Chapter 597: The King of Pride (4)

“Want me dead?”

In some remote corner, Old Ghost clutched his severed arm. His movements, however, were not slow in the slightest—he moved with practiced ease through the alleys of this neighborhood he had already parted ways with for ten years.

“Ten years ago, no one could kill me. And now, no one can either!”

Old Ghost took a deep, ragged breath. After confirming he had shaken off his pursuers, he pulled out a pill from his chest and swallowed it.

As the medicine took effect, his breathing immediately became much smoother.

“Then next... what should I do?”

After escaping the crisis of life and death, he began to think about his next step.

“The situation isn’t clear yet. I still have a few hidden hideouts. Maybe I can wait there and watch how things develop.”

Old Ghost stared at the golden great tree in the distance, thinking. But just then, his brows lifted, as if he had suddenly noticed something.

“Hm? That is...”

...

...

“Tch, that hurts.”

Muen held Celicia in his arms. Though there was soft fragrance and warm, yielding flesh in his embrace, he had no time to appreciate it. He could only grimace and rub his aching lower back.

He had rushed up in a panic just now to help Celicia bleed off the force, but he hadn’t expected the power acting on her to be even more terrifying than he’d imagined. They had been blasted all the way from the royal palace across half a district, tumbling into the Lower City before they finally managed to stop.

Thankfully, he was thick-skinned and had ways to recover. Otherwise, he would’ve been ground into meat paste by now.

But compared to him...

“Are you okay, Celicia?”

Muen looked down at the person in his arms.

Celicia’s breath was weak, her face pale. She was badly hurt. Hearing Muen’s question, she only shook her head faintly, without strength.

Muen quickly took out a magic scroll to treat her.

As a gentle green light flowed, color clearly returned to Celicia’s pretty face, but...

Even with her injuries in the process of recovering, and nothing seeming immediately dangerous, her eyes looked dim. She was clearly absent-minded, her thoughts wandering far away. She had no reaction at all to the fact that he was holding her in his arms.

“This is...”

Muen turned his head, looking toward the royal palace.

The battle between Indra King and the golden tree was still fierce. The radiance produced by their clashing moves looked like several suns rising at once. Seeing that scene—Celicia, who had lived through it firsthand, probably felt her own powerlessness and weakness even more deeply...

If that was the case...

Muen thought for a moment.

He temporarily moved Celicia out of his arms and set her down by the wall beside him. Then he stood up, bent forward, and braced one hand against the wall.

Under the golden light flooding everything, there was no quiet, intimate mood at all—yet against it, Celicia’s face looked even more breathtaking.

Muen gently lifted Celicia’s pale chin. Before those cool eyes could fully look up at him, he suddenly leaned down—

and kissed her.

Her lips were cold.

The touch was soft, tingling and numb.

There was a faint taste of blood, and a different kind of sweetness.

A quick taste, then stopping.

Muen lifted his head, still wanting more. Sure enough, he met a pair of indifferent eyes.

“About that—”

Before Celicia could speak, Muen cut in first, answering with a straight face.

“Don’t misunderstand. This is to encourage you—just like you encouraged me before. I absolutely don’t have any other thoughts.”

“Is that so. Encouragement.”

“Mm-hm. Encouragement. You looked like you were really down.”

“But I was only thinking about something.”

“......”

For a moment, their eyes met. The atmosphere was unbearably awkward.

“Come here,” Celicia said coldly.

“......”

Muen scratched his head, gave a few embarrassed chuckles, and obediently moved closer.

He closed his eyes, guessing what would greet him—maybe a knee to the gut, maybe a jade foot. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too hard, since his body was still injured.

But it was neither.

When Muen came close, Celicia grabbed his collar in one hand. Her swanlike, long, pale neck lifted—and just like that...

she kissed him back, hard.

Celicia held the initiative, taking what she wanted.

The kiss was too domineering. Muen barely had any room to resist. By the time he reacted, Celicia had already wiped the corner of her mouth and returned to her original spot, expressionless.

“Average.”

“......”

Muen’s mouth twitched. As a grown man, why did he feel like he was the one who’d been devoured clean?

No. He had to take back the initiative.

“Right—about...”

“Oh? I was just following the commotion to come take a look, and I happened to see something interesting.”

Just as Muen was about to ask something, a third voice suddenly rang out in this remote part of the district.

Muen and Celicia turned their heads at the same time, looking toward the shadowed side. A one-armed man in a tattered trench coat walked out of the darkness step by step. His gaze swept over the two of them like a starving wolf’s. Then he gave a cold smile. The scar running from top to bottom across his face looked especially vicious.

“Old Ghost?”

Muen frowned slightly. He hadn’t expected to run into the former Lower City gang boss here.

Strange. Hadn’t the Rat King gone to settle accounts with him? Judging from the look of it... he’d actually let him escape?

“Oh? So this noble young master actually recognizes me. What an honor. But sorry—I’m not interested in you.”

Old Ghost sized Muen up once. For some reason he felt Muen looked vaguely familiar, but he didn’t care. His attention quickly shifted to Celicia. His gaze moved over her, making no attempt to hide the heat in his eyes, like he was evaluating a commodity’s value.

“This lady... you’re Princess Celicia, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?”

Celicia didn’t hide it, answering directly.

“Oh, what an honor—to meet you here.”

Old Ghost performed a clumsy noble’s salute, baring his teeth in a grin.

“Princess, you don’t look to be in very good condition. So I wonder if you’d be willing to give me the honor, and come with me to a safe place?”

“You think I’m badly injured, so I’m weak and easy to bully. You want to use me as a bargaining chip for profit?”

Celicia’s face was blank as she bluntly pierced through his intent.

“Your Highness is truly exceptionally wise. In that case, there’s no point in me saying more.”

Old Ghost extended his hand.

“Please come with me. Otherwise, I really don’t want Your Highness to get hurt.”

“......”

The atmosphere sank into silence.

Celicia didn’t speak, as if thinking about something.

And Muen had already silently reached his hand behind him, gripping the hilt of his blade.

Ten years ago, Old Ghost had been able to nearly rule the Lower City. His own strength definitely wasn’t weak. Though he looked wretched now, his pupils were slightly unfocused—signs of drug use—which made him even more dangerous.

Muen wasn’t in good condition. Celicia was badly injured. To be safe, he needed to make Old Ghost reveal ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) an opening first...

“What, Your Highness isn’t answering?”

Old Ghost stepped closer and closer, his hand gradually curling into a claw.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll have to—who!”

Old Ghost barked a shout, as if he’d sensed someone else.

And at that moment, along with a sharp smack, something was thrown from the darkness, hitting Old Ghost’s shoulder.

“This is... a rock?”

Old Ghost lightly shook the fragments off his shoulder, incredulous. He turned his head and saw a timid middle-aged man hiding behind a low wall, secretly throwing stones at him.

“Stay... stay away from Her Highness!”

The man gathered his courage and shouted at Old Ghost.

“You...” Old Ghost couldn’t believe it.

A commoner?

Lower City trash?

People he wouldn’t even bother to look at when they came to serve him like oxen and horses—how dare they?

With his rationality worn away by drugs and pain, Old Ghost instantly felt humiliated. Rage surged.

He raised his hand at once, aiming his palm across the air at the stone-throwing man.

But his palm didn’t get the chance to close.

Crack. Crack.

In the instant his attention shifted, cold had already crept along the nighttime ground, spreading onto his body.

A thin frost rapidly froze him in place.

And then more rocks were thrown from the shadows. It wasn’t just that middle-aged man—there were many people. A haggard woman. A child forcing a fierce expression. One by one they peeked over the low wall, not daring to come close, only throwing stones that had almost no killing power.

But—

once flesh and blood were frozen, those stones became extremely deadly.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

With each crisp sound, first Old Ghost’s outstretched hand, then his torso, his legs, his head—parts shattered one after another, gradually turning into pink fragments that flew like snowflakes.

In the end, only half a face remained, falling to the ground, despairingly witnessing its own miserable finale.

Old Ghost—the Lower City’s former “tyrant”—died at the hands of the lambs he had intended to exploit and control. In the end, he never had the chance to rise again.

With a sigh, Muen silently put away his blade and looked toward the ordinary citizens who had suddenly appeared.

After they confirmed Old Ghost was truly dead, they exchanged looks. After several rounds of silent communication, that middle-aged man finally staggered over to Celicia.

“Prin... Princess, are you alright?”

The man looked timid and cramped, not even daring to look at Celicia’s face.

“I’m fine. Lift your head.”

“O-oh. O-okay.”

At Celicia’s command, the man finally raised his head tremblingly, revealing a haggard face that looked aged beyond its years.

“What’s your name?”

Celicia asked, “Who are you people?”

“I... they all call me Old Luke. As for who we are... we’re just ordinary people living in the nearby blocks...”

The man spoke haltingly.

“Last time there was trouble in the Lower City, a lot of our family members turned into monsters. Mine too. A few kids, and my wife—they all turned into monsters. They died. If my wife hadn’t saved my life before she lost her mind, I’d be dead too—eaten by my own children.”

Old Luke’s eyes dimmed. But he couldn’t even express pain anymore—there was only numbness, like stagnant water.

“Tonight there was trouble again. A lot of people turned into monsters again. So we gathered together to protect ourselves. We happened to see this, and that’s why... w-we didn’t disturb Your Highness, did we?”

“...No.”

Victims of beast transformation, then. In that case, killing Old Ghost—the one who had been dosing people—counted as revenge.

Even if it was only part of it.

Celicia silently clenched her hands. She lowered her lashes and shook her head.

“Thanks to you, thank you.”

“N-no!”

Old Luke waved his hands in panic. “We should be the ones thanking Your Highness!”

“Me?”

“Yes. You saved our lives. Do you remember? Back on the bridge—I... and a lot of us, we were saved by Your Highness.”

“The bridge... so it was then.”

Celicia thought for a moment, and finally realized what Old Luke meant. It was when she had ordered the bridge opened so these people could enter the Upper City to recover—and also helped them deal with the pursuing beast-transformed ones.

“There’s no need to thank me. It was what I should’ve done.”

Celicia wasn’t happy. Instead, she felt guilty.

Because tracing things back to the root, the source of these people’s tragedies was the infighting between people like them—those “in power.”

Her hands might also be stained with their blood.

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh? What does Your Highness have to be sorry about? You’re a good person—everyone knows that.”

Old Luke scratched his head, embarrassed.

But perhaps Celicia’s attitude loosened him up a bit. He wasn’t as stiff as before.

As he spoke, he also turned to look toward the golden great tree and asked,

“Your Highness, were you fighting that thing just now? I saw you fly over from that direction.”

“...Yes.”

After hesitating, Celicia still answered honestly.

The King’s Sword was, after all, the symbol of the emperor. In that case, these people would surely think she was a rebel... Celicia thought, already prepared to endure their angry or fearful expressions.

“That can’t be anything good,” Old Luke suddenly said.

“Hm?”

On Celicia’s cool, lovely face, surprise appeared rarely. She turned to look at Old Luke and asked,

“Why?”

“Because... a tree that huge—how much nourishment does it have to suck up? If the wheat harvest is bad this year, bread prices will go up again!”

Old Luke sighed.

“It’s rare to have a year where bread prices don’t go up. I really hope it can stay that way for a long time.”

“......”

Celicia parted her lips, but no words came out.

Only some nameless emotion flowed deep inside her heart.

“Ah, right—speaking of bread, Your Highness, are you hungry? I still have some bread left.”

Maybe seeing how pale Celicia looked, Old Luke, as if offering treasure, pulled out a piece of bread wrapped in cloth—layer after layer, carefully stored.

But it was only a piece of black bread. Five Emil per pound.

In the great noble houses of the Upper City, no one would even use it to wipe shoes.

“Ah...”

Old Luke also reacted at this point. He had actually tried to offer a noble princess black bread—this was far too disrespectful.

He hurriedly pulled his hand back.

“S-sorry. I... I got carried away. Please forgive me, Your Highness...”

But...

his hand was suddenly empty. When he came back to himself, he found the black bread in his hand had already been taken by Celicia.

Celicia took a small bite.

A rough, bitter taste instantly filled her mouth.

Unhulled wheat husk, fine bits of sand—everything was mixed into the bread. Let alone swallowing it, even chewing was difficult.

And yet, this kind of thing was what most people in this city cared about most.

More than the King’s Sword. More than the golden great tree. More than that lofty imperial throne...

They cared about it more.

“It won’t go up.”

After swallowing the entire piece of bread, Celicia lifted her head and stared at the golden great tree in the distance.

Golden light reflected in eyes like a frozen lake. Inside them, it was like flames—burning fiercely.

“The price of bread won’t go up. I promise you.”