Chapter 8

I returned to the ventilation shaft, finding a flat spot to sit.

Only then could I take a deep breath.

'He remembers me.'

The joy was unspeakable.

After retracing the secret passage and emerging from the well, I immediately returned to the castle's underground. Being confined, I couldn't afford to be away from my assigned area for too long, to avoid unnecessary suspicion.

Sitting on a haystack, I reviewed my conversation with the Duke, ensuring I hadn't made any mistakes.

Suddenly, I recalled something Arcadia had said.

"If you want to create confusion, you have to go this far."

Disruption – what was he disrupting?

"He said it was tough to break the stubbornness of the Southerners who kept trying to come this way."

According to him, Rahert wanted the banquet at the Blue Star Castle, but the Northern Duke didn't agree. Arcadia negotiated with the South to move the banquet from the castle to the main building.

Given Rahert's character, he must have planned everything the moment the castle was opened to the North, including the banquet.

'This might be a disruption to the South's prepared plans.'

Ah.

Could the 'disruption' mean shaking the stage set by the Southern Duke suddenly?

Changing the stage inevitably introduces variables in controlling the new scenario.

Perhaps the North had come prepared for something like this. No, not perhaps – they must have. It's only logical.

Can I contribute even a drop to their preparations?

Northern Duke, Zion Belphegor.

May he emerge as the final victor, rescuing me from this hellish Rahert household, to be the rope that leads me to a new world.

I cautiously scouted the main building's kitchen.

Poisoning could be done in many ways, but the easiest is through food.

As Rahert's dog and a half-faced girl, I was known in the castle, allowing me to lurk around. Of course, my status as a future assassin was top secret.

"Ugh, disgusting. Can't she leave?"

"Don't freak out, you'll mess up the food!"

The kitchen staff didn't hide their disgust upon seeing me.

My face, so grotesque.

The realization hit me anew, leaving a dryness in my heart.

Though I longed to cover my melted left face, the only mask I had was made to cover the right side.

Medea had never allowed me to reveal my original face, always hiding it behind a mask.

"Don't be ashamed of your real face. You're not grotesque at all," she would say, always keeping my true face hidden.

Now I understood why. The face behind the mask is my true self, the genuine granddaughter of the Emperor.

Dinner was approaching.

Shaking off my thoughts, I hid on top of another building with a view of the kitchen. No one seemed out of place, but I couldn't be certain.

'There are too many comings and goings.'

Then I saw the Freckled Caterpillar carrying a plate. A chill ran down my spine.

The castle's secret passages connect to each ceiling. I moved silently through them, finally arriving above the banquet hall.

Through a small vent, the blindingly white tablecloth and endless marble table came into view.

Northern Duke Zion Belphegor and Southern Duke Kramnel Rahert sat side by side at the narrow end of the table, the head position.

Perhaps to show equality, they sat next to each other, facing forward.

By etiquette, as the guest and victor of the victory ceremony, the Northern Duke should sit in the head position, but Kramnel did not abide. Typical of him, wrapped up in his sense of victimhood towards the Northern Duke.

Next to Duke Rahert, on the wide side of the table, sat Medea Rahert and her younger brother, Kahen Rahert. Beside Zion Belphegor was Arcadia Nugent.

I waited for the Freckled Caterpillar amidst the bustling crowd. If he entered the banquet hall, I was ready to set off smoke from above to signal danger.

Medea's voice, gentle as a spring breeze, reached my ears.

Despite the distance, my acute hearing as a Sword Master missed no sound.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Sir Arcadia Nugent. Without such an occasion, how could we sit down for a meal together?"

To the untrained ear, it sounded like a warm welcome.

But I knew better. Her words implied, 'How could someone like you dare to dine with me if not for this opportunity?' It was an elegant way to express her contempt, implying that someone of Arcadia's status, a mere second son of a Northern Count, would never dine with her otherwise.

"Indeed, it's an honor, Lady Medea. An opportunity I wouldn't have had if I were still on the battlefield in the South."

Arcadia replied, his voice a blend of courtesy and refinement. His tone, slightly higher than the Northern Duke's, resembled the anticipation of early spring after a long winter.

"We're grateful for your valiant efforts," Medea replied softly.

'Grateful,' indeed. Even the Empire's toddlers would scoff at that.

Everyone knew he was forcibly dragged into the South's web.

Yet, Duke Belphegor's smile held no mockery or anger.

The conversation shifted to Rahert.

"Medea, let's cut short these appetizer-like greetings. It's been a while since the North and South gathered for the Empire. Isn't that right, Belphegor?"

A subtle belittlement.

But Zion Belphegor maintained his calm demeanor.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Ha! Seeing you up close, you're remarkably stoic. Reminds me of your father. The late Duke Belphegor was quite unpretentious too."

"Was he?"

Rahert broached the topic of the late Duke, but Belphegor remained composed, despite the provocation.

I knew it was the Emperor and the Southern Duke who had driven the late Duke to his death.

Rahert's audacity made my heart race.

'The snake who killed my mother. Someday, I'll make sure you pay…'

The meal began.

Yet, Arcadia seemed hesitant to eat. Had the Northern Duke warned him about poison?

"Is there something wrong with the food?" Kahen Rahert asked with concern.

"Kahen, are you belittling the Rahert family's chefs?"

Medea replied sweetly to her brother, but her words were sharp. Arcadia responded.

"No, the food is delicious. It's just unfamiliar to me."

"Belphegor, Arcadia prefers rough, hearty foods. Maybe he's just nervous. Is that it, Sir Arcadia?"

Belphegor's words prompted Arcadia's response.

"Sorry, Your Highness. Perhaps the fatigue from battle hasn't worn off. I apologize for any rudeness in front of these lovingly prepared dishes."

"Indeed, I heard it was a tough battle."

Rahert reluctantly brought up the battle, maintaining a serene facade.

"What can we do? With great power comes tiring responsibilities, like your recent campaign in the North. You've built a fine knighthood, Duke Belphegor."

"Your words are too kind."

Suddenly, I sensed something amiss.

'Duke?'

Belphegor's voice quivered slightly, and his hand trembled.

'Why, Your Grace?'

At that moment, the Duke suddenly lurched forward.

"Cough!" Zion Belphegor spat out blood. His hand, turned pale blue, clutched the tablecloth, but it wasn't enough to stabilize his shaking body.

"Duke!" Arcadia caught the collapsing Duke.

I stifled the scream trying to escape my lips.

What's happening? Why the Duke and not Arcadia?

In my previous life, the Duke was unharmed. Only Arcadia was lost, but the Duke left the South unscathed. So why now?

The Raherts froze instantly. Especially Medea, whose face turned ashen.

"The knights! The Duke has collapsed!"

At Arcadia's shout, the Northern knights guarding outside rushed in.

Medea exclaimed, "What's happening, Duke?"

"He seems to have been poisoned! How could this have happened?"

Arcadia's anger was directed at Medea.

The banquet hall turned into chaos. The Northern knights drew their swords to protect the Duke.

"It's impossible! I haven't used the poison yet!"

Medea protested, almost roaring. She pulled out a transparent liquid from the drawer of her desk in the study.

"Look! The poison I prepared is still here! And Father, you know better than anyone that I wasn't targeting the Duke!"

"That's why! How could this have happened?" Cramnel Rahert, unable to contain his anger, hurled an expensive porcelain vase from Medea's room. It shattered against the wall near her.

"We're going to be framed as the poisoners!"

Rahert exclaimed in frustration.

Medea looked down at the broken porcelain.

Rage and humiliation scattered with the fragments, bringing back her cold rationality.

'Calm down, Medea. Especially now, keep your wits about you.'

She gazed at her father.

"Things are becoming clearer now."

"What are you talking about?!" her father demanded.

"The Duke of the North isn't as simple as you think. He's neither modest nor straightforward."

"So what? If word gets out that Belphegor is struggling for his life after a poisoning attempt, people will suspect us."

"No, we've always been the victims. This time is no different."

Medea's composure brought a glint to the Southern Duke's eyes.

"I didn't use the poison. Yet Belphegor vomited blood. Symptoms of poisoning, clear to anyone. How is that possible? There's only one answer."

The Duke, who had been thinking with his eyes closed, opened them.

"Did he poison himself?"

"Yes, a clear act of self-poisoning to put us in danger."

"Ha! Sly as ever. Just like his father."

Cramnel Rahert's fists trembled with rage. Medea smiled coldly.

"We must respond to this farce with our own. How dare a Northern wanderer from the battlefield try to catch a snake."

"He's after me."

"He won't succeed. He's not catching a snake, but provoking a dragon."

Medea laughed icily.

Cramnel Rahert was reassured by his daughter's smile. Since she was young, whenever Medea faced a tough battle or fierce competition, she always smiled like that. And the result was always 'victory.'

'Duke, are you alright?'

The Blue Star Castle was sealed off by the Northern knights.

No Southerner could approach the castle, and the knights maintained strict vigilance. The doctors were also brought from the North.

I was worried about the Duke's condition but could only watch from a distance, unable to get close.

Despite my worry, I couldn't help but question why, unlike my previous life, the poison was used on the Northern Duke instead of Arcadia. It would surely complicate things for the South.

Suddenly, a thought struck me, and I shook my head in disbelief.

'No, it can't be a self-staged act by the Duke.'

He definitely vomited blood. There's no Grand Duke who would risk his life for such a deception.

I started walking aimlessly to clear my thoughts. Following a familiar path, I found myself at a familiar place – the entrance to the Rahel Forest, overlooking Medea's room.

Suddenly, someone silently landed beside me. Startled, I looked over to find the boy who always ranks second to me, the Red Caterpillar.

His hair glowed crimson under the moonlight, and even his eyes were a deep red.

"I thought you might be here. Surely you didn't think you could be of any help to the lady, did you?"

He showed me raw hostility.

"What business is it of yours where I am?"

"None, but the teacher has called us together."

He swallowed his bitterness, glancing up at Medea's room, then continued without taking his eyes off it.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking you're a favored confidant just because the lord seems to care for you."

"I have no such delusions."

"Good. Follow me."

I reluctantly followed him, knowing it wasn't wise to reveal my changed stance at such a time.

He led me to the front of the Blue Star Castle. But before I could brace myself, something was already unfolding there.

I stood behind the disguised Black Caterpillar and the trainee assassins. They were all looking towards the entrance of the castle.

Medea?

Medea was there in front of the castle, and beside her, the Yellow Caterpillar, bound and kneeling.

Yellow Caterpillar?

Even from a distance, I could see he was trembling violently, whether from fear or pain.

Medea shouted,

"I have found the poisoner who attempted to assassinate the Northern Duke! Come out and witness our Southern hospitality! Please don't ignore us any longer! We must face each other to resolve this!"

Her voice was desperate.

Then, the Yellow Caterpillar started to scream strangely, "Eeeh—Eeeh—"

"His tongue was cut in half, by the lady's order."

Whispered the Black Caterpillar.

'!'

"Born in the North, he couldn't forget his roots and defended the North. The lady found out. You all must remember this scene in your hearts."

I felt sick to my stomach.

Yellow Caterpillar, you were trembling from pain.

Medea continued,

"This boy, born in the North and wandering as an orphan, was taken in by us. How a stable boy managed to poison the Duke's food is beyond us. When we found him, his tongue was already cut! Could there be any connection between you Northerners and this boy?!"

I felt as if I had been struck on the head.

Medea, what seed of deceit are you planting now?

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This novel has been translated up to chapter 66.

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