She crept along the wall, took a few steps towards the official residence, and quickly rolled into the grass outside the wall, avoiding the patrol soldiers’ line of sight and moving along the base of the wall.
The guards patrolled in pairs, spaced about forty steps apart, ready to call for support at the slightest unusual movement.
Naily crouched in the grass for a while, waiting for the two guards to pass by, then suddenly stood up and tapped one of them on the shoulder. The man was about to cry out but was immediately muffled. As the other tried to draw his sword, Naily decisively kicked him down, pressing her toe against his chin, forcing him to stay silent.
“I am a hero appointed by the temple, coming from Harga Fortress, bringing a message from the high priest,” Naily said in a low voice, flashing the temple’s document to the guard. “Please quietly take me to see Count Joseph.”
The guard glanced at the document, hesitating. The other man got up and continued walking: “Let the captain decide.”
Naily followed the two, watching them show the temple’s document to the captain, who was skeptical: “Are you really a hero?”
“What do you think?” Naily smiled slightly and suddenly moved. The dagger stopped at the captain’s neck, then turned to slice off a strand of hair.
The petite hero’s azure eyes were charming and mysterious as she winked mischievously: “Believe me, I could have easily snuck in without notifying you, but that would startle the Count.” The guard captain instinctively drew back his neck and gruffly said: “I’ll take you.” “Don’t draw too much attention. The message I carry is confidential,” Naily said, glancing at the two guards standing nearby. They shivered and said in unison: “We won’t say anything!” Naily followed the guard captain through the side door into the official residence. After being announced to Count Joseph, a servant said: “The Count welcomes the hero, but…” “It’s urgent, please forgive me,” Naily said. The servant had to turn and lead her inside. Saxon Count Joseph was a young man who clearly didn’t expect the hero to be female. His gaze lingered on Naily for a moment before looking away. He mumbled: “So what message have you brought?” Naily glanced at the servant standing nearby and raised an eyebrow. The servant looked at his master, and Count Joseph waved his hand for him to leave. Now only Naily and the Count remained in the outer room. Naily paced a few steps, a contemplative look on her face: “What I’m about to say may shock you, so please be prepared.
Joseph unconsciously nodded, trying to put on a serious expression, but clearly flustered by being alone in a room with a young woman. Naily suddenly stepped close behind the Count, her dagger’s edge pressed against his vulnerable blood vessel. Her tone unchanged, she said: “Please withdraw your father’s punishment against the Helder family and return the fief to the eldest daughter Melissa, otherwise…” She paused meaningfully, the blade slightly shifting. The Count shuddered, choking back a cry.
Before the count could react, Nelly stomped her foot, her cloak billowing with wind. She leaped out lightly, twisting her body midair and grabbing the window frame to propel herself onto the roof. Before the guards below could notice, she jumped onto the mansion’s ancient tree, sliding down its trunk and landing outside the wall.
She ran into the two guards from earlier. “Next time, remember to watch your back,” Nelly said, quickly disappearing into a nearby narrow alley. She ran through the silent streets, turning left and right, only stopping when she was certain no pursuers were behind her.
The night grew deeper. Although it was late spring, standing in the shade still carried a hint of chill. Nelly looked up at the moon, exhaling and relaxing her brow in the thin mist, revealing a trace of fatigue.
Her elaborate performance was intended to probe Piping’s relationship with other lords and to observe his tolerance for her actions.
Nelly returned to her lodgings, sleeping lightly that night and waking at the slightest movement in the adjacent room. By morning, she felt more exhausted than if she had not slept at all.
Time was pressing. She had to understand Piping’s situation before Karsas took action. No matter how tired, she had to muster her energy to visit the Red Fortress and meet Piping – this was the crucial moment.
At the Red Fortress, after a round of announcements, it was not Piping who came out to meet her.
An unfamiliar nobleman approached Nelly with a stern face: “His Majesty has been waiting for you.”
Klovi had pulled Nelly over before Piping could intervene, clearly indicating the conflict between the king and the palace advisor had reached a white-hot intensity. Nelly did not object, following the nobleman deeper into the Red Fortress. Midway, she realized the guide was a member of the privy council.
Their destination was a small prayer room within the Red Fortress.
The privy council member opened the intricately carved narrow stone door, bowing slightly and silently gesturing for Nelly to enter. She touched her black dagger, sensing no immediate threat, and stepped into the prayer room.
Though only two oil lamps were lit, they made the shrine’s statues and artifacts, the gilded wall paintings, and the mosaic floor shimmer brilliantly.
Klovi stood in the dark recess of the wall niche, silently looking at the glass bottle of holy water. Nelly softly coughed, and he turned to examine her. The king’s square features were even more oppressive in the dim light, his grayish-green eyes as sharp as knife edges, seemingly able to see through disguises and expose one’s true nature. Nelly met his gaze calmly, silently studying this figure who had long been overshadowed by Piping.
Klovi undoubtedly had the most reason to harbor hatred towards Piping. Nelly had already vaguely guessed his intentions.
As expected, Klovi slowly walked to the altar, speaking solemnly: “Has the duchess explained the situation to you?”
Nelly responded vaguely: “The duchess did explain some things, but…”
Klovi clearly had no patience for further discussion, waving his hand to interrupt her: “I don’t like wasting words. Simply put, you must kill Piping.”
“
“I thought the hero’s main task was to defeat the demon king,” Nelly responded neither humbly nor arrogantly.
Klovi scoffed: “Don’t play dumb. At this point, defeating the demon king won’t solve everything. Moreover, can you even defeat him?” He walked a few steps towards the right stone wall, pointing at the Verdea map on the wall painting and dropping a bombshell: “This morning’s battle report arrived. Nafari has fallen, Burgundy will soon be in the demon’s grasp, and the Normans are preparing to negotiate with the demon king.”
He sneered: “This world is already beyond salvation. All we can do is quickly remove Piping and have you replace him to find the correct timeline.”
Nelly stared at the wall painting silently, lowering her eyes after a while: “The palace advisor can’t possibly be unaware of this. How am I supposed to kill him?”
“Use the dagger you obtained from Yifa,” Klovi’s tone became urgent. “Once you do that, he will disappear forever, not even appearing in subsequent worlds.”
Nelly lifted the black dagger, letting the lamplight extinguish on its dark blade, turning to Klovi with a sardonic smile: “I may be an assassin, but how easy will it be to approach him? Are you suggesting I strike during your public audience with the hero? That would certainly cause a major commotion.”
Klovi was silent for a moment, rubbing his face: “I’ve already said this world is beyond salvation…”
Nelly shrank her neck, lowered her head slightly to ease the atmosphere: “I understand.”
