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    Translated by Lioness
    Edited by Lioness


     

    Fakes don’t want to be real

     

    ~ 20 ~

     

    “Prin… how are you-“

     

    He hastily stopped when he was about to call her Princess.

     

    Instead of answering him, Psychke swung her sword carelessly. Her silver hair, which was then reflected from the blade was followed after the screams and blood traces of the enemies.

     

    Repelling her flying attack, Verndia moved diligently, but couldn’t take his eyes off his fiancée.

     

    No frills action.

     

    A movement that is as smooth and powerful as water.

     

    It was so accurate to the extent that any vital point can’t be missed, and her speed was too good to have his eyes follow it.

     

    That wasn’t something that could be achieved just by practicing for a day or two.

     

    Even a talented person can barely master it after at least a few years of practicing.

     

    It wasn’t something one can pull off so natural and effortlessly.

     

    As its name suggests, Psyche with a sword was like a butterfly.

     

    She look delicate and graceful, and her swordsmanship that seemed to be easily evaded, but was absolutely unavoidable was something –

    She appeared seemingly fragile, but she honestly looked like she was flapping her wings like of that a butterfly, that no one dare to provoke her swift storm-like movements.

     

    ‘That can’t be true.’

     

    He realized why the princess in Silkisia was displeased to hold a sword.

     

    Psychke was a genius.

     

    He couldn’t dare compare Psychke’s skills to Yzhar.

     

    She must have wanted to hide it badly, knowing that she was a child who has a father that doesn’t love her, and that she was someone who had surpassed her foster siblings’ skills.

     

    Even if her existence could restore the fame of Sikisia, who is now famous for their swordsmanship.

     

    Not a short time passed. Finally, Psyckhe, who had cut off the last guard, opened her mouth.

     

    “Did you find the necklace?”

     

    After hiding her identity, Verndia also changed his appearance with his magic.

     

    The engagement ring, which could identify each other’s location, made it clear that the other person was his fiancée.

     

    Since she was seemingly unscathed, he didn’t ask how she was, but found her necklace.

     

    “It was a trap.”

     

    He didn’t want to be found out that he looked at her as if possessed while she was battling with the guards.

     

    As the blood dripped from her sword, Verndia responded as bluntly as possible.

     

    “As soon as I touched it, it became like this. It wasn’t even the real one.”

     

    He rolled up the forearm that didn’t hold her sword. He rolled up his forearm without a sword. Something like a bloodline wriggling as if it were alive tied his palm, the back of his hand, and his forearm like a spider web. His blood hints that were shaped as if spider’s web were covering his palms, hands and his forearms.

     

    Psychke groaned at the disgusting and terrifying appearance that she could not even express.

     

    “… Are… you okay?”

     

    “What if I am not?”

     

    Verndia answered bluntly. It was because she decided that there was no need to publicize the excruciating pain from them.

     

    “It is a curse placed on this fake thing. It gets stronger the more you get impacted or move with it. That’s why they had to release it in the first place.”

     

    From the beginning, Keitan’s necklace was not here.

     

    The false information that the original will come out seems to be a trap for those who track the incident involving the necklace, Verndia explained.

     

    “If the auction had gone on, I would have used any excuse to cancel it. They can’t sell something they don’t have.”

     

    “Then why did you tell me to steal the necklace instead of winning the bid-”

     

    “It must have meant to come and see if it was a trap or not.”

     

    Although she admits that she has been rolled like a piece of paper to be thrown away, she doesn’t seem too offended by Verndia.

     

    Was this also affected with the subtle relationship between them? Pyschke tilted her head to the side.

     

    “Then the success of this quest is……”

     

    “You just have to tell the truth and show that it’s fake.”

     

    There wasn’t much time for long conversations, so Verndia pointed towards the door.

     

    The barking of dogs, the cries from the maids, and shouts from afar were quite close to them.

     

    “Even so, I didn’t know you could mobilize even a magical beast.”

     

    He sharpened his teeth for even using forbidden magic.

     

    As I thought, I wanted to set off a spark and burn the auction house or something.

     

    However, it was under a curse, and it was difficult to move hastily. If he exposes his purple fire and people find out that he is the Duke of Lestir, they will get into trouble. He killed his temper recklessly.

     

    “Come this way.”

     

    He led his fiancée into a secret passage he used to infiltrate.

     

    Psychke followed him and unlocked the bracelet’s appearance-changing magic.

     

    Because there was only a time limit due to the lacking amount of mana contained in the bracelet. When there is no need to hide from others, she could spare the remaining.

     

    Thump. Thump.

     

    The sound of two hastily footsteps harmonized in the empty hallway.

     

    Verndia, who was walking ahead, glanced behind him with his eyes squinted.

     

    Every time she moved; he could see her silver hair tied together, rustling.

     

    To tell the truth, even if Psychke didn’t come, he was able to get out of the situation a little while ago.

     

    However, if he did, the curse would have spread and he would suffer internal injuries, so he was thinking about what to do with the scar.

     

    He received her reinforcement earlier and he couldn’t thank her enough.

     

    Verndia was a person meticulous in public and private affairs, and he was the type of person to pay back double what he received.

     

    In return, he promised to send her a dress for the prince’s coming-of-age banquet.

     

    “Let’s do some sparring later.”

     

    It was a sudden request to have a match, but Psychke understood the meaning.

     

    It was surprising and embarrassing, but at the thought of being recognized as someone good at swords, a bubble-like lump sprang from my heart.

     

    That was Verndia’s way of complimenting someone.

     

    As the only sword master in the empire and the strongest swordsman, he would always teach someone through a sparring.

     

    However, he never accepted it on the excuse that he was busy or that he could get hurt because he couldn’t control his strength.

     

    Well, in the end, Isolet would just turn it down in a pleasant way.

     

    If she was to express it in Verndia’s unique way of speaking, he would reply, ‘Are you going to mix swords with me with that kind of skill? Have you gone crazy?’. His own kind of praising someone is enough.

     

    “Yes… Thank you.”

     

    She was so happy that he was recognized by others, and her expressionless face had a young blush.

     

    And Verndia, who had been spying on her, was startled by her and almost stopped her from walking. Blue eyes that fell faintly.

     

    Long fluttering eyelashes. A mouth that draws a light arc, red cheeks, and a small fist gently raised above his chest.

     

    The sincere expression shown on her face for the first time by someone who was always trembling or expressionless while always looking at her, and the pure joy that he felt faintly through the engagement ring…

     

    ‘Cute… wait, this is… Crazy.’

     

    What the hell are you thinking now? I couldn’t believe I thought of those words while looking at her princess. Verndia shook his head like a madman.

    (TN: Our Verndia has fallen in love—ooopsss.)

     

    Then, suddenly, he raised his eyebrows and pushed her back.

     

    “Careful – ugh”

     

    He was hit by the mercenary’s charge from the next room. Verndia was thrown into the opposite room by the force.

     

    Bang! The wooden door slammed into his back.

     

    “–!”

     

    She reflexively called him the Duke, but had to swallow it.

     

    Psychke hastily turned the jewel on her bracelet to hide her true form. With her sword in front of her, she stopped the mercenaries who were trying to attack Verndia.

     

    “I heard there was only one rat.”

     

    The mercenary, who found her belatedly, scoffed at her.

     

    Her delicate appearance made him look down on her because she was about one head smaller than him.

     

    However, he wrinkled his face as he struck the fiercely flying sword.

     

    “What, is this…?”

     

    As she fell behind her for a moment, the mercenary counterattacked, wiping her frigid wrist.

     

    Psychke easily blocked him.

     

    Judging how strong he was from the sword; it was definitely different from what she had dealt with the guards before.

     

    Still, in her pure ability, she was ahead than him.

     

    The problem was that Psychke had little practical experience.

     

    “Now looking at it, you have such a nice appearance, like a water lily?”

     

    For the mercenaries who crossed over life and death, the constant swordsmanship was easy to deal with.

     

    The man, who caught the pattern of her way of fighting, exchanging several packs, blocked all attacks with his body’s survival instinct. Even though he can’t keep up with his eyes.

     

    He giggled and laughed, attacking her unannounced.

     

    She pretended to fall back, then stomped her foot and slammed it in front of him.

     

    “…!”

     

    He slapped her, but she couldn’t stop the blood from pouring down from her cheek.

     

    Without even thinking of wiping the dripping hot liquid, she blocked the attack from one after another.

     

    After a few minutes passed, Verndia showed no sign of coming. Psychke glanced behind her back.

     

    ‘Did he faint?’

     

    The slowly growing wounds stung. The robe he was wearing was also torn here and there, and it was almost impossible to see the clothes he was really wearing.

     

    Step by step, blocking anomalous attacks, she was clearly growing tired in real time.

     

    But now, she was not practicing, but fighting, and getting out of this place was more important than being tired. Before the guards whom she barely escaped from show up.

     

    Verndia had no other choice.

     

    He awakened his mana and put it on his sword. While being careful that the other party won’t see his tricks.

     

    As he concentrated on doing so, he could feel his cursed power wriggling with all his might.

     

    ‘I have to finish this quickly.’

     

    He clenched his teeth and the air around him was getting colder too.

     

    This kind of change is an opportunity because most people don’t notice it.

     

    He had to knock this down quickly, as the surroundings would gradually freeze over time.

     

    Whereas Psychke began to stamp out the differences in her experience with her skills. Frightened by the fierce attack, the mercenaries risked their lives to fight her.

     

    A fierce battle with no compromises.

     

    So, the two, focused on fighting, didn’t notice Verndia at all.

     

    At some point, Verndia, who appeared with one arm in his hand, preventing the curse from spreading anymore, was uncharacteristically hardened.


    Read only at Travis Translations


     

    Lioness

    Travis Translation

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