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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Winner and Hunt Festival Queen
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The staff spun and flew, striking the assassin in the shoulder. Aracilla had aimed for the head.
It was a rather insignificant attack, causing little damage, but it was enough to buy Demian a few precious seconds.
He quickly regained his stance with terrifying speed and counter-attacked the assassin. *Thud.* A sharp blade pierced the assassin's heart.
With the last remaining assassin dealt with, Aracilla rushed to Demian.
"Demian, are you alright?!"
"Yes, I'm fine."
Demian exhaled, turning his body. Aracilla, her tightly bound hair now loose, arrived before him.
"How about you, Madam?"
"I'm fine too. Are you really not hurt anywhere?"
"No."
But unable to trust his words, Aracilla unhesitatingly ran her hands over his hunting attire, whose dark color concealed any superficial wounds.
Demian's ears flushed at her touch, as if she were on a treasure hunt.
"W-what are you doing?"
"I'm checking if you're lying about not being hurt."
Aracilla breathed a sigh of relief, confirming there was no bleeding or torn clothing.
She had worried that he might have been injured when the shield disappeared, as he was fighting on the front lines. If he had been, it would have been as good as her fault.
Her relief soon turned to anger. Grabbing the collar of his hunting jacket, Aracilla glared at him.
"Distracting yourself during a fight, are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
"..."
"If it weren't for me, you would have been in serious trouble!"
Demian said nothing in response to her sharp reprimand. It was clearly his mistake, and he had no excuse.
"Hah, I really..."
"I apologize. I will certainly repay this debt someday. Please tell me if there's anything you desire."
Aracilla sighed deeply, released his collar, and stepped back. She then placed a hand on her collarbone and shook her head slightly.
"No matter how incredibly cool I look fighting..."
"..."
"...you shouldn't risk your life just to watch."
Demian was utterly speechless. Could she... interpret it that way?
"This sinful beauty of mine."
Aracilla cupped one cheek and murmured softly. *Just how cool was I*, she added to herself.
Sensing the need to clarify before the misunderstanding deepened, Demian opened his mouth.
"...That's not it. I was watching because I was worried."
"Yes, of course. You must want to make an excuse, unwilling to admit you were caught staring at my perpetually radiant face and ended up in danger."
Aracilla narrowed her eyes, scanning the wronged-looking Demian. A subtle voice flowed from between her full lips.
"Surely, you haven't fallen for me, have you? Falling in love with your savior is just too common..."
"I have not! Don't misunderstand."
"Oh-ho, they say strong denial is strong affirmation."
"No...!"
Demian, flustered, then saw the playful smile on Aracilla's lips and frowned.
She was deliberately saying these things to tease him.
*Who said I'd just take it?*
He, who had been four or five paces away from Aracilla, took a decisive step forward. The distance closed in an instant.
Aracilla flinched as he suddenly moved closer. Demian slowly tilted his head. His face, suddenly so near, made Aracilla's eyes widen.
"Do you wish for me to fall for you?"
"...No?"
"Then don't provoke me. You might just make me fall."
Demian whispered a low warning, then raised a hand to brush dirt from Aracilla's hair. It was a seemingly indifferent yet gentle touch.
Aracilla could only look up at Demian, unable to even blink. He smiled faintly, lowered his hand, and turned to walk behind Aracilla.
Left behind, Aracilla finally blinked, letting out a bewildered sigh.
*Who threatens to fall in love with someone like that?*
Aracilla bit her lip, feeling as if she had tried to tease him for saving her but had been outmaneuvered instead.
*Next time, I'll use a different repertoire to tease him.* Resolving this, she approached Demian, who was examining the assassins sprawled on the ground.
"I intentionally didn't kill them to find out who's behind this. Take them quickly and investigate. We need to expose who committed such a despicable act."
Then, Demian, who was kneeling and closely examining one of the assassins, spoke.
"That won't be possible, I'm afraid. They're all dead."
"What? No way. I tried so hard not to kill them...!"
Demian seemed to have no leeway to hold back while fighting with a sword, so she had taken it upon herself to use weaker magic to keep some of them alive.
She had tried so hard just to knock them out. Unable to believe they were all dead, she checked for herself and found that they truly were, their lips blue and eyes wide open.
*...Wait, then the black mage!*
Suddenly remembering the black mage, Aracilla rushed to check. However, the black mage, sitting collapsed and motionless, had also ceased breathing.
"They shouldn't have died like this from my magic... Did they commit suicide?"
"It's possible they did, or someone else might have killed them and then themselves to keep a secret."
Demian pulled off one assassin's mask and turned the exposed man's jaw from side to side. There were no obvious external injuries, nor signs of poisoning, making the cause of death a mystery.
And he hadn't bitten his tongue either.
He pressed the man's jaw sideways until his neck was almost completely twisted. This revealed a black tattoo hidden in the collar of his clothing.
"This is..."
"It's black magic. It seems they had a suicide spell etched onto their bodies that would activate if their mission failed."
Aracilla, who had been watching from behind, felt the faint black magic remaining in the tattoo and spoke.
She had tried so hard to keep them alive, only for them to have a suicide spell etched on them. It was a truly disheartening outcome.
"Who on earth sent them?"
"Most likely the Vandermir Ducal Family."
Demian answered calmly. Given their wealth and animosity, they were the only enemies capable of sending so many skilled assassins.
"It's the first time they've sent a black mage, but if they were targeting Madam as well, it makes sense."
After all, a fellow mage would be best suited to deal with a mage.
Listening to Demian's utterly calm words, Aracilla felt strange. To send assassins after their own son, it was truly vicious.
It was even more so because Demian seemed completely unbothered.
"...Let's go back and report it first. We need to inform the outside world that this happened."
"Let's do that."
Demian nodded calmly and stood up.
***
The Duchess of Vandermir paced anxiously inside the tent, waiting for the hunting time to end.
Oscar was unaware, but the rest of the Ducal Family had collectively agreed beforehand to eliminate Demian and Aracilla.
The Grand Duchess's resentment had deepened after the joint family gathering, and they had decided that leaving Demian unchecked, as he was slowly gaining prominence since his marriage, could pose a greater danger.
In truth, there was no need to kill Aracilla, but following the Grand Duchess's advice not to leave any loose ends, they decided to stage their deaths as an accident alongside Demian's.
By now, the black mage they had hired for a large sum would have lured their prey, the two of them, to a secluded spot, where the assassins would surely be attacking them.
What would be the outcome this time? It was a mix of worry and anticipation.
"Dear, this time, it must have succeeded, right?"
The Duchess asked, embracing her husband, who was sitting on the sofa smoking a cigar, from behind.
"Of course. We sent skilled assassins and even a black mage. Even if they don't both die, they won't return unharmed."
The Duke replied coldly. There was no hint of guilt in him, despite sending assassins after his son and daughter-in-law.
The Duchess smiled, satisfied. It meant her husband didn't care for his deceased ex-wife's son.
"We even made them sign a contract to commit suicide if they failed, so there won't be any loose ends or blackmail like before."
"You truly are amazing, dear. So thorough and intelligent!"
The Duchess rested her face on her husband's shoulder, showering him with praise. The Duke's expression became smug.
However, their expectations were utterly shattered. The two returned precisely on time, looking perfectly fine.
The Duke and Duchess clutched the back of their necks, seeing them unharmed from head to toe.
They even reported that they had been attacked by unknown assailants during the hunt.
"Dear, our involvement won't be exposed, will it...?"
The Duchess, who had returned to the tent after confirming her stepson's safe return, was anxious. The Duke took out a new cigar and bit down on it, replying sharply.
"Of course not! The assassins are all dead. That's why Demian, that brat, came back empty-handed, isn't he?"
"That's a relief then... He's been persistent since he was a child. Always stubbornly returning alive, no matter what we do."
The Duke silently agreed. As a heavy silence pressed down on the tent, Oscar returned.
"Mother, Father. I'm back."
"You're back, Oscar? Did you have a good hunt?"
"Yes, fairly well."
Oscar casually lied, even though he had spent the entire time playing instead of hunting. His mind was entirely preoccupied with telling his parents the brilliant idea he had come up with today.
*...But the atmosphere is a bit off?*
A premonition that it wasn't the right time to speak made Oscar discreetly keep his mouth shut.
Why were they in such a bad mood?
He, who had been fooling around and was unaware of how the Hunting Festival was progressing, only realized the reason a moment later, when the awards ceremony began.
Contrary to what his mother had said that morning, Demian was proudly named one of the three finalists for the winner.
***
The awards ceremony to determine the Hunting Festival winner began at 6 PM.
All attendees gathered below the stage set up next to the red tent.
Aracilla spotted the Vandermir Ducal Family amidst the crowd and recalled the conversation she had just had with Demian.
*I reported it, but we can't expect much from the outcome. It has often ended inconclusively like this.*
*How can that be? You're a member of the Vandermir Ducal Family.*
*The family's name shines when they empower me. In a case like this, they're highly likely to deliberately intervene, offer lukewarm cooperation, and then quietly sweep it under the rug.*
Considering the Vandermir Ducal Family's power, it wasn't surprising. They could easily make a murder disappear.
*What pathetic people.*
Aracilla glared at them, watching them chat and laugh together, then turned her head forward as the announcer's voice rang out.
"I will now announce the three finalists for the winner. His Royal Highness Crown Prince Frederick, Sir Demian Vandermir, and Madam Aracilla Vandermir!"
The three ascended the stage as their names were called. The atmosphere intensified as Aracilla truly made it as a finalist.
Who among the three would be the winner?
Curious and expectant gazes focused on the stage. The announcer paused for effect, then announced the winner.
"This year's Hunting Festival winner is... Congratulations! Madam Aracilla Vandermir!"
Aracilla won, Frederick placed second, and Demian placed third.
The fox Aracilla caught at the very end of the competition decided the rankings. With a similar number of hunted game as Frederick, that one fox made all the difference, giving her a numerical advantage.
*Clap, clap, clap!*
Amidst the showering applause, Aracilla received a laurel wreath from Duke Sander, who was presenting the awards. The laurel wreath was placed upon her tightly re-tied lavender hair.
"Wow, isn't this the first time a woman has won in the history of the Hunting Festival?"
"As expected of a candidate for the next Magic Tower Master, she's certainly different."
"But then, what about this year's Hunting Festival Queen?"
People congratulated the winner, yet whispered amongst themselves with questions about the Hunting Festival Queen.
The position of Hunting Festival Queen traditionally garnered as much attention as the winner.
Until now, all winners had been men, and they would offer their hunted game to their lover, wife, or the woman they admired, thus making her the Hunting Festival Queen.
However, Aracilla was the first female winner, making the choice of Hunting Festival Queen ambiguous.
"Will Madam Vandermir hold both titles?"
"The choice might go to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, who placed second."
Just as such theories spread among the crowd, Aracilla looked around the audience and spoke in a loud voice.
"As the winner, I dedicate my hunted game to my husband, Demian. Does this mean my husband will receive the unfading flower crown?"
In an instant, Demian was chosen as this year's Hunting Festival Queen.
