Duke, This Will Sting for a Moment (30 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 14
“Just a little more… just hold on a little longer…!”
Yuriella, feeling her grip on the reins falter, wound the leather strap tightly around her wrist. Her pale, translucent skin, threaded with visible veins, split open instantly, bleeding.
“One on the yellow roof. One on the temple spire.”
Yuriella quickly pinpointed the ambushers’ positions.
The assassins had dwindled from ten to just two. If Grand Duke Frost had been alone, he could have easily dispatched them by now with his skill alone.
“Because of me…”
Blood seeped from Yuriella’s tightly clenched lips.
“Because I can’t even properly control a horse…”
The Grand Duke, protecting Yuriella, was expending most of his time and strength on defense rather than attack.
“Because I can’t even protect my own self…”
She had always been the one protecting and watching over others.
Today was the first time Yuriella understood what it felt like to be sheltered—and to become a burden. And how utterly humiliating and guilt-ridden that felt…
“Yuriella! To your right!”
The Grand Duke sensed the arrow flying toward her before she did, shouting urgently.
Dodging the arrow, Yuriella couldn’t hold back her frustration and yelled at Frost.
“Just stop staring at me and take care of yourself, Your Grace!”
His movements had grown slower than before, and that unsettled her deeply.
The Grand Duke was a patient—a terminally ill victim of a magical poison with no known cure. Who exactly was supposed to protect whom?
Frost lightly kicked off the awning of a fruit stall, leaped onto the building wall, launched himself into the air, cleanly severed the neck of the assassin just about to draw his bow, and gave Yuriella a confident smirk.
“Do I look like someone who can’t even protect you?”
“You still don’t seem to realize—you’re the patient, Your Grace!”
Yuriella shouted angrily, dodging an arrow shot from the church spire.
Frost looked down at Yuriella, who stubbornly held the reins with fierce determination, and felt proud of her.
“Pity. If only you were a man, I’d have recruited you as a squire into our Angelus Knights. Your stamina is poor, but with proper training from the basics, you could’ve become a capable knight.”
As with anything else, the essence of knighthood lay in spirit.
“Wasn’t it said that failing to protect the Empire’s people is itself treason?”
Though it saddened him that Yuriella held negative views toward Solace, her upright and resolute character impressed and delighted him.
That was the kind of person worthy of a sword.
Someone who clearly discerns who their blade must face, who cherishes and loves those it must protect, and possesses the fortitude to uphold that conviction until the end.
How could such noble thoughts fit inside that tiny head?
If a new recruit like her ever entered the Angelus Knights, he’d gladly spare no time to spar with her, teach her the correct stance for holding a sword, and guide her on the path ahead. It would be truly rewarding and joyful.
It was a thought that would’ve astonished Leo Dominichi, Captain of the Angelus Knights.
The Grand Duke, whom aspiring squires from across the North chased after, begging just once for a spar—or even a glimpse of his face—had never once granted their requests.
Born chosen by the Holy Sword, a prodigy from birth, he couldn’t possibly understand the ordinary swordsman’s struggles. Even if he did, he wasn’t so idle as to spare time for a mere squire.
Frost then continued with a thought that would’ve left his entire knighthood stunned speechless.
“Is there a law saying women can’t wield swords? If one has the right spirit and will, anyone can. After all, where’s the distinction between man and woman in loving one’s nation and protecting its people? We’re all equal citizens of the Empire.”
Even in that brief instant while deflecting a hail of arrows, Frost had already decided he’d build a private training yard just for Yuriella at the Grand Ducal estate. Or—why make it small at all?
As husband and wife were equals, it should mirror his own personal training grounds in design and structure.
Dark, heavy stone wouldn’t suit a bride—white and gray marble would be better. Spears and doors crafted from Drean Red Oak and true silver mined only at Matia—such a wedding gift would be more than sufficient.
She was a woman who constantly defied his expectations, always leaving him flustered—but for some reason, he didn’t think she’d refuse this gift. In fact, he felt certain she’d adore it.
But the gentle smile in Frost’s eyes as he turned to look at Yuriella lasted only a moment.
His expression hardened instantly when he saw blood dripping from her wrist, tightly bound by the reins.
At that exact moment—
An assassin hidden atop the temple spire seized the Grand Duke’s momentary lapse and fired an arrow straight into his chest!
“Your Grace!”
Yuriella screamed as she saw Frost plummeting downward, struck by the arrow.
His body fell slowly, like flower petals descending through time itself.
Yuriella’s heart plummeted with him, her wide eyes fixed on his falling form.
Seizing the opportunity, the spire assassin unfurled his black cloak and dove like a predator spotting prey. He hurled his bow to the ground and swung his greatsword at Frost, who staggered to his feet.
Yuriella gritted her teeth and yanked the reins.
“Mars! Focus!”
The horse, utterly exhausted, foamed at the mouth and panted heavily.
“You can do it! We can do this!”
Yuriella kicked Mars’s flank hard and charged toward the assassin.
She no longer held the martial prowess she’d possessed as Solace, nor the Sword of Flame that had always stood by her side.
But she still retained a trace of the borrowed power Airy had lent her.
She didn’t wonder if it would be enough.
She had never once drawn her sword while thinking it impossible, nor had she ever entered battle claiming certain victory.
Even the wielder of a Holy Sword was not immortal. Otherwise, history books would never have recorded how past wielders met their ends on various battlefields.
“Though perhaps no other wielder ever lost their Holy Sword as absurdly as I did…”
Yuriella gripped the reins firmly and summoned every last trace of wind energy within her as she charged.
The green aura gathering in her hand slowly took the form of a long spear.
“Hey, you bastard!”
The assassin glanced toward the shout, squinting against the brilliant green light hurtling toward him. Before he could even fully open his mouth in shock, a sharp pain pierced his chest.
“What in the…”
The assassin collapsed onto the ground, eyes wide, unable to even scream.
Frost filled his dimming vision with Yuriella.
Her long hair fluttered in the wind as she sat gracefully yet firmly in the saddle, her eyes icy cold.
“To think I only imagined taking you in as a mere squire…”
She was someone who might one day become the true wielder of the long-lost Holy Sword Airy.
“Your Grace!”
Yuriella leaped off Mars’s back and rushed toward Frost.
“Your Grace! Wake up! Your Grace!”
Her lips, stained with blood, called out to him with desperate urgency.
“Yuriella… just who are you…”
Frost’s lips moved, but no words came out.
“Your Grace!”
Straining to open his hazy eyes, Frost stared at the woman calling out to him with such anguish.
Could it be?
Was it really true?
The same energy had lingered atop the icy cliffs of Jenith Mountains, where he’d once chased after Yuriella after she vanished from the Grand Ducal estate.
The green energy she’d just unleashed against the assassin was unmistakably that of the Holy Sword Airy—the same blade that had hidden itself from the world for five hundred years.
Fire and ice. Earth and wind—they were originally one. Though their forms and natures differed, they were all parts of the cosmos and nature, shaped by the goddess’s delicate touch.
A Holy Sword and its true wielder, each bearing that essence, could naturally recognize one another.
Frost’s gaze shifted to the assassin, now a cold corpse.
Airy was widely known as the Holy Sword of healing and life. Legends claimed that where Airy breathed life, no illness remained uncured—even the dead could be resurrected.
But that was only one side of Airy.
By nature, like the wind itself, Airy was free, capricious, and at times impulsive—capable of suddenly raging violently enough to tear the earth apart and overturn oceans.
If it could wreak such havoc upon nature itself, imagine its effect on humans. Historical records described the Sword of Wind as so devastating it could annihilate an army of a million in an instant.
Thus, people held countless theories about why Airy had vanished for five centuries.
Some believed it had grown disillusioned with protecting humanity and chose self-annihilation. Others claimed it wandered the earth, still searching for a worthy wielder.
Whatever the reason, Airy’s disappearance ignited both thirst and futile hope among sword wielders—the fantasy that perhaps they might become its next chosen master.
But as five centuries passed, most came to believe Airy had truly perished. Even the cautious Holy Sword Gaius had never remained masterless for even a full century.
Frost exhaled deeply, eyes fixed on the green aura clinging to Yuriella.
It was unprecedented for all four Holy Swords, guardians of the continent, to appear in the same era. He’d assumed he’d never encounter Airy…
“How can a delicate young lady who’s never held a sword before summon Airy’s aura—and even shape and wield its energy in attack?”
Judging by the faintness of the Holy Sword’s presence, she didn’t seem to have formally bonded with it yet…
But with such determination, she’d surely grasp Airy in her hands eventually.
Perhaps he’d ended up with a far greater woman as his false fiancée than he’d ever imagined.
With that thought, Frost lost consciousness.
“Your Grace!”
– Neighhh!
Mars cried out loudly, licking his fallen master’s face, urging him to rise.
A yellow parrot, previously fluttering anxiously on a nearby tree branch, swooped down onto the assassin’s body and pecked viciously at him with its beak.
*
“Leon! Leon! Help me!”
Leon, unloading medicine chests from the apothecary wagon, turned pale at the sight of my blood-soaked dress.
“Yuriella! What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No—it’s the Grand Duke… the Grand Duke…”
Only then did Leon’s gaze shift to the Grand Duke slumped limply over Mars’s back.
“Hurry—get him to a room—quickly…”
Leon swiftly lifted the Grand Duke from Mars, hoisted him onto his back, and rushed up the stairs.
“What happened?”
While Leon carried the Grand Duke to the room, I couldn’t even answer—I trembled so violently I had to stop walking several times.
“Just sit in that chair. I’ll go call the physician.”
I managed a weak nod, and Leon, still clearly worried, glanced back at me several times before finally leaving the room.
With a pale face, I approached the Grand Duke lying motionless on the bed and unbuttoned his coat and shirt with trembling hands.
“…”
A long sword wound lay atop his existing injury from the magical poison. Though the cut wasn’t deep, the spreading poison had caused the previously stabilized wound to swell into a dark, angry red.
I wiped the blood away with a clean cloth, poured alcohol to disinfect it, and fetched the silver needle set from the shelf.
I tried to channel healing aura into the needles—but apparently, I’d used it all against the assassin. Not even the faintest green glow gathered at the needle’s tip.
“Huuu…”
The needles, devoid of healing energy, seemed utterly ineffective.
Frost’s feverish body convulsed, burning like a furnace.
His increasingly labored breathing suggested the Flama poison had begun rapidly consuming his life—and my hands trembled uncontrollably.
“I should’ve saved even a little of Airy’s energy…”
Then maybe I could’ve at least calmed the poison…
Just in case, I leaned out the window, searching for Airy—but the spirit was nowhere in sight.
Damn it…! Where were you when I actually needed you, instead of showing up uninvited and causing trouble?
“Airy! Airy!”
Airy didn’t appear.
– Lady Solace! You’re the best! Lord Frost! So cool! Lady Solace! You’re the best!
Only the yellow parrot, having followed us all the way from the Marquis’s estate, chattered noisily.
“Airy! Just you wait—show yourself, and I’ll pluck every single feather off your wings!”
*
Leon leaned against the wall beside the door and let out a quiet sigh.
He hadn’t gone to call a physician. The Grand Duke’s life wasn’t something a mere doctor could save.
“Airy.”
Leon softly spoke the name of the spirit Yuriella was desperately seeking.
“I know you’re there. Come out.”
The air rippled, a gentle breeze stirred—and Airy appeared before Leon.
[Busy. Make it quick, Ricarion.]A wooden practice sword shaped like a staff shot toward Airy, who pouted and turned away, her translucent wings no bigger than a thumbnail fluttering irritably.
It was Gaius, the Sword of Earth—one of the four Holy Swords that guarded the continent.
Leon, the apothecary wagon’s coachman—or rather, Ricarion Greco, Gaius’s true wielder and the hidden Lord of the Magic Tower—coldly snapped at Airy.
“If you don’t want to die, I suggest you stop playing around.”
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
_____
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Hahahaha!!! She is so funny!!!!!! How she changed so much!
I love how she realized she loved him from the begining. But I die seeing him jealous of himself.
Awww