While the Mercenary King was meeting with the regent of the Kingdom of Linelt and resting in the annex palace assigned to him, Fernan, accompanied by Hyde, was heading to one of the capital’s mansions.
It was early in the afternoon, and the sun was already setting as dozens of carriages entered in a row. The different crests engraved on their coaches made it clear how many nobles were present.
“What luxury.”
“It’s a banquet organized by the First Princess of the kingdom, what did you expect?”
Fernan had dyed his hair brown, styled it differently than usual, and partly covered his forehead. It was a way to disguise himself and conceal his identity to get close to the princess.
“Hyde.”
“……”
“Hyde.”
“……”
“Lycaon.”
“Yes, young master.”
Hyde finally responded.
“Who am I?”
“The second son of Viscount Dressel, young Ediz Dressel.”
The Dressel family was a noble house that Pellenberg had established some time ago.
It truly existed, and the second son was of similar age and eye color to Fernan.
It wasn’t a perfect alibi, but it would suffice for this occasion.
“Let’s go, Lycaon.”
Fernan put on the masquerade mask that covered his face. Just then the carriage stopped, and he stepped down.
“Yes, young Ediz.”
After all, that night’s banquet was a masquerade ball.
***
The ballroom was enormous, as if the entire mansion had been dedicated to the event. The turnout was large—nobles, their attendants, knights, and wealthy merchants.
All of them exuded an air of luxury and wealth, and as he observed them, Fernan couldn’t help but swallow.
“Lycaon, this is a gold mine.”
It was almost certain that more than half of the Kingdom of Linelt’s key figures were gathered there.
“But they’re wearing masks. Can you recognize them anyway?”
“A mask that covers half a face isn’t enough to conceal an identity.”
From their attire, gestures, and even the small visible details, he could deduce quite a bit. Some didn’t even try to hide—they wore rings with their family emblems.
“It’s a shame I can’t talk business openly with them.”
Had he attended as Fernan Pellenberg, he could have discussed trade freely, but Ediz Dressel was just a carefree young noble with no interest in family affairs.
Fernan took a glass from a servant and moved to a corner of the hall.
“The princess hasn’t appeared yet.”
Even while masked, someone of renown was always recognizable. So far, there had been no sign of her.
Then the herald’s voice rang out.
“Her Highness, the First Princess of Linelt, Lady of Harzen and Baroness of Belune, Yuli Linelt, makes her entrance!”
The doors opened, and all eyes turned to her.
“Wasn’t this a masquerade ball where identities were hidden?”
“Seems the hostess is the exception.”
With skin so pale it was almost white, long platinum-blonde hair down to her waist, bright lilac eyes, and a matching dress that radiated elegance, Yuli Linelt was undeniably beautiful.
Even the mask couldn’t conceal her allure.
Announcing her name while wearing a mask might’ve seemed comical, but within seconds she had captivated the entire hall.
“Princess!”
“As radiant as ever…!”
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before being surrounded by people. Meanwhile, Fernan calmly took a sip of his drink.
“Luina is more beautiful.”
“You’re not even trying to hide it anymore, are you?”
“What did you say?”
“That it’ll be difficult to approach her.”
“Of course it’ll be difficult.”
Every banquet had a main attraction—the one with the highest rank, the most wealth, or the greatest renown.
The evening was essentially a place for political networking, and the crowd always swarmed the most coveted figure.
Naturally, the princess would rarely be alone until the very end of the banquet.
But events like this were long. Between drinks, conversations, snubs, and scandals, there always came a fleeting moment when opportunity presented itself.
“Lycaon.”
“Yes, young master.”
Fernan spotted someone among the guests. He didn’t know him in person, but he had seen that face more than once in the reports.
A man of striking appearance wore a mask, but the small scar on his cheek was unmistakable.
“That’s the guy?”
“Yes, he appears to be Viscount Kyren Excel.”
One of the second prince’s trusted men, according to the Black Turtle’s report.
A thirty-one-year-old young noble who had risen quickly to the rank of viscount.
Since the princess had appeared, his gaze had been fixed on her.
Fernan knew that expression well—greed. The same gleam he saw in merchants hungry for gold.
“What nerve. Staring at the princess like that at a masked ball?”
Others would have at least pretended—but not him.
“Yes, he lives just as he looks.”
“Let’s go.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“One of the three is a corrupt. That’s my verdict.”
So they had to investigate each of them.
And find out which was the true enemy.
***
Night had fully fallen and the moon had risen.
The warm air gradually turned cooler.
Yuli Linelt stepped out onto the terrace to escape the stifling banquet hall.
The cold air brushed her skin, and the heat of the alcohol began to fade.
“Fuu.”
She signaled to her guardian knight, who bowed and blocked the terrace entrance.
She had felt overwhelmed the entire evening and wanted a moment of peace alone.
“How much longer must I keep doing this…?”
How many times had it been now?
She hosted at least two banquets per week—so many she’d lost count.
And those endless parties were slowly devouring everything she had built.
In front of her, they laughed and praised her, but behind her back, they called her “the princess blinded by vanity,” “the princess crazy for luxury and pleasure.”
With the king sick and demons and cultists spreading chaos across the continent, the rumors only grew.
Even so, Yuli couldn’t stop. Just as none of it had started by her own will, she couldn’t end it by her will either.
“Then whose will is it?”
A sudden voice made her shiver and turn around.
There were three men.
One with brown hair and red eyes.
Another with blue hair and brown eyes.
And the last with blue hair and black eyes.
All three wore masquerade masks, but Yuli immediately recognized one.
“Viscount Kyren Excel?”
“The viscount is resting a bit. He drank too much.”
The brown-haired man calmly settled the dazed Kyren in a corner of the terrace, which only made the princess more nervous.
“Gua—”
“I beg you not to call your guard and cause a scene. Technically, we were already here. Your Highness entered afterward.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Hiding like rats in silence?”
“Let’s say we were having a secret conversation with the viscount. Though, with how drunk he is, who knows if he’ll remember any of it tomorrow.”
“Who are you?”
“Allow me to introduce myself formally.”
The man bowed his head.
“I am Ediz Dressel, second son of Viscount Dressel. And this is my servant and most trusted guard.”
The supposed Ediz smiled, but to the princess, that smile was pure falsehood.
“That’s a lie.”
She knew instantly—that man was lying.
“And if it were?”
“I’ve already met Ediz Dressel. And his voice wasn’t this.”
“I am he.”
“Then show me your face. I remember it well.”
“Your Highness is very distrustful.”
The man sighed.
“Didn’t I tell you it didn’t match? I should’ve forced my voice more.”
“How could I lower it any further? I’d sound like a golem.”
“Acting is never easy.”
“True. Nothing is simple. Everything is done for money, and there’s nothing harder than earning it.”
The sudden exchange made Yuli frown.
“…What are you doing?”
“My apologies.”
The man bowed again.
“But first, would you make me a promise?”
He paused before finishing the gesture.
“What kind?”
“That you won’t reveal my identity to anyone.”
“And why should I?”
“Because…”
Their eyes met, and Yuli felt as if she were being stripped bare. It was a gaze that saw everything.
“Because only then will you be able to achieve what you desire most.”
“……!”
A chill ran down her spine.
“…Who are you really?”
“I’ll take that as a yes, and introduce myself properly, Your Highness.”
His brown hair slowly turned black.
“I am Fernan Pellenberg.”
“Fernan… Pellenberg?”
Yuli’s eyes widened.
How could she not know that name?
Even before the demons rose, that house was already famous.
Now, fighting cultists and demons, its renown had grown to the point that many considered Fernan, alongside Aint, one of the most feared men by humanity’s enemies.
“What is Fernan Pellenberg doing here…?”
“It’s a long story.”
“……”
The princess was confused.
Was this truly Fernan Pellenberg?
Why had he come looking for her?
But amid that confusion, she clung to a thread of hope.
“Only then will you be able to achieve what you desire most.”
That gaze that pierced through everything. That man claimed with certainty that he could fulfill her wish.
Then, if it were true—
“Allow me to introduce myself as well. I am Yuli Linelt, First Princess of the Kingdom of Linelt.”
She lowered her head slightly.
For a moment, Fernan hesitated.
There was a brief silence, and receiving no reply, Yuli looked up in confusion.
“An honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
He finally responded.
“And the reason I sought you out is one alone.”
His face seemed a bit paler—was it just her imagination?
“To eradicate the corrupt who have infiltrated the Kingdom of Linelt.”
Yuli wasn’t surprised.
That was exactly what she most wanted to hear.
***
The world turned upside down.
[“I am Yuli Linelt.”]
With her long platinum hair, snow-white skin, and bright lilac eyes, Yuli Linelt was dazzling.
But her eyes were dead.
Not even a rotting fish looked so hollow.
[“The princess of the Kingdom of Linelt…?”
“That kingdom no longer exists. It fell to blood. Aint Armian, they say you’re a hero. And your appearance confirms it.”
“That title is too grand for me.”
“False modesty is just another form of arrogance.”]
‘Aint Armian?’
Aint stood before her. More mature, stronger than he was now.
[“The 62nd demon, Valac, has descended. The palace fell first, and the kingdom was bathed in blood. There is no longer anything called Linelt on this continent.”
“…I’ve heard the news. It’s regrettable…”
“I don’t need comfort. It means nothing.”]
She cut him off, shaking her head.
[“I heard Armian is breaking a hundred-year seal to gather troops and fight the demons.”
“That’s right.”
“I firmly believe that one day you will exterminate them all. I believe in Armian’s fame as the natural enemies of demons.”]
Yuli’s eyes gleamed with blind faith. As if depending on it to go on living.
[“Yes. We will succeed. This world belongs to humanity.”
“I am weak. I know nothing of swords or magic. I could only run while my parents and brother died to the demons.”
But—
“I will not sit idly by.”]
Blood-tears ran down her cheeks. Her clenched fists also bled.
[“There’s a secret royal vault in a foreign land. Full of gold and jewels.”
All of it—
“I will invest in Armian. I ask for only one thing.”]
Yuli Linelt’s words were poison.
[“The death of demon number 62, Valac. And the head of Count Patrick Pirandello, the corrupt who led the Kingdom of Linelt to ruin.”]
The prophetic vision ended there.
“Ugh… my head! As if everything didn’t already hurt…”
When Gismond returned to reality, he was rolling across the floor of the training hall.
“Are you all right, senior? You suddenly spaced out.”
Aint Armian, who had knocked him down, was holding out a hand.
“It’s nothing.”
The pain of the prophecy was such that even Aint’s blows felt like relief.
‘Fernan met with Yuli Linelt…’
They had already introduced themselves, just like with Ahgrot.
‘And that secret royal treasure…’
There was no doubt—Fernan would never let that prize go.
Gismond fell silent, praying for the soul of Linelt’s royal bloodline, soon to be stripped down to its last coin.
____
Join the discord!
https://dsc.gg/indra
