Chapter 102

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 102

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Steal from You

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Samon subtly led Medea deeper into the forest.

"I think I spotted a silver fox. Clever thing—it must be hiding well, steering clear of people for sure."

Medea hurriedly matched the pace of Samon's horse, which had pulled ahead.

"Samon, aren't we going too deep? What if a wild beast shows up?"

Her voice trembled with fear.

"This has been a managed hunting ground for decades, tended by the hunters. You know there aren't any beasts here. Besides, Dea, you can wield a sword. Just swing it."

"I've never caught a beast with a sword before."

Medea whined.

It was the familiar, affectionate demeanor she showed only to him and the Claudio family after so long.

"By the way, Dea, why did you hide that you knew how to use a sword? Our family was shocked."

Samon glanced sideways at her, probing gently.

"They must've been less shocked than I was, not knowing my brother was hurt. Is your leg better now? You should've told me sooner if it hurt that much."

Medea replied softly.

"......"

Samon, who had immediately refused her plea for help during the duel with Jared, found himself caught off guard instead.

He forced a smile.

"And Samon, that wasn't even real fighting. I just remembered the basic forms Peleus taught me. He trained me so rigidly, without any flexibility—you have no idea how tough it was."

Her tone turned curt, as if the memory still irritated her.

'She was that outstanding with just the basics...?'

But Samon soon recalled Peleus.

If it was him—who had gripped his first sword at age five, awakened aura right away, and even personally subdued the king's Royal Guard Agema—it was possible.

Medea was his cherished only sister, after all. He must have taught her enough basics to subdue enemies.

And Medea had devoured it like a fledgling in the nest, going on to crush the Fourth Princess.

"Haha, you two really... have such talent."

Veins bulged on the back of Samon's hand gripping the reins.

He remembered himself—having taken up the sword in the same year as Peleus, at the same age, yet utterly unable to keep up with his blinding pace.

The deep-seated inferiority of a mediocrity he had forgotten reared its head.

'Yes, but your siblings' arrogance ends now.'

Samon whispered sinisterly to himself and unwittingly spurred his horse forward.

"Samon, you're going too fast. I can't keep up. The memory of falling off is so traumatic, I'm barely holding the reins."

"Sorry about that. I got too caught up in the hunt. As an apology, I'll make sure you get the win, no matter what."

His dry eyes scanned her as he soothed Medea with gentle words.

The horse Medea rode was a docile brown pony. Mild-tempered, it obeyed her clumsy commands without complaint.

'And it takes well to anyone else's hands, too.'

Before the hunt began, the princess had secretly brought twelve wolves into the grounds.

Samon had attached a small sachet beneath the pony's saddle.

The faint musk, detectable only by beasts, would lure the wolves.

On his own mount, he had the opposite—a sachet with a scent wolves despised.

'Even if Medea tries something at the last second, it'll be too late. She'll end up wolf chow, her throat torn out.'

Then he could return pretending to be a survivor who barely escaped the wolf pack.

Samon sent a silent, regretful apology inward.

'Sorry, Dea. But you've grown too big. You're constantly threatening our family. I had no choice but to strike first.'

Medea was certainly a valuable card for the Claudios.

'But the situation has changed now.'

With news of Peleus's victory arriving, keeping her alive while accounting for their disadvantage was too risky a move.

So he pressed on swiftly—fast enough that Medea couldn't stop him, but with enough leeway that she wouldn't completely lose track of him.

How far had they gone?

They reached deep into the woods, where nothing but grass appeared no matter how far they traveled.

The trees grew so densely they blocked the sky's light, casting an eerie, shadowed chill.

"I think I saw a fox tail around here..."

Dismounting, Samon bent low, pretending to search for a fox den as he circled a tree trunk.

Inwardly, he timed it. They were in a remote spot with no eyes on them—when would the wolves arrive?

Then Medea's voice rang out.

"Samon, I think I saw it."

"Saw what?"

The fox? Or the wolves?

As Samon turned his head—

Pfuk. A sharp stab of pain, like being pricked by something pointed, and then his vision went black.

Medea snapped the brooch shut again.

The cat-shaped brooch on her right shoulder gleamed.

It was the one Acarus had gifted her before.

'It works just as he said.'

Medea looked down coldly at Samon, collapsed after being hit with the sleep dart.

Leaping nimbly from her horse, she drew the sword from his scabbard.

It was a masterfully crafted blade, far superior to its owner's skill.

Should she just kill him here?

But Medea overcame the fleeting impulse and stuck to her plan.

'You all will desperately search for me.'

Because I'm going to vanish from here. And leave clear proof that you, Samon, tried to assassinate the princess.

She was about to leave the unconscious Samon behind and depart.

Paat—!

Sensing a presence behind her, Medea instinctively spun away and swung her sword.

The dull thud of cleaving flesh transmitted through the blade.

"Kaaak—!"

A beast's guttural scream echoed.

At the same time, the cape draped over Medea's shoulders tore with a rip. A wolf's claw had caught it.

In the spot where she had dodged, the unconscious Samon was drenched in the blood spurting from the wounded wolf.

Even the acrid stench piercing his nose failed to rouse him.

'There are no wolves in this forest... So you prepared them.'

She had anticipated some petty trick during the hunt, but wolves?

Precisely, it seemed a collaboration between the Fourth Princess and Samon.

The princess had procured them, and the Claudios, familiar with the grounds, had released the beasts.

"Hiiing—!"

Then came the mare's agonized neigh.

Medea looked up.

Several wolves were lunging at her horse all at once.

The docile mare was torn apart before it could even scream fully. The wolves' feral eyes turned to Medea.

Even with the sudden beast assault, Medea's face remained expressionless as she whistled sharply.

An unexpected variable. But it didn't matter.

No matter how it unfolded, she would use it as material to complete her plan targeting her uncle's family.

Samon's horse, panicked by the beasts and wandering aimlessly, instinctively charged toward her.

"Hya!"

Medea seized the reins and mounted.

Discarding her earlier act of a novice rider fumbling on the pony, she spurred it forward.

But the wolves pursued relentlessly.

She twisted to fire her crossbow, but they dodged nimbly and kept coming.

'Trained beasts.'

How far did she ride, slashing through whipping branches and leaping thick underbrush?

Suddenly, the horse refused to go further.

Medea yanked the reins hard, scanning ahead. A sheer cliff dropped off—no path forward.

Sensing their prey trapped, the wolves crouched low and closed in, encircling her.

"Grrrrr..."

The savage beasts bared their fangs with ferocious glares.

One lunged first, as if to make an example.

Medea shot her crossbow at it, then swiftly pulled the reins to wheel the horse around.

"Kang—!"

As the pierced wolf tumbled away, the one approaching from below was kicked by the horse's hind legs.

Simultaneously, another aiming for her right side spewed blood from her upward slash.

And the last one—

Kyaaaang—!

Tumbled off the cliff alongside Medea.