Chapter 26

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 11-2

Chapter Title: The 8th Har's Betrayal

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Even as the 8th Har appeared and Chahu and Rasheen let their guards down, Leona never once dropped her vigilance.

Leona had no idea the sudden intruder was the "8th Har."

She had simply been keeping an eye on the 13th Har. When she saw Chahu and he slip away from the battle and head elsewhere, she had started toward them.

Rushing to inform Chahu of the truth behind the incident, Leona had witnessed the 13th Har in mortal danger and leaped in reflexively.

In the end, Yarin's blade carved a long gash across Leona's chest instead of its intended target.

"Leona!"

Chahu cried out in horror, and several men on the battlefield faltered at the sound.

Yarin swallowed his disappointment and lunged again.

But a horse burst from nowhere and charged him, forcing him to dodge and miss his chance.

As Yarin fell back, Nacha rushed straight to Leona.

While Chahu pulled Leona into his arms to check her wound, Nacha licked her cheek and let out a low, mournful whinny.

Rasheen leveled his sword at Yarin.

[8th brother, what the hell is this?!]

Yarin snorted derisively and blew a long whistle.

His subordinates, who had been battling the assassins moments before, abruptly disengaged and assembled behind him.

[Kill that bastard!]

At Yarin's order, his men attacked Rasheen en masse.

Chahu laid Leona on the ground, gripped his sword, and charged to fend off the foes.

Assessing the chaos, Jahankun weaved through the assassins like an eel to support Chahu.

Leona gasped for breath as she clutched at her torn chest.

Sensing a gaze, she looked up to find the Crown Prince standing over her head, staring down intently.

His eyes were as cold as ice.

Leona managed a faint smile and slipped her hand inside her chest.

She drew out a golden command token hidden in her clothes.

"This is why... I survived..."

The Crown Prince glanced at the token before fixing Leona with a piercing stare once more.

Leona summoned her strength and propped herself up.

Nacha whinnied anxiously at her side.

Reassuring Nacha, Leona traced the path of the blade.

"It just grazed my shoulder... No other serious damage."

"........."

The Crown Prince offered no response, remaining utterly silent.

Leona scanned the battlefield and bit her lip.

The enemies outnumbered them badly; the 13th Har's life hung like a candle flame in the wind.

She couldn't leave the Crown Prince here for long.

Once they finished off the 13th Har, they might turn their blades on him next.

Leona dropped to her knees before the Crown Prince and held the command token aloft in both hands.

"Your Highness, I know the gravity of my crimes. I stole Your Highness's command token and forged your orders to act without permission. I dare not beg mercy. But... Your Highness, question me later. For now, please escape this place yourself."

The Crown Prince said nothing.

Chahu's grunts of fierce combat echoed nearby, but Leona kept her head steady, gazing resolutely up at him.

Kamin stared down at Leona in silence before snatching the token and hurling it to the dirt.

Leona startled and reached for it, but the Crown Prince seized her shoulder and pressed her down.

"Ugh..."

Leona let out a pained groan.

The Crown Prince bent low to inspect her shoulder.

His fingers parted the shredded cloth to gauge the wound's depth. Leona flinched in alarm.

His face rigid, the Crown Prince tore a long strip from his cloak and bound her injury tightly.

"Your Highness..."

Leona's gut twisted as she watched the 13th Har's side falter.

She knew his skills were exceptional, but she couldn't bear even a moment's risk to him.

"Enemies everywhere. Your Highness, mount Nacha and flee. Hurry."

Finishing the bandage, the Crown Prince met her eyes.

"You owe me an explanation."

Leona swallowed hard under his icy gaze.

"Stay put and figure out how you'll justify this to me."

With that, he rose and turned away.

Leona caught his intent and clutched his trouser hem desperately.

"Your Highness, you can't!"

The Crown Prince shook her off and strode into the fray.

Leona scrambled to rise and stop him.

But Nacha blocked her path.

"Nacha..."

Nacha shook its head firmly.

Shouts of shock erupted from the melee, and the clash of steel fell abruptly silent.

Leona whipped her gaze over. Five headless corpses toppled to the ground at once.

Severed heads tumbled across the dirt, coming to rest at the enemies' feet.

The Crown Prince swept his impassive gaze around.

"Scram if you want to live."

Rasheen, Chahu, Taram, and Jahankun fell back immediately.

Rasheen's guards followed suit.

Stan, oppressed by the sheer presence without understanding why, edged away stealthily.

The Crown Prince kicked off the earth.

With each sword swing, heads from the assassins and Yarin's men rained down.

The foes resisted with all they had.

But they were no match.

The disparity in skill was overwhelming.

Kamin's thrusts skewered two at a time like kabobs; his downward slashes bisected three in a stroke.

As the corpses mounted, terror froze the survivors' faces.

Stan, beholding the Crown Prince's monstrous might for the first time, gaped in disbelief.

Yarin watched his men butchered mercilessly, fear seizing him.

Yarin scanned frantically for escape.

As he resolved to mount up and bolt, one subordinate leaped onto a horse and fled the carnage.

Yarin opened his mouth to curse him—a stone whistled through the air and pulverized the man's skull.

The subordinate tumbled from the saddle, brains spilling, without getting far.

The culprit was none other than the Crown Prince.

Yarin gulped dryly and sought another out.

Scarce allies remained.

Dally, and he'd be next.

Yarin whipped his head side to side.

Then his eyes snagged on an imperial girl.

Yarin summoned his horse and ordered it to drive off the one beside her.

As his mount barreled into Nacha, Yarin seized the girl and pressed his blade to her throat.

Nacha unleashed a long, piercing cry.

Kamin sensed the shift, halted dead, and flashed furious eyes at Yarin.

Sensing the thick killing intent, Yarin yanked the girl closer.

[S-stay back! Or the kid dies!]

Chahu jabbed a finger at Yarin and bellowed.

[You filthy coward! Let her go!]

[Do as I say, and she lives!]

All eyes locked on the Crown Prince.

He commanded the scene.

Kamin glared at Yarin with bone-chilling frost.

The eerie vibe made Yarin clamp the hilt tighter.

[You! Drop the sword. Now.]

Kamin tossed his blade to the dirt without pause.

Yarin exhaled inwardly in relief. He'd feared the Crown Prince might value the hostage's life at naught.

[Good! You two, bind him!]

The assassins lay slaughtered; only two of Yarin's men survived.

They crept toward Kamin warily.

Kamin, who'd eyed only Yarin, suddenly darkened.

Then agony ripped through Yarin's gut like a hook.

[Gah!]

Yarin convulsed in torment.

The imperial girl in his grasp shoved his arm violently and broke free.

Yarin thrust his sword-arm after her.

But before contact, a blade streaked from nowhere and lopped off his arm clean.

Yarin screamed, staring from severed limb to the dagger buried in his belly.

Eyes brimming questions, he looked ahead.

His last two men lay bisected; the hostage—his lifeline—nestled in Kamin's arms.

Yarin thrust his stump arm at Rasheen, pleading for mercy.

Pity flickered in Rasheen's eyes for an instant.

As Rasheen parted lips, Kamin struck first.

Kamin toed the sword rolling at his feet.

It arced like an arrow, shearing Yarin's head in one clean stroke.

Yarin's head thumped down; his body crumpled slowly.

As eyes strayed to Yarin's demise, Kamin eased the girl from his chest and minutely checked her throat.

Thankfully, just an impression from the blade—no cut.

Kamin heaved a deep sigh and rounded on Leona.

"What the hell was that?! Did I teach you to pull stunts like that?!"

"Sorry... ...."

Mid-reprimand, Kamin sensed wrongness.

Leona's complexion was ashen; her eyes lost focus.

"You—what's wrong?"

"I... Your... Highness's secret pact... to uphold..."

Leona spewed black blood unfinished and blacked out.

Kamin caught her slumping form.

"Leona! Leona!"

He laid her flat and shook her shoulders fiercely.

She stirred not.

Others converged on Kamin.

Spotting Leona out cold, Chahu seized Kamin's hands.

[Shaking her like that won't help! Calm down!]

Chahu shoved Kamin aside and checked her breath.

He spied black blood crusted at her lips.

Face draining, Chahu bolted to Yarin's corpse.

Kamin's dread spiked at Chahu's frantic search. He bellowed.

[Why's Leona like this?!]

Chahu hadn't leisure to reply.

Stan alternated worried glances between Leona and the Crown Prince.

"Your Highness, what happened? Why is she..."

Jahankun cut Stan short, addressing Kamin.

"Poison."

"Poison?"

Kamin's features hardened.

Jahankun probed the pulse beneath Leona's jaw.

"Unknown type, but lethal. Blood's turned—it's invaded her vitals."

Stan first startled at Jahankun's speech, then the revelation.

"Lady Leona poisoned? By who? When?!"

A blizzard of killing intent surged from Kamin.

All present recoiled at the skin-pricking menace.

Chahu brandished a small vial triumphantly.

[Got it!]

He dashed back, proffering it to Jahankun.

[This the poison? Recognize it?]

Jahankun sniffed the contents cautiously.

All stared tensely.

Jahankun cocked his head, tore cloth, dripped poison onto it.

He eyed the soaked colorless fluid, then gravely shook no.

He queried Chahu.

[Anything else?]

[Nothing. That was all on him.]

Chahu spat bitterly.

Kamin yanked Rasheen's collar.

[That scum your brother? You answer for it—antidote, now. Or your tribe pays too.]

As Kamin throttled and roared, Chahu and Taram charged.

Kamin booted them flying.

Chahu rolled, sprang up swift.

[Stop! Beating Rasheen won't conjure antidote!]

[That all he carried?]

Chahu recalled something at Kamin's prompt, raced to Yarin's horse.

The mount lay mangled from Nacha.

Chahu rifled the saddlebags.

Sundries tumbled out—no antidote.

Chahu sagged.

[None here...]

Kamin squeezed eyes shut.

Fleeting hope crushed.

Despair yawned like sinking earth.

Kamin loosed Rasheen, turned to Leona.

She sprawled deathstill; Nacha wailed plaintively beside.

Kamin trudged heavily to her.

He sat, drew her tenderly close.

Finger to nostril, felt her breath—thread-fine, faltering.

Odd.

The thought of it ceasing scorched throat and chest.

Kamin stifled a groan, clutched her deep.

Stan piped up.

"Your Highness, why idle? Rush her to the fortress perfumer!"

"Perfumer...?"

Kamin muttered dazed.

"Forgot? He cured the traveler's poison. He'll manage hers."

Kamin scooped Leona and bolted upright.

His lifeless eyes reignited.

"Right—he's the one!"

As Kamin lunged for the border fortress, Jahankun barred.

"Faster than you. Hand her over."

Kamin clutched tight, hesitated.

Jahankun proffered hands mute; Kamin yielded reluctantly.

As Jahankun cradled Leona, wind and dust vortexed round.

Kamin doffed cloak, draped her.

"Know perfumer's quarters?"

"Yes."

"Max speed."

"Yes."

Chahu, gleaning hope from talk, urged Jahankun.

[Leona's in your hands. News when she's cured—please.]

Jahankun nodded amiably.

Air churning round him swelled to whirlwind, engulfing.

Gale scattered skyward.

Dust cleared; they vanished.

Stan gawked, rubbed eyes.

Nacha mouthed Kamin's garb, tugging.

Chase.

Kamin caressed Nacha's muzzle.

"Go ahead. Catch you soon."

Nacha galloped fortress-bound sans demur.

Kamin tracked it, pivoted to Stan.

Stan quailed at glacial stare, dropped knee hasty.

"Your Highness."

Kamin brooded o'er Stan's crown.

What now... kill?

Stan witnessed excess tonight.

Silence him best here, now.

Yet... Stan furnished Leona's salvation lead.

Hesitation gripped Kamin.

"Hmph..."

Stan jolted at murmur.

Aware-like, Stan petrified.

Kamin spared him, strode elsewhere.

Stan exhaled faint.

Forehead slick sweat meantime.

Kamin retrieved fallen token.

Pocketing, brushed secret pact within.

Finger grazed paper; thoughts swirled.

Doubts crowded skull swift.

Kamin shook clear.

Irrelevant now. Leona's safety alone mattered.

Kamin wheeled fortressward.

Rasheen twigged departure, spoke fleet.

[Crown Prince, pact holds? This unrelated.]

Kamin nodded back-turned, mute.

Trudged fortress-wards.

Stan yelped.

"Your Highness, my horse! Walking too far..."

Kamin vaulted airborne, streaking distant.

Stan gawked as speck winked gone.

Crown Prince departed, Rasheen sighed, surveyed.

Carnage horrific.

Heart more ravaged.

Rasheen stared numb at fratricide's husk.

Betrayal, grudge, pity, grief churned innards.

Rasheen rallied, neared Chahu.

Chahu statue-still, fixated on Crown Prince's vector.

[Chahu...]

Rasheen grasped fret.

Grasped hand, soothed.

[Maid'll pull through.]

Chahu wry grin, nodded.

[Yeah. Tougher'n she looks—fine for sure.]

[Cleanup next. 8th brother's death too...]

[Ah...!]

Chahu gasped abrupt.

[What?]

[She knew! Warned me for that!]

[Huh?]

Chahu muted, eyed Yarin's remains.

Phil Mago slumbered deep on his bed.

Sudden—window slammed wide; frigid gust crashed room-wave.

Phil woke chilled.

Slitted eyes spied black silhouette bedside—jolted upright.

"Who?!"

Stranger plunked something atop bed wordless.

Phil vaulted off, lit chamber.

Lamp glow unveiled stranger.

"Who're you? Why my room..."

Wary wall-ward, glimpsed bed's burden—eyes bulged.

"Lady Leona?!"

Phil hasted bedside, probed.

Pallor screamed peril.

Yelled her name loud—no stir.

"What happened? Who are you? How'd she get like this?!"

Jahankun proffered vial tacit.

Phil snatched wary, sniffed—recoiled.

"Poison?! Why me?!"

Jahankun stripped cloak shrouding Leona.

Phil spotted shoulder gash.

Rifled bag swift.

Drew scalpel-fine knife, snipped shoulder swathe.

Cloth aside: slash bared. Bleed stanched; surrounds bruised black.

Phil queried Jahankun.

"Leona hit with this poison?"

Jahankun nodded.

Phil grave-checked wound, clutched vial desk-bound.

Desk heaped gear, scents.

Culled vials rainbow.

Dripped toxin cloth-clean, inhaled deliberate.

Scent fled fleet.

Sliced cloth, parceled vials-void, dosed selects.

Jahankun observed—rushed Leona convulsing, black-vomit gush.

Phil accelerated.

Reagent-tested toxin, unearthed incense powders all.

"No common brew you fetched. Guess: dual-toxin meld. One Katago turf grass sure... other hazy..."

Mortared powders, fronds dry.

"Uncertain, but desert 'venom scorpion' vibes. Fortunate—neutralizer incense handy. Catch..."

Phil eyed Jahankun post-heave.

"That incense toxic too. Rash dose deadly. Wrong call, Leona..."

Phil halted, eyed Leona.

Deathshade cloaked visage.

"Perilous dearth alternatives. Delay antidote fatal."

Blent reagents water-dilute: brown potion brewed.

Bowled draught, bid.

"Prop Leona up."

Jahankun hoisted torso.

Phil uncorked ampule nose-close: acrid tang bloomed sharp.

"Forces awareness. Medicine time."

Leona reacted, self-stabilized head, moaned anguish.

Phil whisked vial, clarified.

"Pain revives with sense. Mild whiff—no full rouse."

Spoonfed antidote steady.

Leona gulped semiconscious.

Drained, reclined.

Sank slumber swift.

Phil, Jahankun bedside vigil tense.

Static initial; time ticked—breath evened, pallor pinked.

Mend glimpsed; tension eased, relief sighed.

Boom—door splintered; Kamin irrupted.

Beelined bed, assessed Leona.

Color mended spied; palmed brow-sweat.

"Out of danger now?"

Phil bowled by princely thunderbolt, flustered obeisance.

Kamin flicked dismissal—answer prompt.

Phil twigged query target, replied fleet.

"Yes, Your Highness. Crisis crested. Days' repose, unscathed. My take—summon physician verify."

Kamin nodded, tender-lifted Leona to Jahankun.

"Jahankun, her to your quarters. Eyes off."

Phil late-dawned stranger ID.

"Crown Prince Guest..."

"Phil Mago."

Phil palms prayer-clasped.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Contingency: tail Jahankun, tend till lucid."

"Yes. Utmost."

Kamin shouldered Phil.

"Well done. Merit marked."

Brief, heartfelt.

Phil profound bow.

"Overhonored, Your Highness."

"But Leona's wound today: sealed lips."

"Graven, Your Highness."

Kamin clapped shoulder, nodded Jahankun depart.

Jahankun ferried Leona, Phil outbound.

Kamin solo-room-bound, hallwayed Casey.

"Your Highness!"

Casey orbs saucered, frisked Kamin top-bottom.

"Truly you. Sub-report dubious..."

Kamin brushed past tacit.

Casey tailed buoyant.

"How out? Guards manned. Window leap? Fortress hides passage?"

Kamin halted sharp.

Casey clamped jaw.

"Casey."

"Y-yes... Your Highness."

"Guards blanketed fortress—midnight ruckus why?"

Kamin grated vexed.

Guard delay irked recall.

Wall-scaled inbound: buildings guard-ringed.

Aimed wall-vault window-infil; eyes omnipresent—main ingress forced.

Casey mood-read, cringed ginger.

"Maid Chief vanished queerly..."

"........."

"Fear not, Your Highness. Troops ironclad; incident nil. Fortress-lost sure. Subs hunt fervent—soon snared."

"Spare."

"Pardon?"

"Leona's spot known."

"Splendid. Whereabouts?"

"Butt out."

"Eh?"

Kamin voice-dropped hush-harsh.

"Deaf? Hands off."

"Aye, Your Highness."

"Halt hunt; summon Barts my room."

"Heard!"

Casey scampered.

Kamin resumed.

Door-met: guards relief-joy faces hailed.

"Your Highness, returned!"

"Mm."

Entered sans word, strode assured.

Straight bed.

Bedside: gem-chest docs war-locked.

Token, pact bosom-dug.

Pact-glimpsed, chest-tossed tandem.

Barts anon-arrived.

Kamin briefed Leona's hurt.

Barts aghast perceptive—details dodged.

"Leona with Jahankun now. Stealth-physician her-exam."

"Stealth... yes?"

"Aye. Injury classified. Leak-proof you."

"Got it. More?"

"Dismissed."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Barts dispatched, Kamin window-posted.

Night loomed endless.

Later deep, Nacha gated fortress-in.

Scent-trail Leona, building-stormed.

Jahankun sensed, out-soothed.

Secluded ducted Nacha room-led.

But crammed: Phil, doc, Barts—no berth.

Nacha evicted natural, bedflank commandeered Leona-side.

Barts temp-quarters same-floor Jahankun-trio.

Time-lapsed, Stan fortress-returned.

Phil-room prime—no Leona, door-rubble ogled.

Leona-room tempted—next Crown Prince's—wavered.

Crown superforce, Jahankun enigma, Leona audacity, Prince stealth-prowl, Katago clash, imperial-masked unknowns...

Suspicion swamped.

Stan sight-sieved night's riddle futile.

Confusion circled aimless.

Curbed curiosity cracked—Prince-room coursed.

Casey door-ward timely.

Casey midnight-Stan quizzed.

"Hour odd—what?"

Stan Leona-door darted.

"Maid Chief safe?"

"Huh?"

Casey blanked; Stan flummoxed.

Open faltered—Prince-door yawned; Barts emerged.

Barts neared, murmured low.

"His Highness calls."

Stan gulped arid, Prince-chamber crossed.