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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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The monster’s gray blade turned crimson, stained with Ron’s blood.
Mersen, inexperienced in such matters, couldn’t bear the intense metallic scent and the overwhelming sight of red that seemed to assault her very senses.
She immediately crumpled to the ground, retching.
If she had thought about it for even a moment, she would have realized that the amount of blood spilled wasn’t much, considering the size of the blade.
However, having never witnessed someone bleed before, Mersen’s mind exaggerated the scene, transforming it into a “sea of blood.”
“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t acted rashly. If I had been more patient… If I hadn’t left the palace…”
As regret washed over her, the monster’s gaze shifted from Ron’s shoulder to Mersen, who stood frozen stiff.
She slowly lifted her head, bracing for the worst.
What unfolded before her eyes, however, was completely unexpected.
The man, who she thought would be gushing blood and on the verge of death, was perfectly fine.
In fact, he moved with an agility that suggested his condition had improved, his body a blur as he relentlessly attacked the hulking monster.
He couldn’t deliver a fatal blow, perhaps lacking the strength, but he compensated with sheer number, raining down countless strikes on the monster’s flesh.
Small droplets of blood sprayed everywhere, his and the monster’s mixing in the air.
The atmosphere was such that if she wasn’t careful, she might have ended up inhaling the bloody mist.
Perhaps entranced by the spectacle, Mersen simply stared, mouth agape, at the ferocious battle unfolding before her.
Ron, risking his life to protect her, filled her mind, his image overlapping with the heroes and warriors from fairytales.
Light returned to her downcast eyes, and she felt her heart pound harder than ever before – harder than when she used magic for the first time, harder than when she received better grades than her siblings, harder even than when she earned the Emperor’s praise.
Suddenly, Ron broke away from the monster, scooping up a dark lump from the ground and flinging it towards his foe with a swift flick of his blade.
The intention behind the action was unclear, but the lump struck the monster with a sickening thud, adhering to its wounds like mud.
“Use your magic.” Ron instructed, his voice steady despite the ongoing battle.
“The intensity doesn’t matter. As royalty, you should be able to cast lightning magic quickly.”
“Y-yes…!”
At his words, Mersen began chanting, focusing on speed above all else.
Ron, meanwhile, continued to evade the enraged monster’s attacks, placing his trust in her without a moment’s hesitation.
It was as if he was encouraging her, willing her to succeed.
She refused to be a burden any longer.
Concentrating all her energy, she chanted the spell, aiming for clarity and precision.
Failure was not an option.
As the incantation left her lips, magical energy surged from her fingertips.
The formless energy crackled with electricity, shooting towards the monster – more specifically, towards the dark lump clinging to its side.
She wasn’t sure why she chose that spot, but her instincts told her it was the right call.
—CRACK!
A deafening boom echoed through the cavern, a sound far more potent than anything her meager magic reserves could produce.
The monster, so large and menacing just moments ago, collapsed with a final, earth-shuddering thud.
It was dead.
Mersen raised a trembling hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs.
After ensuring the creature was truly dead, Ron approached her, offering a simple nod of approval.
That silent gesture, devoid of any grandstanding, felt like a reward for her efforts, a validation of her worth.
…Or perhaps that was just her imagination.
“When we’re working together, you can’t make decisions and act alone.” Ron said, his tone resembling a teacher reprimanding a student.
Mersen lowered her head, shame washing over her as she mumbled an apology.
As her eyes fell to the ground, she noticed his torn and bloodied clothes.
“Ah… your wounds…” she stammered.
“A bandage would be nice.” he said casually, gesturing to his torso.
“The one I have on is soaked.”
Mersen hurriedly rummaged through her bag, her hands shaking as she retrieved a fresh bandage and offered it to him.
He accepted it, turning away as if hesitant to show her his injuries.
“I… um…” she began, unsure how to phrase her next question.
“Yes?” he replied, pausing in his ministrations.
“Did your voice just change?”
“Yes, well… my mask broke…” she admitted sheepishly.
“Is that so?” he said, resuming his task.
“Will that be a problem? Should we turn back?”
“…Yes?”
His casual inquiry about continuing their expedition, despite his wounds and her earlier blunder, caught her off guard.
“We might as well see this through, don’t you think?” he continued, his tone light despite the subject matter.
“I think we’re close to the core. Destroying it should be the end of it. How are you feeling? If you’re not up to it, just say the word, and we’ll retreat.”
Mersen vehemently shook her head, declaring, “I’m perfectly fine! Let’s keep going!” Ron’s easy confidence, as if suggesting a leisurely stroll rather than confronting the heart of a dangerous labyrinth, was strangely reassuring.
She added, in a daze, “I’ll follow your lead.”
Ron, however, seemed not to hear her, scratching his ear and preparing to move deeper into the labyrinth.
He seemed satisfied with her newfound cautiousness, and for that, Mersen was grateful.
Although his gaze felt heavy on her, as if her unveiled face was a source of immense fascination, he pressed on, focused on their mission.
She clung to the excuse that “he has no one else to rely on” as she tried her best to ignore the weight of his attention.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the labyrinth into darkness, Ron located a suitable area for them to rest.
They settled down, agreeing to take turns keeping watch throughout the night.
As they did, they shared stories, forging a tentative bond between them.
While Ron’s tales of his adventures across the continent were fabricated, Mersen, unaware of his deception, listened with rapt attention.
“I’m the second Imperial Princess.” she confessed, finally revealing her true identity.
“Is that so?” he replied, his nonchalant tone unwavering.
His lack of surprise, his consistent demeanor, filled Mersen with a strange mix of relief and curiosity.
Despite her limited experience with relationships, she couldn’t deny that this man, whom she had only met recently, had already become someone special to her.
Yet, questions lingered in her mind.
How was he so resilient?
How could he endure so much pain and still appear unscathed?
She tentatively voiced her queries, but he dismissed them with a simple, “It was just a scratch.”
He wasn’t like the berserkers she had heard of, those who lost themselves in the throes of battle.
Ron, in contrast, had seamlessly transitioned back to his usual self once the fight ended.
Curiosity.
The same curiosity that had nearly led her to her doom now stirred within her once more.
She tried to suppress it, shaking her head as if to physically dislodge the thought, but the seed of intrigue had already been sown.
It was her turn to keep watch.
Ron, exhausted from their ordeal, slept soundly, his breathing deep and even.
“…Just to be sure…” she whispered, justifying her actions as she cautiously approached the slumbering man.
His face, partially obscured by the bandage, was peaceful.
His skin, visible through the tears in his clothes, seemed unmarred, as if he had never been injured in the first place.
A blush crept up Mersen’s neck as her gaze swept over his toned physique.
Her eyes continued downwards, finally settling on a peculiar, petal-shaped scar hidden beneath his ribs.
The unusual mark, which had gone unnoticed until now, seemed to bloom before her eyes.
Why was it shaped like that?
Why did it seem larger than before?
Where did this man come from, and what kind of life had he led?
Did he save her out of genuine concern, or was it merely a sense of duty?
Her initial curiosity about his remarkable resilience quickly morphed into a burning desire to know everything about him.
However, Mersen couldn’t yet define this unfamiliar feeling.
It was a confusing blend of admiration for a fellow adventurer, trust in a capable leader, and something else entirely, something she couldn’t quite grasp.
Swallowing nervously, she inched closer, her gaze fixed on the bandage covering his eye.
What was he hiding beneath it?
What was so important that he would risk his life to protect it?
“…He wants to keep it hidden…”
Mersen stopped herself, her hand hovering mere inches from his face.
It would be wrong to pry into something he clearly wished to keep secret, wouldn’t it?
Unable to reconcile her curiosity with her burgeoning sense of respect, she retreated to her own makeshift bed, the soft creaking of the ancient labyrinth a constant backdrop to her turbulent thoughts.
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“Ah, that…”
Mersen’s eyes flew open to find Ron already awake and approaching her.
He settled beside her, stifling a yawn as he spoke.
“You can just call me Ron.”
“Oh, yes. Of course! Ron… um… would it be alright if I asked about… about your bandage?”
The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and she immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.
However, the damage was done.
“Ah… I apologize…” she mumbled, her cheeks burning.
“This?” Ron replied, gesturing to his eye.
“I can show you if you’d like.”
His casual tone, devoid of any discomfort, suggested he truly didn’t mind.
Mersen didn’t miss a beat.
She eagerly nodded, seizing this unexpected opportunity.
“Just don’t be surprised,” he cautioned, beginning to unwind the bandage.
“And, if you don’t mind, could you keep this between us? Tell other adventurers I did it all, or that you handled it yourself. Whatever you want.”
“What? Why?” she exclaimed, confused.
“This labyrinth is the Empire’s biggest headache. Even the information we’ve gathered so far would earn us a handsome reward…”
“Because I want our princess to get the recognition she deserves.”
“W-what? … Me?”
Before Mersen could process his words, Ron chuckled softly.
“Why else would a runaway princess disguise herself as an adventurer?” he teased.
“Consider it a small gift from your senior.”
Whether he was serious or not was impossible to tell.
With a final tug, the bandage fell away, revealing his face in the dim light.
“You’re beautiful.” he murmured, his gaze meeting hers.
It wasn’t a flirtatious comment; it seemed like an honest observation, spoken without a second thought.
Caught off guard by his words and the intensity of his gaze, Mersen lost all sense of composure.
His eyes, as dark and captivating as the night sky, held a gentle warmth that made her want to lean closer.
Yet, it was something else entirely that truly captivated her attention.
“W-what… what happened?” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock, confusion, curiosity, and a hint of sadness.
Ron, however, remained impassive.
“I’m an adventurer.” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
“Scars are to be expected, are they not?”
He lifted a hand to cover his eye, but Mersen instinctively reached out and stopped him.
“Don’t.” she breathed.
“But…” he began, a hint of frustration in his voice.
“It was healing well, but lately, it feels strange without the bandage…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but Mersen understood.
She didn’t stop him as he lowered his hand and reached for the discarded bandage.
The warmth of his gaze, the mesmerizing depths of his eyes, vanished once more, hidden behind the familiar white cloth.
Yet, the brief glimpse of his true face remained etched in her mind.
“You should get some rest.” he said gently.
“I’ll wake you if anything happens.”
Mersen could only nod, her mind awhirl with unanswered questions and a growing fascination with the enigmatic adventurer who had saved her life.
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