Chapter 25

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: The Trap is Sprung
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#25

That girl probably knows he's marching on the capital today.

Kill, too, was aware that Raphi scouts had been loitering around his domain several times. That's why he made his movements even more overt, a deliberate provocation.

It didn't matter if she found out his plan beforehand.

She would have predicted, at most, two or three thousand soldiers, and even then, she would assume he'd left some behind to defend his territory.

He had monitored the movements of the capital and Central Command just in case, but until half a day ago, neither had shown any unusual activity.

The girl likely expected to stop him with the soldiers currently in the capital, but that was a fool's hope.

The capital's standing army was woefully inadequate to face the eight thousand soldiers surging toward them like a tidal wave.

“Well then, let's be on our way.”

The dust kicked up by the soldiers ahead mixed with the damp mist, blurring his vision. Kill mounted his horse and followed the legion at the slowest possible pace, cutting through the thick haze.

He was the mind of the operation, not its hands. The fighting was for the soldiers; he would step in at the very last moment.

As they entered the capital, the soldiers' advance faltered. A new report reached Kill, who was observing them from a distance.

“Soldiers from Central Command are blocking the way. It's only a platoon, so we should be able to suppress them quickly. Fortunately, it's dawn, so there are almost no civilians around.”

“Leave the small fry to the rearguard and tell the vanguard to pick up the pace. We must enter the palace as quickly as possible, before the sun rises.”

His quietly spoken command was echoed in the shouts of his soldiers. Once the cries, which had spread like a round song, faded, the army's advance resumed its pace.

The march was smooth.

Before reaching the palace, a larger-than-expected number of troops blocked their path, but they retreated with almost absurd ease. A sense of unease pricked at him, but it wasn't enough to warrant concern, so Kill silently watched his soldiers press forward.

Around the time they breached the palace, an attendant who had gone to assess the situation returned with a grim expression to deliver his report.

“There are more soldiers inside the palace than we expected. It seems the enemy knew we were coming and prepared.”

“Are there enough to hinder our advance? We should still be able to overpower them.”

“It's not an impossible number, but there are many Lycans. It's difficult for ordinary soldiers to face them, as you know. It will take time, but…”

“Delays are unacceptable!”

Kill cut him off sharply, then fell silent, mulling over a solution.

“There's no other way. Burn the Mirage Herbs. They're powerless against the scent. We don't have many Lycans on our side, so don't worry about them. Just burn it.”

The attendant spurred his horse to deliver the order. Shortly after, the rearguard lit jars filled with dried leaves and distributed them throughout the area.

The Lycan soldiers, recognizing what it was, broke away with looks of disgust. Soon, a pungent fragrance began to spread in all directions.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

“Dammit! It's Mirage Herb! Get out of here!”

A hoarse voice, half air and half shout, shook the battlefield.

At Zen's command, the soldiers fighting the enemy began to creep backward. Seeing them hesitate, the enemy's morale surged, and they hurried to pursue our forces.

The troops that had been advancing straight from the main gate toward the outer palace began to disperse, scattering throughout the palace gardens. As the enemy spread out, the pungent scent of the Mirage Herb also widened its reach.

As spacious as the palace was, it couldn't possibly hold all four thousand of the surging soldiers. No matter how well they were lured, two or three thousand would be the maximum.

*We don't need to be greedy. Our objective is simply to lure the enemy.*

The Queen had said there was no need to trap all the enemy soldiers in the palace. She'd said that luring even half of them would make this operation a success, so there was no need to worry.

“Run! Retreat as far back as you can!”

Zen feigned a retreat, creating confusion among the enemy.

The soldiers of the Black Eagle Battalion also pretended to fight fiercely, continuously luring the enemy deeper into the gardens. After engaging them for a while, they broke away at the right moment and ran toward their commander.

The gathered soldiers looked at the advancing enemy with troubled expressions. To an onlooker, they might have looked like lost Lycan pups who'd lost their mother.

Perhaps because he'd promised them a treat, the soldiers were completely immersed in their performance. With faces grim with defeat, they kicked their feet urgently, as if on the verge of death.

“Damn it! Everyone inside! We have to protect Her Majesty!”

Zen, too, let out a suitably impassioned cry and retreated into the palace.

The flood of enemy soldiers chased after our forces, storming into the palace. The soldiers exchanged glances, then scattered into the corridors and hallways to continue luring the enemy.

The unlit corridors were as dark and damp as a snake's throat. Unlike the brightly lit gardens, the pitch-black interior of the palace caused a minor confusion among the enemy ranks.

For the sharp-eyed Lycans, it was no different from daytime, but for the humans, it was a world of pure darkness.

“Ugh, don't step on me!”

“Watch out! Stairs!”

While the enemy stumbled about in confusion, Zen and his soldiers let out simultaneous groans and screams. Startled, the enemy soldiers ran blindly toward the sounds, as if possessed.

Did these idiots even realize they were walking off a cliff?

Zen clicked his tongue and muttered.

“Fools. This is why you need a competent commander in war.”

The Duke's army seemed to have received some rudimentary training; their combat skills weren't bad.

But whether their command was weak or their organization was simply poor, their judgment in a crisis couldn't compare to the Parnas army.

Just like now. The moment they sensed the strange atmosphere inside, they should have halted and regrouped. But because they thought they had the upper hand, they were following blindly.

This was the difference between professional soldiers and a disorderly mob.

“…No. That's not it.”

To be precise, it was the difference between Walter Hyverge's army and that of an old fox.

Zen gave a bitter laugh and tapped his furrowed brow with his fist. The effects of the Mirage Herb were setting in; the strength was draining from his body.

Just a little longer, just a little more.

Reaching the throne room, Zen hurriedly shoved the Lycan soldiers inside and glanced out the window.

The garden, which should have been covered in green, was packed so tightly with enemy soldiers there was no room to stand. Even then, more troops were still forcing their way in through the main gate.

By a rough estimate, there were a thousand—no, more than two thousand.

Including the soldiers who had already stormed the palace, the number was just as they'd predicted. Happily listening to the enemies' shouts echoing from the corridors, Zen dashed into the throne room.

“Your Majesty! They're coming!”

Lucy, who had been pacing before the throne, greeted him with a bright face.

“Well done, Zen. Take the soldiers and wait outside.”

The Lycan soldiers who had rushed into the throne room with Zen quickly hid in the secret passage behind the throne. They, too, seemed to have inhaled a lot of the Mirage Herb, as they dragged their feet, struggling to exit the room.

After shoving the last soldier into the passage, Zen staggered toward Whees, who was standing beside her.

Damned herb. Muttering to himself, he rubbed his blurring eyes. Zen struggled to straighten his back and stood facing Whees.

“Hey, furball. We did our part, now it's your turn.”

“What are you picking a fight for now?”

“I'm not picking a fight, you bastard. If you don't look after Her Majesty properly, I'll deep-fry you whole. I've always been curious what fried Raphi tastes like… I'll be the first to find out!”

Instead of answering, Whees raised a hand and grabbed Zen by the scruff of his neck. Then he threw him toward the secret passage.

A crash—it was unclear if it was the sound of stone or a body breaking—was followed by a low voice.

“Who are you to give me orders, you low-ranking bastard? You're in the way, so get lost.”

Whees strode forward and kicked Zen into the passage.

Zen growled a reply, telling him to get lost himself, but Whees pulled a stone that had been pushed aside and sealed the passage. He locked it and, as if nothing had happened, stood beside Lucy once more.

Lucy, who had been standing beside the throne with her arms crossed, sat down and crossed her legs. She then cast an amused glance their way.

“You two get along so well.”

“……How, in any way, do we look like we get along? Never mind. Please stand up.”

Whees tightly bound Lucy's shoulders with the rope in his hands. He glanced at the rope tied to her legs, then looked up at the ceiling.

Before the dawn, in the darkest, deepest part of the sky, a crescent moon faintly illuminated its surroundings.

The soldiers' shouts grew closer, and the sound of their stamping feet grew louder in unison. Then, the throne room doors shattered, and the enemy soldiers poured in.

“Found her! We've found the fake princess!”

The soldier at the front, swinging his sword, confirmed Lucy's features and let out a stunned cry.

“This way!”

“Move, get out of the way!”

“They said there's a reward for the one who kills her first!”

Lucy gathered the hem of her dress and slowly rose to her feet.

“So Kill called me a fake princess, did he?”

A leisurely smile, unbefitting the urgent situation, spread across her face.

“I wonder who the real fake is.”

Before she could finish, Whees, who had been crouching behind her, spread his wings wide and leaped toward the ceiling.

With a flap, his massive body soared upward, cutting through the air. Connected to him, Lucy's body also rose lightly into the air.