Chapter 91
When Lysiancius, uncharacteristically, started digging into the ground, I decided to joke around and play it off like it was nothing.
If he’d reacted with something like, “We’re not that close, are we?” I probably would’ve felt pretty awkward—but thankfully, maybe out of guilt or awkwardness, he went along with it.
From the start, we lacked information, and now an unknown enemy had appeared.
I was the one who came up with the plan, and I was the one who decided to take the risk.
I didn’t want someone else feeling regret over it.
Anyway, after Lysiancius finally gave in to my slightly unreasonable insistence, we ate the fancy desserts he’d brought and he told me in detail what had happened after I nearly died.
The building where the auction was held had completely collapsed.
The peaceful night market nearby was in ruins.
Guests barely managed to escape and scattered in all directions.
Many were injured or killed.
The mere fact that monsters appeared near the auction building threw everyone into a panic.
Raymon had deployed troops before the building was fully destroyed to search for traces and pursue the enemy, but they couldn’t find any significant evidence related to the mysterious girl who attacked us or the monster pack.
Flux barely escaped the building, hurriedly called the guards, and tried to restore order amid the chaos—but it wasn’t easy.
The southern region had been peaceful for so long.
Everyone knew that, gradually, the number and strength of monsters crossing the barrier and entering human territory were increasing.
But until now, people could live comfortably ignoring it.
Especially in a rich, populous city like this one, even if monsters appeared, it wasn’t a serious concern.
With high population density and troops stationed year-round, any monster attack could be handled without major casualties.
It was the rural territories with small populations that truly worried about monsters.
Those places already struggled with wild beasts attacking during lean seasons; they didn’t have the means to deal with magical creatures on top of that.
That’s why there was even a saying:
“Only northerners or country folk worry about monsters.”
Besides, wasn’t there even a temple guarding the southern barrier?
Even Flux, though aware of potential threats and conspiracies, hadn’t worried about a monster invasion.
And it wasn’t entirely his fault—how can you prepare for a disaster no one has ever experienced before?
Centuries had passed since the time of the first emperor.
The only ones who still took those ancient warnings seriously were the Ducal House of Castrain.
No matter how wealthy the Cortez family was, they hadn’t prepared an emergency manual or stationed troops for a monster invasion in their peaceful southern metropolis.
The result?
Massive casualties.
Flux, who had been frantic with worry watching me bleed out before his eyes, was apparently in such disarray that he couldn’t even show his face after hearing I’d survived.
Citizens were terrified.
When people first heard that the temple had caught fire and something had gone wrong with the holy relic, they thought it was just a bad omen—nothing more.
The offering festival hadn’t even been canceled, just postponed.
So what? Festivals got delayed all the time.
For the locals, the offering festival had long since stopped being a solemn duty—it had become more of a summer celebration.
Even when rumors spread that the princess’s holy sword had been stolen, most people just scoffed:
“Who’s the lunatic with guts big enough to pull something like that?”
Gossip spread quickly in such a rich city.
Everyone already knew, at least vaguely, that shady deals took place behind the scenes.
So they figured some powerful figure must have secretly stolen the sword—and the fire at the temple was probably just a coincidence.
But then, suddenly—monsters attacked the city.
The assault targeted a single building, and after a brief rampage, the monsters withdrew like a receding tide.
Even though casualties were relatively low for such a large-scale attack, the citizens were traumatized.
“Monsters?!
The kind that only show up in the far north—why here?
This has never happened before!
But there’s a barrier! How could so many monsters break through it?
Oh, heavens above, save us…!”
Panic, anger, and fear spread through the city.
People needed something—anything—that made sense to them.
Why had this happened? Why now?
But even the Cortez family couldn’t provide a convincing explanation.
The Castrain forces were monitoring the situation closely and announced that another monster attack was unlikely—but it wasn’t enough to calm anyone.
The rich rushed to buy enchanted items made with mana stones for protection, regardless of the cost.
Lines formed at warp tunnels, even with sky-high usage fees.
But the majority—the commoners—couldn’t afford that.
They didn’t have the means to flee far away or to buy protective magic stones.
All they could do was huddle together and talk.
“Come to think of it, didn’t the temple catch fire? The festival was delayed!”
“And I heard something went wrong with the holy relic!”
“Right! That must’ve weakened the barrier, and that’s why the monsters attacked! If we hold the offering festival properly, it’ll be fine again!”
“Y-yeah! Her Highness Princess Titania once slayed monsters herself with that sword—”
“But wasn’t that sword stolen?”
“Well, the young Duke Castrain is here, so maybe we’ll be fine…”
People desperately needed something to believe in.
Even if that “something” was the burned, half-collapsed temple.
The temple—its reputation shattered and influence dwindling—suddenly became the center of everyone’s hopes.
Kronen, who’d been fleeing in terror the night before, showed up at dawn in pristine white priest’s robes and delivered a passionate sermon before the crowd.
“This is a lesson from the gods, for all of us who have been neglectful of their name!”
Standing barefoot and barehanded beneath the soot-stained walls of the temple, he acted the part of a savior to the frightened citizens who’d come clinging to vague hopes of safety.
“Have faith! We will be safe! Believe in the temple, repent your sins, help us restore the barrier, and together we shall complete the offering festival! You’ve seen what happened the moment the temple’s protection fell—such disgraceful tragedy!”
Archbishop Illian, smiling with his eyes but clearly seething inside, muttered to me in a low, menacing tone:
“Ha! That Kronen fellow sure does know how to run his mouth.”
Barbara quietly scolded him.
“Your Holiness, your language is a bit crude in front of Her Highness.”
The Archbishop chuckled like a grandpa being told off by his granddaughter.
“Crude? Come now, Lady Barbara. Be thankful I’m not saying how disgusting it is to watch him flap his gums.”
Barbara, expressionless, replied flatly,
“You just said it.”
“Eh. Even Her Highness must feel like smashing something when that man starts talking—oh, alright, alright, I’ll stop glaring. Anyway, the real problem is that people still trust him. Telling them to believe in the gods and unite isn’t technically wrong.”
While he nibbled at a snack, I quickly asked,
“Your Holiness, as the Archbishop, wouldn’t people believe you more than that… man I wouldn’t even feed to a horse?”
He laughed.
“Your Highness, even beasts eat best in their own dens. That smooth-tongued Kronen—he’s been feeding, bribing, drinking, and writing letters to build his network for years. And since the festival is under the southern temple’s jurisdiction anyway, it’s not my place to step in publicly. It’s better if I stay quiet for now and wait to correct them later when they inevitably make fools of themselves.”
I sighed deeply as I listened.
After nearly dying in a monster attack, we still didn’t know who the real enemy was.
And apparently, we had to complete the offering festival to find out.
One thing was certain:
The Empress would be delighted to hear all this.
When the monsters attacked the auction hall, Raymon had carried me—bleeding and unconscious—away himself.
Most civilians had fled in confusion, and few saw what really happened.
Still, rumors spread: a bleeding woman in Raymon’s arms, disappearing in a rush.
Now people were whispering new anxieties:
“Did something happen to the visiting royal? Is that why the offering festival was postponed?”
Ah, the way rumors spread in a crisis—I understood it all too well.
But right now, the Empress wasn’t the one I needed to worry about.
“Your Highness! Lady Vivi is contacting you!”
…Vivi?!
I rolled my eyes as I heard Debbie’s cheerful voice.
“Big sis, you’re so mean!”
Her eyes were brimming with tears.
I froze stiff—like a frog struck by lightning.
