Gladean Empire, Capital city of Ksatria: 936, August 12th, Sunday, 2:30 PM.
At the center of the long bridge separating the emperor’s palace from the rest of the city, princess Euthemia panted heavily with her arms dropped in front—small cuts and bruises covering her face. Her white dress was stained with dust and blood, her short blonde hair messy and dirty—results of her fight with Maulik and Gaspard, who found her battling Tormod just outside of the palace’s gate—protecting Tori from the fierce princess.
Having been wounded prior to their fight, all parties could barely keep up with each other’s moves. Gaspard and Maulik, despite having the numbers advantage, still struggled to keep the princess under control—forcing Eric to jump in to assist. The noble’s wounds would prove too much for him to provide any useful aid however, taken down quickly by Euthemia.
“Ugh… why did you idiots have to interfere?” the princess snarled at the group. “Do you not know who I am!”
Standing in front of her were Maulik and Gaspard, holding the frontlines to give Tori some space to heal the injured members of the group. Eric kneeled down with heavy breaths, having given everything he had. Tormod lied on the concrete on his back, smirking the pain away with bandages and pieces of cloth wrapped all over his body—with Scott keeping a close eye on him.
“Haha… ow…” the detective chuckled. “The princess was tougher than I was expecting… thank you for the help, glasses lad.”
“Hey I did nothing,” Scott replied. “You should thank Tori instead. I’m too useless to help at the moment, at least without any type of ammo to my name.”
“Don’t move too much,” Tori reprimed the detective. “I’m running out of supplies, and I still need to save some for the lieutenant.” Moving to help the unconscious Gal, Tori kneeled down before the girl just to fall back on her butt with a startled yell.
“Aah!”
“Alright, let’s do this!” Gal jumped back on her feet, glancing around the unfamiliar place—fixing her eyes on the wide open-eyed girl in front of her. “What? Where am I?”
“Outside…” Scott answered, a drop of sweat rolling down his cheek. “We had to retreat in a hurry, all we can do now is wait…”
Back in the fight, Euthemia growled with gritted teeth once she noticed Gal back on her feet. “Where the hell is that brute!” she released her anger with a shout. “Shouldn’t you be bothering him instead!”
“Based on what the detective had to say…” Maulik replied. “You know something we don’t, and I’m here to find out.”
“Why do you even care?” Euthemia snapped back. “There’s nothing you can do at this point anyway,” she returned to her brazen self, smirking placing both hands behind her back. “And I don’t want to ruin the surprise for some of you.”
“Who?” Maulik asked.
“Who knows? Maybe it’s the dumb butler, or maybe it’s you. We came here for a reason remember, is the emperor even doing fine? Hmmm…” the princess placed one finger on her lips, humming in contemplation.
Her words caused both Maulik and Gaspard to glance at each other, quickly turning their glares back to the princess. Not wanting to take any chances, Gaspard relaxed his posture with a deep breath before voicing his next move to the hybrid—bowing towards Maulik.
Turning to face Eric sitting on the floor behind him—Gaspard expressed regret with a bow before speaking. “Young master, I must leave your side to protect my nephew.” He claimed. “I hope you can forgive the selfishness of an old man.”
“Just go…” the noble told his butler—nodding with a smile “I’ll give you some work when you get back. Tell me all about nine hundred years when you come back.”
“I am grateful for your understanding,” Gaspard couldn’t help but smile back. “But I’m afraid I’m only in my fifties, young master.” Leaving the noble’s side with those words, the butler sprinted away across the bridge—to which Euthemia didn’t react positively.
“Hey!” She attempted to chase after the butler, but was quickly stopped Gal—who slid in front of her with a cocky smirk.
“Not so fast, uh…” the redhead raised an eyebrow—completely oblivious to Euthemia’s name. “You!”
“Glad to see you recovered so fast, Gal.” Maulik told the girl with a smile, relived to his friend alive and well.
“Hehe, now you see why Gigi prefers me over you.”
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“You just had to take it too far…”
“Annoying pest, die!” the princess suddenly leaped at Gal—raising one knee to reveal a hidden knife holstered in a belt around her thigh.
Taking the weapon into her hand, Euthemia sliced at Gal with a downwards slash—which the hybrid evaded with a quick step to the side. Reacting with a second attack, the princess swung her blade horizontally towards Gal’s neck—resulting in another failed attempt at harming the girl, as Gal responded with an upwards kick that flung the princess’ hand away.
“Agh!” Euthemia shut her eyes closed as she held her injured hand with the other, snapping them back open just to meet the hybrid’s counter attack.
“Here I go!” Gal pressed on the offensive by planting a powerful strike with her knee against the princess’ stomach—bending her forward. Stepping away from the staggered opponent, Gal lifted one leg above her head to bring it back down against Euthemia—slamming the back of her head with her heel. Before the princess could even reach the floor, Gal spun around to position herself next to Euthemia—kicking the chest of her foe with the bridge of her foot.
“Aagh!” Euthemia bounced on the concrete—eventually coming to a stop as she rolled across the bridge. “My… my…” she crawled away for a moment, groaning in pain with a blurry vision. “My beautiful skin… how dare you?”
“Your what?” Gal titled her head.
“Well done, Gal!” Maulik exclaimed while sprinting towards the princess, taking a hold of her arms to restrain them behind her back. “And you… you will tell me everything you know.”
“Gh…” Euthemia struggled, but her weakened body could not break free from the clutches of the hybrid. “Let… go… you ugly barbarian!”
“Hehe,” Gal stepped next to Maulik. “She called you ugly.”
“Not now,” the hybrid retorted. “Hey, help us out!”
With Euthemia out of commission, Bloodhound was able to approach the now restrained princess—cautiously keeping an eye on both sides of the bridge and the palace. She snarled, growled and squirmed about, but the tight grip of Maulik in her wrists prohibited her from breaking free.
The young medic of Bloodhound couldn’t help but keep her eyes glued to the palace, both hands clasped together with both lips pressed together—having not been informed on Claire’s situation yet. Noticing Tori’s troubled expression, Eric approached the girl while resting his hand on her shoulder, nodding at her with a reassuring smile.
“She is fine, Tori.” he told her. “You already know how the lieutenant does things… she’ll join us later once she is done.”
Scott stepped next to her, smiling confidently. “Eric’s right, let’s have faith in the lieutenant.”
“But…”
“Why don’t you go and look for her yourself?” Euthemia taunted with a smirk—her face planted on the concrete. “That village girl is probably nothing but a pool of blood by now,” her smirk immediately shifted into an angry frown—as her eyebrows shot downwards into an arrow. “A disgusting, red pool of blood… pleading for mercy.” she began to talk to herself. “Begging me to forgive her for what she did to me….”
“The hell is wrong with you,” Maulik applied further force on the princess’ wrists, drawing a painful squeal from between the princess’ lips. “Listen, I’ll go back to keep a close eye on her.” The hybrid reaffirmed Tori. “For now, we should focus on—uh?”
A bright azure light emitting from Euthemia’s body caused Maulik to drop his sentence, putting even more pressure on her wrists. The princess groaned in pain, but quickly replied with a chuckle—glancing at the hybrid from over her shoulder.
“About damn time…” she said under her breath. “You wanted to know what that mindless savage had in mind? You’ll find out soon enough.”
“What’s happening?” Gal instinctively asked—turning her head to look at Maulik.
Incapable of holding the princess still, as his fingers suddenly lost their grip on her body—which glowed like a ghost with an azure light. Maulik desperately attempted to catch the girl with his hands, helplessly swinging his arms at Euthemia—who picked herself up from the ground.
“What’s wrong, barbarian? Can’t touch me?” taunted the princess. “Heh, too bad!” Her smirking eyes turned to look at Bloodhound—who stood petrified in awe. “But I don’t want people to say that I’m not a kind and fair princess, father raised me well after all.” the princess smiled warmly while pulling a small item from inside the pocket in her dress—waving at the others as she tossed the small plastic sheet on the floor, swaying in the air gently before hitting the ground. “Good luck, bandits. Know that I will enjoy every second of what’s about to happen… I’ll send pictures.”
“Stop!” Maulik demanded as he rushed the princess—attempting to restrain her one last time.
Euthemia vanished into particles of azure light however, leaving no trail of herself behind. In front of where she once stood, laid the small plastic sheet—which Maulik quickly took in his hands. Gal walked next to him, stretching her neck to take closer at the item. Realizing it was the photo of a crowd of people walking the street, the redhead tilted her head with a raised eyebrow in response.
“Uh? Is this where she is going?”
“I… I don’t know.” Maulik responded.
Tormod approached the hybrid’s, casually taking the picture into his hands without asking. Immediately recognized the person who the camera focused itself on, the detective handed over the item back to Maulik in a quick and violent motion—almost striking the hybrid’s chest.
“What the—" Maulik took a step back as he received the photo.
“I need to make a call,” Tormod muttered—frantically pulling his phone from inside the pocket in his ragged coat. “You,” he turned to address Bloodhound. “You should probably go check on the lass… I’ll go back to the city and check on the situation there.”
“What?” Tori took a step forward with furrowed brows.
Eric and Scott followed right after, scrunching their eyebrows with puzzled expressions. “What did you see?” Scott asked.
Stomping in closer, Eric extended his hand in front of Maulik—who handed the picture with no resistance. The noble’s brows shot upwards as his eyes opened wide, gritting his teeth while turning to look at Bloodhound—presenting the picture to the rest of the team.
END OF CHAPTER