Chapter 168: The Victor’s Return 1

“Haaah…”

Queen Andreas – formerly Freddie Mars – heaved a heavy sigh. She had been feeling as though sitting on a bed of nails lately.

Though her daily life remained largely unchanged – still devoted to magical studies under her master’s tutelage – an oppressive burden weighed heavily upon her mind.

‘Santana… And Caseross… Why did those two have to go that far…?’

The shocking scene from their wedding day lingered, unforgotten.

That the lowly Caseross she had so disdained was actually a noble Dragonian princess of far loftier birth than herself had proven a devastating revelation.

Worse still, this very woman had married Santana – her ostensible rival whom she had long regarded as inferior.

Such a turn of events could only plunge even Queen into profound despair, for she had been utterly defeated.

By the baseborn wench she had looked down upon, and her own younger brother Santana.

More alarmingly, in this new reality, the slightest interest from that duo could instantly upend her entire existence.

‘I have barely mastered the minimal disguise arts required… Yet the unease persists regardless.’

Ever since then, Queen had adopted the habit of wearing a mask – an unremarkable practice among witches concealing their identities, yet one that made her feel like a criminal harboring guilt.

‘Is this truly acceptable for me? If anything else unforeseen occurs between them… No, no, Santana will soon return to Bohemia, so I need not fret so deeply over this… Surely…’

Struggling to reassure herself while inwardly burdened by this smothering sense of dread, Queen’s days passed in stifling anguish.

Until one fateful moment when her worst fears manifested.

As Caseross and I prepared for our return to Bohemia, the now-inseparable couple found themselves occupied with an unexpectedly sizeable array of luggage.

“We seem to have gathered all the necessary items – tableware, furnishings, even the documents required for official duties.”

“There is more baggage than I had anticipated. Truthfully, I did not expect such a considerable accumulation.”

Having arrived empty-handed, I had envisioned a light, unfettered departure with only Caseross at my side.

My initial vision had been akin to our past as holy knights – the two of us, souls entwined in modest bliss as we journeyed homeward, unencumbered by material trappings.

Yet the scene before me starkly contrasted those expectations.

‘From the dowry to the treasures designated as bridal gifts, this overtly proclaims Caseross’s arrival as an imperial princess…’

Admittedly, unlike the past, Caseross’s undisputed status as a princess warranted such stately grandeur befitting the Dragonian Empire’s prestige – an understandable accommodation.

Acknowledging this newfound reality, I met Caseross’s gaze – the sole constant whether knight or princess – with a faint smile.

‘Still, such superficial details matter little. Princess or knight, the essence remains: Caseross is my wife. That alone is what truly matters.’

As I resumed packing amidst these reflections, a salient realization crossed my mind.

‘Come to think of it, I should make that request I had considered regarding an escort detail – at least nominally.’

Throughout this journey, Caseross had been guarded by the purported 10th-rank witch Blad.

However, with Blad assigned elsewhere, she could no longer accompany us.

Unlike before, as Caseross prepared to depart for Bohemia, even the mighty Dragonian Empire could not readily spare a 10th-rank asset, mitigating their military strength.

With this in mind, I contemplated requisitioning a certain individual I had my sights on under the pretext of an escort detail.

‘She is purportedly on the cusp of achieving 8th-rank archmage status, is she not? That should suffice.’

“W-What…? What did you just say?”

Queen’s strained voice betrayed her profound bewilderment. Observing her stunned reaction, her master Soule beamed with evident delight.

“Huhu! Precisely what I said – wonderful news, indeed. You recall Santana and Princess Caseross from before? They have requested you accompany them on this forthcoming journey.”

To Queen, already unnerved, this revelation landed like a bombshell.

Mustering her utmost composure, she addressed her master:

“B-But… I… I cannot! There is still so much I must learn from you, Master! A-And how could someone as lowly as I possibly attend such esteemed individuals?”

“Lowly? Now, now, have I not told you before? In the Dragonian Empire, ability and character are paramount – birth and lineage are mere trifles.”

“A-Ah… Y-Yes… Forgive me.”

Reflexively denigrating herself in a manner even she found pathetic, Queen’s words drew Soule’s objective rebuke.

Yet it only compounded the tightness gripping her chest.

Having long taken pride in her noble heritage while looking down on commoners, Queen found the act of disparaging her own noble birth excruciatingly bitter.

However, Soule’s subsequent words forced her to confront this dissonance.

“Moreover, I have already imparted to you the fundamental lessons within my capability as your master. From here, your growth depends solely on how well you hone and apply these teachings yourself.”

“B-But Master…”

“Witches inevitably reach a point where they must venture forth, refining their abilities through real-world experience. You cannot remain my student indefinitely. Especially one as talented as you – you will surely thrive once independent.”

“Uu…”

Her master’s sincere praise and encouragement left Queen at a loss for words. Seizing the opportunity, Soule delivered the decisive blow:

“From a wider perspective, this could be considered part of your training. I have heard rumors of an imminent great war in Bohemia – go there and unleash your full potential. The magic we wield is meant to be a force of war, after all.”

“…”

“Your answer?”

“Y…Yes… I understand…”

Overwhelmed by her master’s relentless persuasion, Queen could muster no further protest as she reluctantly acquiesced.

A sense of dazed despair washed over her as she fell prey to these inescapable circumstances.

‘What do I do now…? What can I possibly do…?’