Acting as a Slit-Eyed Villain Perfectly Chapter 311 : Side Story 11. Even a Sore Finger Is Still a F

Side Story 11. Even a Sore Finger Is Still a Finger.

"S-sir Yulian...!"

Pintel spoke the na of the man before his eyes, then tried to show his respect by kneeling.

Yet, just before his actions connected, a sense of strangeness flickered through Pintel's mind.

It was definitely Yulian's face.

Silver hair, slit-eye, and that uniquely composed atmosphere.

But sothing was different.

His gait was different, his posture as he stood was different, and most of all, there was a sense of "killing intent" coming from him.

'... No way.'

Was he really that displeased about what happened today at the imperial palace?

Pintel couldn't help but sigh at his own actions. To think he had let Yulian, always so calm, be so stirred.

He felt like clicking his tongue at his own foolishness.

"P-please forgive today's mistake!"

Wracked with guilt, Pintel could not bring himself to lift his head. Planting his cane before him, he knelt.

"If I have insulted you, take my life, if you wish. But, for old tis' sake, I beg you grant a week!"

A week.

The reason he specified that period was simple.

If, by any chance, Yulian's displeasure reached its peak and he demanded Pintel's neck, then Pintel would need ti to prepare everything.

For the succession of the Dawn Society,

And the new emperor.

He wanted to ensure that Yulian could follow all the procedures smoothly.

"Please, at least for that ti... set aside your anger!"

"I am not angry, sir Pintel."

The mont Yulian spoke, Pintel's eyes welled up with tears.

The only lord who had ever acknowledged him.

If he were to abandon Pintel, his world would collapse, but, fortunately, such words did not co from Yulian.

"On the contrary, I was moved, sir Pintel."

"... Pardon?"

Yulian slowly approached.

"Even if the black hair of the imperial family is dirty, that color doesn't show stains. But you and Twilight put a scratch in their authority."

Yulian's hair, bathed in moonlight, started to glow faintly.

"The fact is, both your suggestion for regency and the agitating of the people were all part of my plan."

"Then... all my efforts..."

Pintel's voice trembled. Even through his sighs, a look of joy appeared on his face.

"They were not in vain."

Yulian smiled.

"Now is not the ti to watch from the shadows."

"Pardon?"

Pintel could easily infer what those words ant.

"I will step forward myself."

At last.

Upon hearing Yulian's words, Pintel muttered in a moved voice.

"At last, sir Yulian will ascend the throne...!"

"Yes. On the foundation you have laid, I will build a new empire."

How long had he longed to hear those words?

Realizing that all his efforts had not been in vain, Pintel felt tears coming to his eyes.

Yulian slowly approached, and Pintel lifted his head toward him.

"Keheuk."

At the sa ti, a burning sensation blood in Pintel's abdon.

What on earth...? It did not take long to grasp the situation.

Yulian had, at so point, drawn his sword and stabbed it into Pintel's abdon.

Just before he let out a groan of pain, Pintel reflexively looked up at Yulian's face.

But standing there was a stranger's face, not Yulian's.

Startled, Pintel quickly grabbed his cane and cast 'Blade Magic'.

Paga-ga-gak!

The sound of sharp, blue daggers slashing the surroundings resounded. But when not a single blade hit his foe, Pintel frowned.

"Who are you?"

Clamping down on the blood flowing from his abdon, Pintel began to sense his surroundings.

The enemy was the man before him.

He wore a mask, so his face could not be seen, but he was certainly a man.

A masked figure suddenly ca to mind, but—

'He's not the Black Knight.'

He was certain the Black Knight would not co seeking him in the first place.

'... The two Twilight mbers stationed in the mansion.'

If they had noticed anything amiss when he used 'Blade Magic', they should have rushed here, but there was no sign of them.

This man must have already taken care of them.

'He's strong.'

And the situation was dire.

The wound in his abdon was almost fatal. He was barely holding it back with mana to prevent excessive bleeding, but he knew it would not last long.

"How did you manage to copy Sir Yulian's face and voice..."

He tried to buy ti to heal his wound as much as possible, but the masked assassin began closing the distance rcilessly.

Fast, and fierce.

"Ugh!"

He tried however he could to use "Blade Magic" to keep the assassin at bay, but blood from his abdon surged into his mouth and overflowed.

Still, with effort, he completed the 'Blade Magic', but the assassin had already closed in.

A sword blade shining cold and blue. Realizing it was too late to block the sword with magic, Pintel quickly raised his hand to try and change its trajectory.

But before that, the assassin's sword pierced Pintel's neck.

"Kurgh, kurkh...!"

As the cold blade entered his neck, a heat like a volcano began circulating through his body.

And, not long after, he ceased to feel anything at all.

* * *

A small hill outside the capital.

Priest Orlan, accompanied by guards, gazed at the distant sight of Pintel's mansion ablaze. The red flas colored the night sky, dancing in a grand spectacle.

Orlan muttered, a pipe between his lips.

"Almighty Solarun, may your glorious na dwell here as well."

Orlan turned his gaze to the foot of the hill. There, Lyrik was slowly approaching, ready to rejoin the group, clutching a mask in one hand.

"I have accomplished the mission."

Lyrik knelt before Priest Orlan to report. Blood still stained his sword.

"Pintel Obradin, one of the core figures bringing turmoil to the Empire through the Dawn Society."

After taking a deep drag, olan exhaled slowly.

"With his death, the Dawn Society, having lost its center, will bring even more chaos to the Empire."

In a situation like this, Pintel's death would obviously be considered an assassination. Setting his mansion on fire in such a spectacular fashion would only reinforce that assumption.

Who could have ordered Pintel's assassination?

It was easy to see what results would now co from the Dawn Society.

"With this, war between the imperial family and the Dawn Society is inevitable."

Heehee.

Orlan laughed slyly, flicking ash from his pipe onto the ground.

Then, he looked at Lyrik.

"Your skills are excellent, but don't think you succeeded on your own power alone."

Orlan slowly approached Lyrik.

"The Holy Artifact of the Holy Kingdom, the Paradox of Truth."

Orlan spoke softly, and Lyrik respectfully handed the mask to him.

"This artifact borrows the form and voice of the person the target most respects and wishes to see."

Receiving the artifact, olan called for his guards. One of them ca running and placed it into a well-crafted box.

"You succeeded thanks to this artifact, so don't get cocky."

"Yes, sir."

Lyrik answered bluntly. Orlan's mind suddenly flashed to Reinor's face back in the Holy Kingdom, and anger welled up.

"And know this, your pathetic life—if I desired, I could snuff it out in an instant."

When Orlan raised his left hand, a gentle light stread from the ring on his index finger. The light hovered and spun near Lyrik's heart.

"Understood?"

"I am the tool of Lord Solarun and Priest. I will never grow conceited, and whenever I am no longer needed, please discard at your will."

Orlan, having liked this reply, finally relaxed his scowl.

"Let's return. I look forward to seeing what happens tomorrow."

* * *

The next morning, I was getting ready to show my face at the Cryphart main house.

There was a slight expectation at seeing Brother Herand again after a long ti, but the thought of having to visit the main house also made my heart heavy.

Even as ti passes, it seems people don't really change.

Just as I was about to leave the mansion like that—

"Huh?"

I felt two n in hoods outside looking this way.

Who are they?

I didn't even have to wonder.

They were Twilight mbers.

Especially that one—I was sure it was Rim Hashar.

"Al Azim."

As they approached, the Twilight mber greeted . I knew it, it was Rim Hashar.

I almost frowned. Every ti this guy showed up, nothing good followed.

There are a few key figures in the Dawn Society, and "Rim Hashar" was one of them.

"What brings you here in broad daylight?"

I sincerely wanted to say I had nothing to do with the Dawn Society, but with them coming so often, chances were rumors were already rife.

No, maybe it was just struggling fruitlessly.

Thinking that way made my heart feel ever heavier.

"Sir Yulian, sir Pintel was attacked."

What?

The sudden news struck like lightning in my head.

Pintel was attacked? By whom, why?

More important than that—

"What happened to Sir Pintel?"

Rim Hashar hesitated before opening his mouth. As I continued to stare at him, he finally spoke.

"We could not properly confirm if he was alive or dead."

Couldn't confirm his survival?

"The two Twilight mbers who were on guard survived, but Sir Pintel was inside the mansion..."

That ant—

Pintel was completely burned along with the mansion.

'... That Pintel?'

It was hard to imagine.

Pintel was by no ans weak. The blade magic he used was both swift and highly refined.

Even when I first encountered Pintel as the 'Black Knight',

I had been impressed by his skill.

He hadn't beco an executive of the Dawn Society for nothing. I thought as much.

For such a Pintel to die at soone's hands...

Rim Hashar's words still didn't feel real.

"I will head to Pintel's mansion, so accompany ."

I had planned to visit the main house and unwind a little, but now was clearly not the ti.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

No, no, no, no, no, no, no...

I don't believe Pintel is dead.

He's one of the few people who knows the truth of the world.

It's almost impossible that he's dead.

Fuck this cliffhanger.

【( ⩌_⩌)】