with this?”

“It doesn’t seem very useful. Let’s clean off the blood first.”

Achilleon tucked away the clue and turned around.

“How’s your body?”

Hari, who was washing blood off her face, looked up at him.

“Just a few scratches. Nothing serious. No injuries.”

“That’s fortunate.”

An ordinary noble lady raised in luxury would have fainted just at the sight of blood. Though she was merely a nominal princess, it was fortunate she didn’t show the disgrace of fainting at the sight of blood. If she had, he would have had to go through the trouble of carrying her body.

But was that all? Achilleon remembered the woman’s eyes filled with killing intent when she held the knife to the man. His failure to draw his bow at the right moment was because that clear murderous intent made him hesitate. A woman who could hide her true feelings and expressions behind a mask. As he had guessed, Margharita knew how to handle a blade. It was an obvious lie from the start.

Did she think he wouldn’t have done any prior investigation? He had already completed his research on the Lagonian tribe. While it might be true that she hadn’t handled a sword for a long time like the women of the desert, she must have maintained a certain level of skill.

When the time comes, when the necessary moment arrives, Margharita would stab his throat as if she had never submitted. With an innocent face pretending to know nothing. She would swing her blade with clear malice in her clear eyes. Watching Hari move quietly like a forest fairy, a chuckle escaped him.

Isn’t it interesting? The woman’s face, having confronted all the ugly sides of the world, remained as pure as though it had been left untouched by worldly corruption.

She was the same in bed. An innocent face with a not-so-innocent body. Each time he thrust into her, the voluptuous flesh swaying above her slender waist and her sensual moans drove him to fierce passion.

His gaze was captured by the woman’s straight white neck. When her thick golden eyelashes, the same color as her hair, blinked, the water droplets clinging to them rolled down her peach-colored cheeks. The white folds of her peplos swayed like mist with the waves.

He knew he shouldn’t be fooled by that appearance.

At that moment, Hari turned her head.

“There. You have some.”

Her snow-white hand pointed to the area near his cheek. Achilleon’s gaze followed the direction as he let out a languid sigh.

“Blood…”

The rain that had stopped began to fall again in drops. Achilleon wiped the blood on his cheek forcefully with the back of his hand. As he submerged his thighs in the cold water, the heat that had gathered below seemed to subside somewhat. The excited voice reached him just as he was thinking how absurd this whole situation was.

“Achilleon, look over there. There’s an island in the center of the lake.”

Hari gathered her skirts and began walking into the lake without hesitation.

“Wait-“

Despite his call to stop her, the mist parted on either side of Hari as she continued forward. Beyond that, the veiled landscape began to emerge hazily. Only then did Achilleon sense something unusual and followed. On the island they reached after wading through water up to their thighs stood a massive tree split in half.

It was the other half of the broken world tree Igrito. With a rustle, a giant reindeer emerged from behind the tree.

“It’s the king of the Els.”

The beast with large, solid golden antlers bowed its head before Hari.

“This mist, this water – it was all an illusion.”

Considering the sacred beast’s abilities, the environment made sense. On the opposite side of the mist, hundreds of Els stood quietly like paintings on the water’s surface. They approached Hari with light steps across the water’s surface. Looking at the sacred beasts gathering like clouds, Hari turned around with a face that couldn’t hide her urgency. With the same warm gaze she had given to the El, her smile directed at Achilleon sparkled under the clearing sky.

“You’re the winner.”

The sight of hundreds of Els spread before them was breathtaking.

“Ha.”

This time, even he couldn’t help but laugh. Such a vast number. It was a day worthy of worship for having suspended judgment on the woman’s fate in the past.

* * *

The trophy of the hunting festival went to Achilleon, who captured 220 Els. The king praised the third prince’s achievement in leading the Els to the palace’s protection zone and bestowed appropriate rewards. It was around this time that rumors began to spread in earnest throughout the palace that Achilleon, having gained his father’s encouragement and favor, might become the next king over his brothers. This caused mixed reactions from both sides.

Bang!

Duke Karnos’s body trembled with rage upon returning home.

‘Those f*cking idiots!’

The assassination plan had completely failed. This time they had targeted not only Achilleon but also ‘that woman,’ yet the utterly useless mercenaries had botched the job, unable to handle even one weak woman. It had been a mistake to hire the mercenary group with a large sum of money out of concern about being traced. His head throbbed at the thought of Achilleon and the Galate slave returning to their quarters amid cheers.

He put a lit cigarette in his mouth and began pacing anxiously across the carpet. It felt like Antor might burst through the closed door at any moment. This was already the second failure. What excuse could he use this time to appease that man’s anger?

There was another problem. For Karnos, who had built up his drug business by secretly hunting Els in the protection zone, this situation was a major blow. It would be different if the benefits went to Antor. But this was like cooking porridge only to feed it to dogs. Not only was he likely to get berated by the second prince, but his business was also likely to falter. Karnos’s eyes were severely bloodshot from the pressure that kept him from sleeping.

“Where is Selina!”

All he could do was shout hysterically. His daughter, who had stayed cooped up in the quarters throughout the hunting festival claiming she hated the hot sun, had acted pathetically as soon as she saw Achilleon and the Galate woman return leading the Els. For days now, she had been skipping meals and throwing things while spewing curses. Though she was his own child, it was frustrating to see her floundering in pathetic emotions instead of devising plans.

“The young lady has not eaten today either.”

“Is she planning to protest by starving herself to death? If she doesn’t want to eat, force her mouth open and stuff something into her stomach!”

While he was taking out his anger on the servant, the situation he had hoped wouldn’t come arrived.

The servant’s voice announcing the visitor sounded like a sentence of punishment.

“Master, the Second Prince has arrived.”

* * *

“He must be thoroughly bewitched by that devilish woman…”

Only when there was nothing left to throw did the exhausted Selina bury her face in her blanket. She looked terribly gaunt after just a few days.

“She must be a witch, not a priest!”

She couldn’t bear the unpleasant thoughts of the lewd acts that must have occurred between them. She had always been emotionally unstable, but lately, particularly deep depression and loss had overwhelmed her uncontrollably. She wanted to drive that woman away immediately but felt powerless and sad about her situation where she couldn’t. Even her father, who solved everything with money, couldn’t do anything because Achilleon protected that woman more than expected. This fact only deepened her anger.

It was then, while Selina was sobbing miserably, that she heard a knock. Certain it was her father coming to lecture her again, she cried even louder for him to hear. However, the person who placed a hand on Selina’s shoulder wasn’t her father.

“Ah, Antor?”

“When I heard you’ve been refusing meals and crying for days, I couldn’t help but come.”

The handsome man, who looked just like an angel descended from heaven, smiled while gently stroking her back. After staring at the man’s beautiful face as though she had been enchanted, Selina soon collected her tears and fell into his embrace.

“Antor, I have so much to tell you. You must listen to my request.”

“My, I’m quite disappointed in you.”

“The failure of this plan is entirely father’s fault. I’m already going crazy because of that woman, don’t you push me too.”

Selina’s face, streaming with pearl-like tears, was like a masterpiece painting. Indeed, she was undeniably a beauty acknowledged by everyone in Hitais’s social circles, so,

“Drive that woman away! You can do it, can’t you? I can’t stand the sight of her!”

Her pathetic behavior of whining without logic could be overlooked to some extent.

“That woman?”

“Hari. The wench Achilleon brought from Galate.”

Antor, who had been listening indifferently to her meaningless struggles, paused at the familiar name. The memory of the delicate woman attending to Achilleon in the bath slowly came back to life.

A weed suddenly taking root in Hitais’s garden. But as he recalled her face that held a splendid beauty like a poisonous flower, rather than a weed, the woman’s hazy image became increasingly clear. Wavy, thick golden hair and mysterious features that gave off a pure impression.