When the figure stepped out of the shadows, Vincent's body tensed. The moon shone brightly on the blade's edge, creating unsettling reflections on the garden walls. The air around them seemed to thicken with tension, and his heart pounded as adrenaline flooded his veins. Emelia stood motionless, her back to the impending threat, her composure unnerving.

With a low growl, Vincent said, "Step back," his hand instinctively gripping his dagger. However, it seemed as though his words were unheard. With a faint smile on her face, Emelia remained still.

The figure moved quickly, blade ready to strike Vincent with deadly accuracy. Without hesitation, Vincent lunged forward, his dagger raised to parry the attack. Steel crashed into steel, sparks flying from the impact and leaving a sharp ring that echoed throughout the quiet garden. Vincent was thrown backward by the force of the blow, his feet sliding on the cobblestones.

"Amazing," the attacker growled, their tone mocking and silky. "But you're out of your depth, Crown Prince."

Vincent swiftly assessed his opponent, narrowing his eyes in the process. Their motions were deliberate and exact. They weren't just another hired assassin, no matter who they were. They moved with the grace of a skilled warrior, having spent a long time training for this moment.

Vincent, though, had endured worse. He could use the Most Powerful Villain System, so this was no time to be timid.

He faked a low blow to his opponent's legs with a well-timed strike, making them defend themselves. Vincent flinched and slashed upward, his target their bare arm, in that moment of hesitation. The dagger cut through both fabric and flesh, causing the figure to stagger back and release a painful grunt.

Vincent muttered, "You should have stayed in the shadows," with a tone full of menace.

But before he could take advantage of his position, Emelia eventually turned around and looked directly at Vincent. He had expected them to be terrified, or relieved. Rather, they shone with an odd blend of inquisitiveness and... amusement?

"I knew this would happen," she said in a soothing but unnerving whisper.

Vincent felt his stomach turn. There was a problem.

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He gave the order, "Emelia... step back," his gut telling him she was in danger. She didn't move, though.

Now injured but undefeated, the attacker capitalized on Vincent's brief diversion. They raised their sword again, this time aiming it at Emelia rather than Vincent. As the gleaming blade sliced through the air, straight toward her, time seemed to slow down.

Vincent plunged forward mindlessly, heart pounding. He made it just in time to reach Emelia, his body deflecting the blow to hers. The blade struck its target and embedded itself deeply in Vincent's side. He felt a searing pain that was sharp, but he gritted his teeth and stood his ground.

The attacker withdrew, obviously taken aback by Vincent's selflessness. With a tone of disbelief, they spat, "You protect her?" "She's not who you think she is, Crown Prince."

As Vincent applied pressure to his bleeding wound, his vision became blurry. Even though his strength was waning, he growled, "What are you talking about?"

Emelia's soft laughter filled the garden, sending chills down his spine. "Oh, Vincent," she uttered, a melody in her voice. "You still don't understand, do you?"

Emelia moved forward and her eyes glinted with a darkness he had never seen before, stopping him from asking her any more questions. She knelt, her fingers grazing the blade hilt that was embedded in his side. For an instant, Vincent believed she could assist him.

Instead, though, she grinned. "It's time you learned the truth."

Emelia plucked the blade from his side with a quick, practiced motion; the blinding pain only lasted a moment. Vincent stumbled, unable to stand up straight, his thoughts racing.

"Emelia... why?" He was able to choke out, breathing raggedly and shallowly.

With a calculated expression, she cocked her head. "Because I'm not the helpless victim you portray me as." Vincent, I've always been in charge. You were already playing my game when you first saw me at the gala."

As the realization dawned on Vincent, the world appeared to tilt. Emelia was not a pawn in the past. He had unintentionally fallen into the trap set by this cunning woman who was involved in the deadly game taking place in Avalonia.

"You were useful," she said again, her voice cold. "But now your part in this story is over."

Once more, the attacker moved forward and took a position next to Emelia. When their gazes locked, it was obvious that Emelia and the assassin were working together. All along, this had been their plan.

Vincent, though, was far from done. He clutched his dagger more firmly, drawing on the last of his remaining strength. The Villain System was whispering a thousand different strategies into his ear as his mind raced. He only had one chance to save this, one last action to take charge of this quickly unraveling circumstance.

"Do you really think... I'll let you win that easily?" With a determined look in his eyes, Vincent let out a rasp.

For the tiniest of seconds, Emelia's smile wavered, but before she could react, Vincent charged forward, using all of his remaining strength to aim his dagger squarely at her heart.