Chapter 41: Failure

Vis knew that the young female soldier captain was formidable, but he had never truly grasped the extent of her strength.

Although he had heard the rumors and witnessed her in actual combat,

even though the Soul-Devouring Sovereign had been injured,

he never expected it to be taken down so effortlessly.

To Lortissa, it seemed as natural and simple as breathing.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, only a dull, crisp sound like countless pieces of glass shattering simultaneously.

The Soul-Devouring Sovereign’s mist-like body, formed from countless wailing faces, suddenly faltered,

then, all the twisting, all the pain, all the darkness dissolved into nothingness under the force that tore through it.

“Shh—!”

The black mist dissipated violently in a surge of steam, and those faces that once belonged to the unfortunate faded one by one,

until finally, the entire misty form transformed into countless drifting specks of light, completely vanishing into the night breeze.

The oppressive atmosphere that had engulfed the valley instantly vanished, even the crescent moon above seemed a little brighter, its clear light unhindered as it poured down.

An eerie silence fell over the surroundings.

No one knew which knight reacted first, hesitantly clapping their hands.

Like dandelion seeds scattered by the wind, the scattered applause quickly grew into a chorus,

the relief of surviving a catastrophe and the excitement of defeating a powerful enemy making many knights burst into cheers—

“Is it down? Is it really down?”

“Did we win?!”

“So this is… the kingdom’s strongest soldier captain?!”

……

Murphyana lay on the ground, still clutching the grass beneath her hands without letting go.

Her mouth hung open as she stared blankly at the empty ground bathed only in moonlight,

absently touching the side of her waist that had been struck before, a cold shiver of relief rising from deep within her.

The punch that the soldier captain had delivered to her in the training arena likely hadn’t used even a fraction of her strength.

If not for the floodgate being opened, she wasn’t even sure if healing magic could have revived her.

Out of place amid the cheering crowd, Norsean sat atop his horse, his face as dark as a storm cloud.

The carefully planned scheme had, without a doubt, completely fallen apart.

Not only had he failed to use the excess mercenaries as a tool to kill the damned traitors,

but Lortissa’s earth-shattering punch had made the knights’ earlier “forced” volley of arrows, fired under the guise of “urgent circumstances,” look like nothing more than a clumsy farce.

All those excuses about “necessary sacrifices” and “no choice in moments of crisis”

were, in the face of absolute power, nothing but lame excuses and reckless cruelty. Now, everything appeared as evidence of Norsean Sigliveil’s command mistakes and disregard for lives.

No glory was gained, only a mess of blood and scandal.

At that moment, Lortissa slowly turned around.

She ignored the surrounding cheers, her emerald eyes sharp and cold like two blades, piercing directly toward Norsean, who was still mounted on his horse.

“Knight Captain,”

her voice was soft but clear enough to overpower all the noise,

calm yet ominous like the calm before a storm,

“Please explain. Why did you attempt to kill Vis?”

The thought of her most important person almost being lost to that sinister trap and the dense arrow barrage—

(if it weren’t for his prior precautions…)

the icy fire of rage in the young soldier captain’s chest nearly overwhelmed her.

She took a step forward, and the invisible pressure made the horse beneath Norsean nervously shuffle its hooves.

Norsean’s mind raced, cold sweat nearly soaking the carefully maintained lining of his clothes.

He couldn’t understand.

Everything had been planned so perfectly.

If all had gone according to plan, using Murphyana as the final insurance to ensure the excess mercenaries truly died in an “accident,”

Lortissa should have been waiting in the rear with the main force of the hunting squad, only receiving word later to eliminate the source of disaster.

No matter how capable she was, how could she have appeared here like teleportation?!

(The only explanation is that she was already prepared… Could it be that she distrusted even the military orders regarding that mercenary?)

His gaze involuntarily flicked toward Vis.

The mercenary was brushing the grass off his clothes, a bit confused, as if still not fully aware of the situation.

But when Norsean met Vis’s eyes, his heart sank—

there was not a trace of confusion in those eyes, only a clear understanding of everything.

(Could it be—he knew all along? How could that be?)

Of course, Vis had noticed the complicated look Norsean had given him just now.

The emotion in those deep blue eyes was so vivid that Vis couldn’t help but return a relaxed yet polite smile, as if to say, “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Norsean had no idea that from the provocations in the training arena to the “coincidentally” needing him as the “key bait” in the battle meeting,

whether these actions were tests or simple harassment, Vis was already used to such “unjustified malice.”

After all, it wasn’t the first time he’d encountered such “unprovoked hostility.”

The nobles’ “big shots” habitually manipulating others—or simply not considering their subordinates as human, acting on whims,

Vis was accustomed to being unfairly targeted by those who looked down on him.

But this time was different—

At the battle meeting, when the officers expressed their desire to cooperate, each person carried a sincere glow, which Vis clearly recognized.

Only Norsean, who first proposed the bait plan, was clean—without a single spark of sincerity.

That alone was enough for Vis to judge that the plan to use him as bait to lure out the Soul-Devouring Sovereign and eliminate the disaster was never this man’s true intention.

Being cautious, Vis had purposely handed his personal pager linked to his phone to the young soldier captain as his insurance beforehand.

“Lady Lortissa, this is definitely a misunderstanding!” Norsean forced calm, flashing a standard noble’s apologetic smile.

“At that time, the spread of the Curse of Exhaustion was too widespread, and it was impossible to determine whether Vis or Lady Murphyana had been infected. To stop the disaster, I, as Knight Captain, had to prepare for the worst…”

“Enough.”

Lortissa interrupted him, her tone leaving no room for compromise.

“You, mismanaged the command and made serious errors in deployment, causing the operation to go awry. Your orders almost killed an ally.

I will report the entire operation truthfully to the Count. A knight should admit and reflect on his mistakes rather than make excuses.”

Norsean’s expression froze instantly.

The young soldier captain spared no further glance and turned to signal Vis to follow her, preparing to summon the border forces to handle the aftermath.

Watching their backs,

an overwhelming mix of shame and resentment clouded Norsean’s mind.

His hand suddenly plunged into his chest, gripping something hidden—

“It doesn’t matter whether I lose it or keep it… Trust me, handsome knight, you will have a use for it someday…”

The strange woman’s words, when she left that peculiar item, had been filled with temptation.

He never expected they would come true in the end.

A flicker of madness flashed in Norsean’s eyes as he tightly pulled out the object—

a tattered doll in a red dress.