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    At that moment, someone stepped in front of Caesar.

    “Your Excellency.”

    Caesar and Penadel’s gazes met in the void between them.

    Though the whites of Caesar’s eyes, glimpsed through the mask’s slits, had not yet turned completely black, the signs were ominous.

    Once the whites went jet-black, the beast’s transformation would progress to the physical form; at that point, not even the Valuaachten family’s abilities could reverse it.

    Penadel placed a cautious hand on his sword hilt and asked, “Do you still recognize me?”

    Caesar regarded Penadel for a moment, then let slip a short, derisive laugh.

    “Don’t be ridiculous, Penadel.”

    “At least you can still speak like a man. That’s a relief.”

    With a hint of relief, Penadel took his hand off the hilt. Yet Caesar’s next words made his jaw clench.

    “The beast is dealt with. Let’s go. There’s something urgent I have to attend to in the capital.”

    When they were alone, Caesar never referred to Theodore as “the beast”—not even by accident.

    Which meant that even this basic discernment had been eroded by the beast’s curse.

    Penadel moved to block Caesar’s advance.

    “Forgive me, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. We have a ‘plan,’ after all.”

    Feigning composure, Penadel drew his sword.

    “The place you should go is not the capital, but the forest behind you.”

    Caesar measured the sword leveled at him, then smirked, his contempt all the clearer than before.

    “It seems I’d forgotten military law: disobey a superior’s order, and death is the penalty.”

    Clang.

    Without a moment’s hesitation, Caesar drew his own blade.

    As Caesar’s chill-filled aura of frost streamed from his sword, flames and heat gathered on Penadel’s own, sparks of fire flickering along the edge.

    The two auras—fire and frost—collided, and soon a heavy mist began to blanket the area like low-hanging fog.


    A few minutes before reaching the enchanted forest.

    “I made a show of stern duty and all, but to be honest, I can’t kill His Excellency.”

    In response to my question about the plan, Sir Penadel made this abrupt confession, his voice carrying both reverence and despair.

    “His Excellency is monstrously strong. So was Lord Theodore. The might you two hold far surpassed the burdens of duty even the strongest knight of the north can carry.”

    Only Sir Cheri could fell Theodore, once a beast.

    And if he hadn’t done so until now, it was because the act had to take place near the enchanted forest.

    “The plan His Excellency and I devised is this: once he confirms Lord Theodore’s death, I’ll find a way to drive him into the edge of the enchanted woods. The forest will not let evil energy out—so while His Excellency harbors the taint of the curse, he’ll be unable to leave. That will buy him time to purify the curse without harming others.”

    Imprisoning Sir Cheri in a monster-haunted forest to wait out the curse’s weakening didn’t sound like an appealing solution.

    “What if…he never purifies the curse, and becomes a full beast?”

    “I prepared for that. I coated my sword with poison.”

    “What?”

    “A magical potion that gradually petrifies the body over ten days. It won’t affect a true beast, but for His Excellency, who’s only partially transformed, it will work perfectly. So he will either purify the curse in ten days and escape the forest to drink the antidote, or die, his body turned to stone before the full transformation.”

    Sir Penadel, who had ridden all this way with cold resolve, now turned to look at me.

    “That’s my plan. What about you, Marchioness—what do you propose?”

    It was a meticulous plan, accounting for both purification and total transformation.

    As for mine…

    “I’m going to tame Sir Cheri with my power, and keep him bound until he can purify the curse.”

    So bold as to be naive.

    “Amazing… You really have unshakable faith in His Excellency.”

    Sir Penadel refrained from outright calling me reckless. He only added, his face shadowed with guilt,

    “There’s only one shot at this. If we fail, you must mount your horse and escape at once.”

    “Why just one attempt? I could try as many—”

    “My lady, a beast’s curse is cunning. It instantly discerns its host’s weaknesses, and exploits them, driving the host toward corruption.”

    His glance lingered on me as he spoke of weakness, but I had no time to process his meaning.

    The black-green mass of the enchanted woods had just appeared in the distance.

    From that moment on, I lay hidden behind cover, watching the duel unfold and waiting for my chance to strike.

    ‘I’ve done all I can to prepare.’

    I gripped my pistol with both hands, the metal cold as ice.

    My power is to tame any creature that bears evil energy.

    With the curse, Sir Cheri now held an accumulation of such power within him.

    In the Siren’s Dungeon, I’d proved, if only briefly, that even a beast could be tamed—so in theory, there should be no problem.

    ‘Besides, over the past year, I’ve fired thousands of rounds under the excuse of stress relief.’

    With my last remaining coins, I’d even bought a “Weightless Presence Brooch”—a stealth item to erase all traces.

    All that was left was the composure to call forth my best aim.

    As Cerberus joined the battle, I took position, pistol ready.

    I counted backward, exhaling tense breaths. Instinct set in: nerves settled, and all my focus narrowed to the barrel before me.

    Holding my breath, I waited.

    The pistol was no longer a tool but an extension of my body. I kept my grip steady, patient, disciplined.

    And when Sir Cheri at last entered the center of my imaginary crosshairs, I no longer needed a fairy’s blessing to hit my mark.

    Bang!

    The moment I pulled the trigger, I felt it in my bones: this shot would hit.

    My presence utterly erased by the item.

    A direct, point-blank shot.

    Even Cerberus could not evade it.

    As expected, the magic bullet rocketed straight for Sir Cheri.

    I was already rising, gathering power to unleash a magic chain the moment it struck—

    Ping!

    But the bullet, aimed precisely at his head, was snatched effortlessly from the air by his hand and dissolved away.

    “What in the world—?”

    “Damn it, run, my lady!”

    Sir Penadel screamed with all the force in his lungs.

    Biting my lip, I clutched the pistol tightly.

    He had warned me I’d have but one chance, but I still had magical energy to spare.

    The cold I hadn’t felt in my adrenaline rush now swept over me, but I forced myself calm, closed my eyes, and steadied my breathing.

    Don’t rush.

    Wait until the right moment—a second chance to ambush.

    I whispered to myself over and over. When I opened my eyes again—

    “Lady Blanche. I knew you were here.”

    “…!”

    Sir Cheri stood before me, peering down with calm amusement. I stared up at the blood-spattered iron mask, dazed.

    “How did—?”

    “Come now, do you really think I wouldn’t sense your presence?”

    The smile on his lips was one I’d never seen before—languid, almost dangerously at ease. For some reason, goosebumps rose on my arms and all my hair seemed to stand on end. Instinctively I stepped back, scanning past him for Penadel and Cerberus.

    While I’d let my attention wander for a moment, Cerberus had split into three separate, dormant beasts, scattered about. As for Penadel…

    “He’ll be fine. I refrained from killing him for your sake. You would have been saddened.”

    “…You call that refraining? He’s battered half to death!”

    Bright drops of what must have been Penadel’s blood spattered the snow at our feet.

    I started to move toward him for proof of life, but Sir Cheri blocked my view with his body, his voice almost plaintive.

    “If it would spare you further worry, would you permit me to cut off Penadel’s breath entirely?”

    Ironically, it was the most human voice I’d ever heard from him, and the words were utterly insane.

    I realized then—Sir Cheri was truly no longer himself.

    Instinct made me step back, grateful at least for the pistol still in my grip.

    He watched me retreat, his voice gentle.

    “If you could look into my mind, Lady, you would surely be disappointed in me.”

    Continuing to withdraw, I tightened my finger on the trigger.

    “And Lady Blanche’s disappointment would be enough to tear my guts to pieces.”

    One last step—my back pressed against the massive trunk of an enchanted tree.

    ‘Now!’

    Though I dangled my pistol as if I had no hostile intent, I suddenly whipped it up to fire.

    “Ngh!”

    But my coup de grace was neutralized with humiliating ease.

    Both my hands were pinned in Sir Cheri’s right grasp, my body fastened against the trunk like a butterfly in a case.

    I looked down at my only weapon, now lying in the snow, then up at his hand—colder than any frozen snow.

    The realization struck: that’s how he’d stopped the magic bullet. Cloaked in aura, my power could not touch him.

    “Sir Cheri, don’t you think using aura on your hands is rather unfair?”

    He only smiled at my words, saying nothing.

    Note