episode_0009

In the center of Freichencar’s central garden stands a memorial and statues personally commissioned by King Ivan. The [Departing Hero Statue], the [Goddess of Victory Statue], and the [Unnamed Hero Statue] are among them. After the demon king’s demise and the conclusion of the war, one day, a statue in the central garden of Freichencar vanished. It was the [Unnamed Hero Statue]. It is said that in the place where the statue once stood, a small plaque was found.

– Commemorating them is my right.

– Enrique.

Prince Alexander vehemently protested, calling it an affront to the royal family, but Princess Elizabeth acknowledged Enrique’s claim and relinquished the statue’s recovery. Of course, the truth remains unknown. Overnight, within the capital, there emerged a legend of a daring thief who had stolen a statue from the gardens near the palace, a member of the legendary party that had slain the demon king. There was no need to antagonize them.

Elizabeth had handled the situation well, not defying Enrique while preserving the dignity of the royal family.

“Was this inscription here?”

Ivan gazed at the [Unnamed Hero Statue] from a corner of the underground waterway.

It had taken only three hours to search with the information that Enrique’s “dungeon” was located in the southern Freichencar underground waterway. He briefly paid his respects, removing his hat and placing it over his heart.

Even when he had heard about the erection of this statue, he hadn’t dared to approach it for fear of embarrassment. By the time he coincidentally found the central garden, Enrique had already removed the statue.

As his tribute concluded, a voice mixed with laughter echoed through the waterway.

“Do not mourn those who left first.”

“I stand alongside them as well.”

“You still remember. Good, welcome, ‘little’ Ivan.”

With a creak, the base of the statue twisted, metal grating against metal, and soon the stone wall split, revealing a passage.

Just a moment ago, he had been standing in a foul-smelling, damp underground passage, a far cry from the ornate reception hall corridor.

Walking through the luxurious corridor adorned with silk-covered walls, Ivan slowly collected his thoughts. Like most members of the warrior party, Grandmaster Enrique was insane.

Of course, at that moment, Enrique was also thinking the same thing about Ivan, just like most members of the extermination unit, “Little” Ivan was crazy.

*

“It’s been seven years since we’ve faced each other directly, hasn’t it? Well, have you been well, my disciple?”

“So-so.”

Ivan sat in the reception room, sipping his coffee. The first sip was very small, rolling slowly in his mouth. It was a kind of etiquette, as most etiquette was, a measure of assassination prevention.

No poison. Ivan nodded lightly and savored the coffee.

“Oh, these days, the chemical poisons are undetectable by taste.”

“Mm.”

He spat it back into the cup and placed it on the table.

“Just kidding! Shall I bring you some fresh ones?”

“Forget it. I didn’t come here to get tea.”

“Anyway, you’re so stiff. You young lad.”

Enrique reclined on the lavish sofa, smiling with his eyes. Between the side slit of his silk dress, a glimpse of white leg peeked out. Of course, that wasn’t enough to catch Ivan’s attention. The monster before him was well over a hundred years old.

How many elixirs and blood packs has he consumed?

Ivan couldn’t help but imagine Salmosa glaring at him, tongue flickering. After all, this was the nest of vampires.

Elder Vampire, Shadow Blade, Fangs of Darkness. And the “traitor” Enrique.

A century ago, he betrayed the Elder Vampire who turned him and put an end to the “vampire rampage” that had spread throughout the Freichanka region by sucking blood. Since then, for a century, this woman had taken countless lives under the guise of “assassination requests.” If the Demon King hadn’t intervened, wouldn’t the heroes have dealt with her?

Ivan thought carefully as he gently stroked the axe handle beneath the table with his lowered hand.

“Sure, you came faster than expected. But isn’t that more like you, being active and all? Well… being active is a compliment between us, right? You know what I mean.”

“Where’s Priscilla?”

“Ah, let’s get to the point! You’ve always been like this!”

Enrique chuckled softly and folded his arms.

The dress swayed gently, revealing a seductive figure. (Of course, Ivan remains unfazed by someone 70 years his junior. His range covers about a 10-year difference, give or take.)

“How could I have asked? Or not asked?”

“You wouldn’t have asked.”

“Oh? How can you be so sure?”

“If you had, you wouldn’t be inviting me; you’d be attacking me.”

Ivan said coldly as he glared at her.

“Isn’t revenge the most important principle you taught me?”

“Hmm? That little brat fits within your ‘revenge’ scope, doesn’t she?”

“I took care of it.”

He remembered the day he took in Priscilla. She was an orphan, scorned even among the refugees gathered at the military camp.

Losing parents at a young age is a terrible thing. It means the only one who can protect you is yourself. Realizing this, the child always acted boldly.

There were already too many people in the world feeling down and depressed to help a sad and gloomy child.

To sympathize with someone, you need to have room for yourself. In those days, the United Kingdom didn’t have that kind of room.

So Ivan remembers Priscilla and a few other children. Determined to take them in, he retired and established an orphanage. Those children are no less than his own.

Naturally, if something happens to your children, you must seek revenge.

“Don’t hold too much grudge. It makes you look petty.”

Enrique grinned and set down his teacup.

Not having taken a sip, the still full cup of tea gently rustled on the table.

“Didn’t I teach you? Grudges are for weaklings. Smearing oneself with colorful revenge and self-defense is the antics of the feeble.”

“And your response?”

“She’s still alive. Unharmed. Well-groomed, dressed nicely, and fed well. Now, it’s your turn to respond.”

Enrique slowly placed his pale fingers on the table and spoke, “What are you scheming?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, what are you scheming at your ‘orphanage’ right now?”

Enrique was sincere. He had laughed it off, saying that being an orphan himself made him compassionate when he took in orphans. It was pitiful. Wasn’t she a cute disciple who he had enough intention to take in as family if she came to him?

Two years had passed like that. And the ‘orphanage-born orphan’ who appeared used an astonishingly perfect camouflage technique.

Honestly, it felt like being hit from behind. Well, it’s not something remarkable to complain about the leakage of techniques. It’s not like it’s some kind of one-man victory martial arts move, so he could just teach her.

But, what’s the deal with sending agents to fight business battles in the same area as the master?

She felt wronged. After retiring, he even faked his death and had his identity erased, yet she didn’t even go to see him. Even though she was within arm’s reach, she never went for a drink!

And yet, what?

He wants to do business in our front yard and stage a protest by sending agents?

Isn’t this a declaration of war?

Honestly, even though he politely invited that stubborn little brat without killing her and showed his willingness to say, ‘Let’s not do this, we have a lot of memories together, do we need to fight?’

This rock-like man is saying, ‘If you touch me, I’ll kill you!’

Really hurtful.

And what’s with that beard? He’s really going crazy. Why is he doing something that was popular a century ago now? That’s not a disguise, is it? I didn’t teach him that.

Even when countless grievances flashed through her mind,

Enrique still gazed at Ivan with a ‘nonchalant smile,’ as befitting a legendary vampire who had lived for a century and was a member of the great warrior party.

“What are you scheming? How far should I go?”

Ivan couldn’t find a way to respond.

The reason Elizaveta uses him is because he’s undercover. His past has been thoroughly cleansed, his name is ordinary, so there’s no chance of misunderstanding whenever it’s used, and his appearance has changed a lot (by his standards).

Furthermore, the late “Lieutenant Ivan Petrovich” has already been processed as deceased and interred in the national cemetery. Therefore, according to Elisaveta’s intentions, his identity and mission are classified.

Should I tell Enrique about this? But wait, wasn’t there some kind of connection between Enrique and Elisaveta? After all, Enrique established the extermination unit, and Elisaveta was its commander. Both were suffering from a lack of information, yet they maintained the composure and caution of well-trained operatives, smiling through their headaches.

“What on earth is he thinking, seriously.”

“What on earth is she thinking.”

These were the thoughts running through their minds.

“Is this betrayal? How could she do this to me?”

“Is this betrayal? Did this woman really switch sides from Elisaveta to Alexandr?”

The comrades-in-arms were steadfastly cultivating their camaraderie with one heart and one mind even today.

It was a mid-January winter night.