Chapter 392

“How dare you think you can assassinate His Majesty and get away with it!”

“He’s severely injured! Cut off his limbs and subdue him!”

Dodging the incoming spears and swords by a hair’s breadth, he silently swung his sword.

“……”

Truth be told, he wasn’t in a great mood.

King Danon was a man who deserved to die a hundred times over, but these knights hadn’t committed any crimes worthy of death. Probably.

They were just knights from an enemy country doing their job.

Well, since they chose to live as knights instead of pursuing other professions, losing their lives in battle was inevitable.

His mind was a bit foggy.

But even so, his battle-hardened body moved without hesitation, adding new corpses to the blood-soaked room.

“Ugh! Y-you bastard…!”

A knight whose left arm was severed at the elbow gritted his teeth and swung his sword with one hand.

He deflected the blade with his own and kicked the knight in the side, sending him flying. As expected, other knights thrust their spears at him.

“Sir Fabio! This bastard!”

“Haaaah!”

Rolling backward to dodge the spears, he grabbed the legs of the knight in front of him, flipped him over, and sprang up.

“Damn it…!”

Grabbing the ankle and pushing the upper body with the other arm, the knight lost his balance and fell backward.

He mounted the knight and stabbed his heart.

That made four.

Pretending to be an “assassin exhausted from fighting two masters” made dealing with the enemies more troublesome than expected.

Still, they were the royal palace guards, after all.

Though not master-level, each of them had considerable skill and determination.

The delay in arrival wasn’t due to complacency but because the third floor was just too far.

“Be careful! Even though he’s tired, he killed Sir Andrea and Sir Marcello!”

The guards’ vigilance deepened as four of their comrades were killed in an instant.

The only attacks I allowed were a few sword strikes that grazed my armor.

The cuts stung a bit, but they weren’t deep.

“A master-level assassin? Where did such a person come from…?”

The guards tried hard to guess my identity, but they had no way of knowing.

I was deliberately making it difficult to avoid revealing my identity, so of course, they wouldn’t figure it out.

There were many potential suspects. Too many, in fact.

It could be Dane’s betrayal, the Holy Kingdom trying to cut ties, the Empire’s assassins, or even the illegitimate children vying for the throne.

So as long as I didn’t reveal any identifying traits, they would never know who I was.

I deliberately avoided using Imperial swordsmanship, suppressed my strength to that of an average master, and even faked heavy breathing and trembling to appear exhausted.

“When will Sir Cesare arrive?”

“We’ve sent someone to his residence; he should be entering the palace soon!”

Cesare?

Ah, now that I think about it, there was supposed to be one more master.

Not King Danon’s personal guard but a knight stationed in the capital.

If I drag this out any longer, he might show up. That could be problematic.

If I fight a master-level knight, my act of pretending to be exhausted might be exposed.

Is Eleonora’s rescue still far off?

While engaging the increasing number of knights, I glanced at the palace scenery through the window, but there was no sign of fire from the detached palace where she was supposedly imprisoned.

Looks like I’ll have to buy more time…

No choice but to keep rolling around the chamber and continue fighting the knights.

=======[ Detached Palace ]=======

“Bølberg!”

“You Dane dogs, do you know where you are?!”

The detached palace was also engulfed in fierce combat.

Though imprisoned, Eleonora was still the bloodline of the Empire’s Emperor and the Queen of Panam, so the detached palace was guarded by members of the Imperial Guard.

The Intelligence Department’s combatants, disguised as Danes, clashed with the guards, wielding swords and axes.

Most of the palace’s forces were concentrated at the main palace, or else they would have been wiped out.

For every enemy they took down, the operatives also suffered significant blood loss.

“Ugh!”

An operative who had just beheaded a guard was immediately pierced by another guard’s spear.

The spear, piercing through chainmail and into his organs, caused his body to convulse.

“Valhalla awaits me-!”

‘Long live the Empire-!’

While outwardly shouting one thing and inwardly another, the operative lit the oil canister at his side.

Since they were disguised as Danes, they couldn’t leave any evidence of being Imperials.

– Whoosh!

The oil ignited instantly.

The operative, now engulfed in flames, threw himself at the guard who had stabbed him.

“Ahhh! Fire! Fire! Aaaah!”

The guard, now also on fire, screamed in agony.

The two burned together, locked in a deadly embrace.

“Those… those madmen… setting themselves on fire…!”

The guards, horrified by the operatives’ willingness to sacrifice themselves, hesitated.

They were proud Imperial Guards with strong spirits, but they weren’t prepared to fight enemies who would set themselves on fire.

‘Why are we fighting these lunatics? To protect a woman His Majesty has half-discarded?’

‘The duty of the Imperial Guard is to protect His Majesty. Shouldn’t we be guarding the main palace instead?’

‘Yes. I’m not retreating; I’m going to protect His Majesty…!’

As their morale began to crumble, the guards started rationalizing their retreat.

The moment of their defeat had arrived.

“The God of War demands your blood-!”

“Uwooooh!”

Noticing the enemy’s wavering, the operatives let out a battle cry and pressed the attack, causing the demoralized guards to retreat.

“L-look at the main palace! His Majesty must be in danger! I’m going to protect him!”

Some knights openly deserted the battlefield, and those who remained in the detached palace couldn’t muster the same fighting spirit, eventually being subdued.

The operatives, having annihilated the guards, burned their comrades’ bodies to conceal the evidence and headed deeper into the detached palace.

“How many did we lose?”

“Carmen, Jin, Luke, Milon, and Perman are down. Ten operatives remain. We can’t even assess the losses from the diversion team.”

“That’s quite a few… This won’t be easy.”

The commanding operative clicked his tongue as they advanced through the palace corridors.

Maids they encountered screamed and ran, but the operatives didn’t bother to kill them.

No, they didn’t have the time or energy to waste on such things.

Their enemies were still out there.

Right here, right now.

—-

“…You are not our comrades.”

“Are you Imperials? Or is this Panam’s internal strife? Well, it doesn’t matter.”

Like the operatives, warriors clad in chainmail blocked the corridor leading to Eleonora’s chambers.

“Neither comrades nor worshippers of the same god, yet you dare imitate us and invoke His name. Truly blasphemous.”

“Those who cry out the name of the God of War and invoke the name of the heavenly palace. Bølberg watches over you. Prove your worth.”

There were four of them.

A middle-aged man with a double-headed axe resting on his shoulder.

A young man wielding a Dane’s short, broad sword and a round shield.

A female warrior holding a long spear, and a gray-haired warrior with two axes.

They were the warriors of Dane who had entered the detached palace, the final obstacle in the operation to rescue Eleonora.

“All units, prepare for battle! Take them down, and it’s over! Give it everything you’ve got!”

At the commanding operative’s order, the remaining operatives drew their longswords.

All the Panamians were either dead or had fled long ago, leaving only the real Danes.

There was no need to maintain the disguise anymore.

It was time to fight with the weapons they were most familiar with—Imperial longswords.

“Longswords, so it was the Empire after all?”

“Who knows? Panam’s knights also prefer such weapons.”

“We’ll find out after we kill them.”

The four warriors advanced toward the operatives, weapons at the ready.

Eleven operatives against four warriors.

Despite the threefold numerical disadvantage, the warriors strode forward with unshakable confidence.

“Foolish ones who have deceived the God of War. Witness His power.”

The middle-aged man at the forefront stroked his axe and smiled.

‘Bølberg’s power…? Could they be holy warriors?’

The commanding operative’s mind rang with alarm.

If they were truly holy warriors, the odds weren’t in their favor.

Holy warriors, blessed by the God of War, were strong enough to take on two or three knights single-handedly.

But the next moment, the light that filled his vision wasn’t Bølberg’s gray divine light but an oddly intense magical glow.

As the operatives flinched at the sudden burst of magical energy, the four warriors closed their eyes and uttered strange words.

“ūruz [ᚢ]”

The old man’s muscles swelled to twice their size in an instant.

“þurisaz [ᚦ]”

Lightning coiled around the female warrior’s spear.

“īsaz [ᛁ]”

Frost formed on the young man’s sword, and ice suddenly covered the surface of his shield.

“kenaz [ᚲ]”

Flames erupted from the middle-aged man’s axe blade.

The fire, fueled by the surrounding magical energy, began to glow red-hot.

“Mages…?!”

“Yes. This is the power bestowed upon us by Him—the power of ‘runes’!”

Before the operatives could process this new information, the warriors, now wreathed in magic, charged at them like lightning.