Assault (3)

The Fourth Prince, Machart Paris Baltoria.

Among Seraphine’s blood relatives, he was the only one entangled with the demon tribe, making him effectively a spy for the Demon King’s army.

In the original storyline, he wouldn’t have his first battle until around Part 4, which meant he was strong enough to only show his combat prowess in the latter half of the story.

…And though I didn’t want to say this before the fight even started, he wasn’t an opponent a mere maid like Lilith could defeat alone.

It wasn’t just that I couldn’t win at this point in time-Machart was an opponent who required stats on par with the Hero from late Part 4 to be defeated.

For Lilith to reach that level, she’d need to be at the very end of Part 5. In terms of levels, that was around 60-70, meaning my current level was barely a quarter of what was needed.

‘I was so focused on Agnes and Prince Antonio’s affairs that I didn’t even see the hornet’s nest I was poking…’

I had been so distracted by how differently their relationship was unfolding compared to the original story that I failed to prepare for the crisis now looming over me. I had no excuses.

If I had known he’d approach me like this, I would’ve swallowed my pride and asked Ethan to escort me to the Magic Department building for a while-at least until Machart lost interest in me.

His unique ability, “Inner Darkness,” was a mental prison that could only trap one person at a time. It was essentially an assassination-specialized skill.

‘I bet he used this ability to kill Phillipson and the First Imperial Consort too.’

Not only was the ability itself tailored for assassinations, but as someone who could freely roam the Imperial Palace, killing royalty was child’s play for Machart.

If Machart were capricious enough, he might have released me from this space unharmed, but as I said earlier, this was the same bastard involved in the deaths of his stepmother and half-brother. A low-ranking noble girl’s life meant nothing to him-he wouldn’t show mercy.

The only other ways to escape were to cut through or shatter the space itself with master-level swordsmanship or magic. Naturally, I lacked both, meaning self-rescue was impossible.

…If all else fails, I could just kill the caster who deployed this mental magic.

“Hmm, interesting. Most girls who end up here tremble in fear or scream their lungs out.”

“…The fuck do you want, you bastard?”

“You’re different from them. You’re not scared, and you’re not whining loudly either.”

I ran through the simulation of smashing Machart’s grinning head in my mind several times.

Drawing the dagger from my inner pocket and jamming it into his throat would be too telegraphed-he’d easily counter.

Using the dagger hidden under my skirt would be faster, but to kill him with a blade, I’d need speed on par with the Hero or Natalie. Or make him drop his guard enough to expose a vital spot.

Magic wasn’t lethal enough to finish him, and large-scale spells like Mana Blast would obviously be blocked the moment I tried casting them.

On top of that, the remaining skill points I had weren’t enough to acquire any game-changing skills.

As I stood there, unable to hide my tension while glaring at him, Machart’s grinning eyes quietly locked onto mine. The unsettling gaze sent a shiver down my spine, and a curse slipped out reflexively.

“The fuck are you staring at, you bastard?”

“I thought so before, but you really aren’t the most polite girl, are you? Didn’t your etiquette teacher teach you anything?”

“And your mom was a dumb bitch with an empty skull, so she raised you to rip through women like gift wrapping paper?”

“*Snort*… *Chuckle*…”

“The hell are you laughing at, you ugly fuck?”

“Pfft-ahahahaha! That’s it! This kind of reaction is refreshing. I love it, ahahaha…!”

…Look at this loser pretending to be cool while laughing like an idiot.

Well, I guess being called ugly is funny from his perspective. After all, the reason he was involved in killing the First Imperial Consort and the Crown Prince was to hide his hideous true face.

I knew what his original, ugly face looked like, so I also knew why this bastard was so full of himself.

He had always had low self-esteem about his looks, so after learning a “magic to become handsome” overnight, he started using it however he pleased. To be precise, it wasn’t a beauty spell but more like a wide-area perception-hindering magic that made his face appear handsome.

My insult about his ugly face must have struck a nerve because he leaned in closer.

“Say it again. What about my face…?”

“Fuck! Get your disgusting face out of my sight!”

“……”

“Did your mom even drink seaweed soup after birthing trash like you? Guess the Third Imperial Consort had an iron stomach.”

“…I don’t know what seaweed soup is, but I can tell you’re insulting me and my mother.”

“Even a goblin-brain could figure that out. Or is your mom a goblin, so you have to brag about having that level of intelligence? Pathetic.”

“……”

I deliberately kept needling his appearance, and Machart’s gaze grew increasingly hostile.

Even I could tell the situation wasn’t looking good.

“At least it doesn’t seem like you were cursing just to get my attention. I thought you might be a girl trying a new approach to win me over.”

“Bullshit. Keep your axe-brained thoughts to yourself.”

“If you were just some girl trying to grab my attention with vulgar insults, I would’ve ended things here… but I’ve changed my mind.”

“What does your change of heart have to do with me…?”

-CRACK!

“…Become my woman.”

“You fucking-!”

A faint light illuminated Machart’s surroundings, and from the darkness beyond, black hands shot out-one seizing my wrist while two others pinned my legs to the ground.

Now completely immobilized, I could only watch as Machart leaned in again.

“Let go, you bastard!”

“Thinking about it, I might have given you the wrong impression.”

“…What?”

“Let me rephrase. Become my wife.”

“……”

“Not an opportunity that comes easily, you know? You think just anyone gets to be a princess? Especially the wife of the peerlessly handsome Prince Machart-the competition is fierce.”

“…Bullshit.”

“But I like you, so I’ll make an exception. You’ll be my first wife. Whether there’ll be a second or not is up in the air, but either way, it’s not a bad deal for you…”

-SLASH, THUD!

“Go fuck yourself, you bastard.”

Who the hell proposes to a taken woman like this?

Well, technically, I’m not really “taken,” but even if the entire human race went extinct, I’d still refuse this bastard.

Just the thought of marrying a man makes me sick, let alone this demon-affiliated piece of trash.

If I got tied to him and ended up sharing his doom, I’d be so pissed I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

-Drip.

“Ha! Haha! Ahahahaha!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Even as my spit dripped down between his eyebrows, Machart laughed like a complete lunatic.

With both legs and my right arm restrained, I discreetly gripped a dagger hidden under my skirt with my free left hand.

“It’s not such a bad deal. Just promise to marry me-show me proof-and I’ll let you go, pretending your rudeness never happened.”

“…You’re the one being rude, you bastard.”

“You can’t escape on your own anyway. I checked-you’re not even Expert-level, let alone Master-level.”

“……”

“Just one promise. Swear you’ll marry me and be my first wife-and seal it with a kiss. Simple, right?”

“…Is it trendy in the Imperial Palace to eat through your ass now? Sounds like you’re shitting nonsense from your mouth.”

“…Well, I don’t mind shy girls either.”

“Fuck! Get that face out of my sight! GODDAMMIT!!”

With that, Machart silently leaned in to kiss me, my legs and one arm still bound.

I watched his nauseating face draw closer, forcing myself to endure until the last possible moment.

…All while hurling every curse I knew, making sure he’d think of me as nothing more than a helpless maid until the very end.

The moment his lips were almost upon mine, I swung the silver dagger in my left hand toward the back of his neck without hesitation-and felt the blade sink into something.

The sensation of the blade slicing through skin and muscle.

-THUNK!

…The only regret? The blade didn’t land on his neck.

-Drip, drip…

“Haha, well now…”

“You bastard…”

“…Not just shy, but dangerous and wild too.”

At the last second, Machart blocked the dagger’s path with his right forearm, so instead of his neck, my blade only left a deep gash on his arm.

“I suspected you wouldn’t hold back, but I didn’t think you’d still try to swing a blade in this situation.”

“You insane, fucking bastard…”

“They say the prettiest mushrooms are the most poisonous. Good thing I was careful before taking a bite.”

It wasn’t a joke-I had fully intended to kill him.

If I didn’t kill him, I couldn’t escape this space on my own. If that was the case, I’d rather take him down with me.

Plus, killing him here would make the main storyline easier to handle later, and with their spy gone, the demon tribe’s plans would be disrupted.

Of course, I’d be executed for the crime of assassinating royalty, but if I was going to die anyway, I might as well drag this bastard down with me.

Just as my desperate attempt was thwarted, and frustration welled up inside me, the darkness surrounding us began to fade, and the academy’s scenery returned to view.

“Too bad, but we’ll have to stop here. I wanted to play longer, but I’m losing too much blood.”

“…What?”

“See you next time, shy poisonous mushroom girl.”

-CLATTER!

“……”

After casually pulling the silver dagger from his forearm and tossing it aside, Machart walked off toward the church as if nothing had happened.

Exhausted, I could only collapse onto the ground, unable to chase after his shameless retreating figure.

-THUD.

“Ha, haha, ha…”

…Guess I’ll have to stick close to Ethan or Agnes for a while.