139. Where Do You Think This Is?

2024.02.16.

Federico was so startled to see Clade Euphris—someone who always seemed composed—wearing such an expression that he instinctively turned his head in the direction of Clade’s gaze.

As the ship carrying reinforcements drew closer, the figures standing at the bow became increasingly distinct.

Federico’s expression brightened.

“It seems Sir Eugene Kimfri has come to assist us, accompanied by our knights.”

Federico murmured, sounding slightly relieved.

But Clade Euphris’s gaze wasn’t on Eugene Kimfri—the very person Federico had welcomed—but fixed on someone behind him.

Clade’s face, faintly smeared with blood, turned cold and rigid the moment he recognized the woman standing there.

His jaw clenched so tightly that the sharp bone along his smooth jawline protruded visibly.

“……Where do you think this is?”

The words were spat out, dark and venomous.

***

As they approached the island, they drew nearer to the few tents hastily erected by the small number of soldiers stationed there.

Eugene Kimfri looked around at the ship docked along the shore and the people gathered near the tents, swallowing hard.

He had hoped it wasn’t true, but nowhere among the vanguard could he spot the uniforms of the Imperial Knights.

He had expected as much—after all, even the troops they had sent had been sent back—but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The scene, long abandoned by the imperial court, struck Eugene with particular pain.

‘Bollonico……’

How could he have fled so easily? And not even because he was weak.

Eugene, Clade, Bollonico, and Noel had all trained under the same master in their youth.

Even with the same teacher, each sword carried a different nature.

Bollonico had trained in his own way, but at some point, his swordsmanship evolved into a style completely unlike his usual self.

It was a swift blade, targeting the opponent’s weaknesses at great speed, yet simultaneously possessing a heavy, graceful flow.

Eugene remembered who had wielded that style best.

Clade Euphris.

Bollonico had clearly tried to imitate and develop Clade’s technique, even switching from his usual longsword to a finer blade better suited for precise thrusts—but he had never fully made it his own.

After becoming a prince, he had neglected training, spending royal hunts merely running away.

Even when the Emperor punished him cruelly, it never lasted.

‘Of course, one doesn’t need to be the greatest warrior to become a good Emperor.’

Eugene Kimfri’s eyes darkened.

The sword Bollonico had used in the final match was still dazzling, but compared to his training days, it was pitifully crude.

Had endless days of peace dulled his blade?

Or had Bollonico assumed that Eugene, out of deference to his status as a prince, would simply let him win?

With neither the intent nor the method of victory satisfying him in the slightest, Eugene felt no joy in having defeated Bollonico.

Just before hearing the news that Nella Coast had been attacked by pirates.

Remembering Bollonico’s reaction—like a child robbed of a toy—Eugene tightly shut his eyes.

“Can this be considered rebellion against the royal family?”

Instead of thinking, ‘I won!’, he found himself thinking this—watching Bollonico, who, despite losing, refused to accept the result and threw a childish tantrum.

‘No matter how I look at it, I can’t bring myself to serve someone like that.’

Eugene, who always maintained a composed expression, couldn’t help but contort his face in that moment.

The image of Bollonico panicking and fleeing in terror the moment pirate attacks began kept replaying in his mind.

When Eugene opened his eyes again, one person’s face was deeply etched into his amber gaze—someone he never expected to see here.

“Clade.”

The sight of Clade standing tall in this forsaken place, abandoned by the imperial court, while all eyes were fixated on the final match, strangely stirred something within him.

Even with blood splattered across his pale, smooth face, giving him an ominous aura, Clade didn’t seem frightening—only awe-inspiring.

Before Eugene could even wonder why someone so severely injured that he should have retreated to a townhouse was standing here, his heart had already been moved.

When Bollonico had mocked Marco of the south, waving the Emperor’s personal sword and calling him a servant of rebels.

Clade, though a deposed prince, had fought here alongside those very ‘servants of rebels,’ deliberately taking grave injuries just to lose to Eugene.

Eugene Kimfri’s heart, usually as calm as still water, now roiled as if a massive boulder had been dropped into it.

“Acting Marquis Companni. Our reinforcements arrived late.”

Finally stepping off the ship, Eugene lowered his gaze toward Clade and respectfully bowed to Federico.

Up close, Clade stared at him with a chilling intensity that startled him.

It was a murderous glint unlike anything Eugene had seen even in the arena.

With Clade standing silently behind him, Federico quietly greeted Eugene Kimfri.

“We’ve captured all the pirates in the vicinity. Their main hideout appears to be atop that mountain, with their captain, Karso, inside. It’s getting late, so we’re regrouping and plan to launch a surprise attack early tomorrow. However, the terrain is treacherous and heavily forested, so remnants may still be hiding in various spots.”

“Then, I’ll have the reinforcements take watch in place of the injured and prepare for tomorrow. The Marquis’s knight commander is handling stragglers on the mainland, so may I take command of these troops?”

Federico hesitated, glancing cautiously at Clade’s cold expression before speaking.

“Ah, that is……”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell Eugene Kimfri that he wasn’t actually the one commanding the soldiers on this island.

Eugene was one of the few people Federico and Empress Marilyn trusted, but whether or not to mention Clade’s prowess and leadership was another matter entirely.

Swallowing the fact that it was Clade who had single-handedly driven the pirates back, Federico glanced uneasily at Clade again.

And Eugene, sharp as ever, didn’t miss that discomfort.

“……You’re not the one in charge here, are you?”

“Stop asking presumptuous questions and come here for a moment.”

Before Eugene could press further, Clade spoke from behind Federico.

“Before I kill you.”

Quite a violent response.

***

The two men headed toward an empty tent set up for the wounded.

Tasha couldn’t understand why she had to follow them all the way in, but given that the deposed prince’s sharp eyes had been watching not just Eugene but her group as well, she quietly took her place behind Eugene.

Her gaze kept drifting to Yuan, who was watching the deposed prince with anxious eyes.

Intuitively, Tasha sensed that Yuan was worried about that ‘violent, womanizing scoundrel of a husband.’

And what’s more, while they were still separated! How ridiculous!

Somehow, Tasha almost felt a pang of sympathy—then abruptly turned her head sharply toward the deposed prince.

But that, too, was a sight that made her stomach churn.

‘What on earth is that deposed prince doing here?’

If he lost to Eugene, he should just quietly sulk in his harem and wipe the floors with his face while sleeping.

His face—beautiful and smooth enough to dominate the surroundings—was now marked with fresh wounds and bloodstains.

And he was limping slightly from the thigh injury sustained in the semifinals, yet radiating such intense killing intent.

He looked like a good-for-nothing ruffian with neither reason nor capability—so what right did he have to stand here and glare at them so coldly?

‘Anyone would think Eugene was the pirate leader, Karso, or something.’

Yet unlike Tasha’s resentment, Noel, who had been silently surveying the island with a devastated expression, suddenly became even quieter—though he rarely spoke in front of Tasha to begin with—and now stared at Clade as if ready to heed every word.

His demeanor was so obedient and meek that it seemed he believed anything Clade said would inherently be right.

Eugene had come here, injured, to a place he didn’t need to be.

As one of the Empire’s greatest swordsmen, he had willingly offered to lead people who weren’t even his subordinates.

Yet Clade’s attitude—showing no gratitude for Eugene’s grueling landing—made Tasha fix him with a sharp, piercing gaze unlike the others.

Beneath his roughly tousled blond hair, Clade’s deep-set violet eyes burned with hostility.

That sharp emotion seemed to slice through the necks of each member of Eugene Kimfri’s party gathered inside the tent, one by one.

“Where do you think this is, barging in here as you please?”

After slowly scanning them all, Clade finally opened his mouth, biting out the words the moment his eyes landed on Yuan’s face—his jaw tightening to the very tip.

But the accusation wasn’t aimed at Yuan.

It was hurled at Eugene.

“Behave like an Imperial Knight if you are one, Sir Eugene Kimfri. Weren’t you sent all the way to the south to guard those people from the palace? Why have you brought every single one of them straight into the pirates’ stronghold?”

While everyone stared only at Clade’s razor-sharp eyes,

Yuan’s dark eyes were fixed on his face—etched with exhaustion, his jawline sharper than ever, his lips and cheek roughened, smeared with blood, and his thigh—visible even through the black fabric—soaked and sticky with blood.

“To a place where human heads roll like balls. The Crown Prince, the Empress’s maids? Are you not the Second Commander of the Imperial Knights, Sir Eugene Kimfri, but the Commander of the Marquis Companni’s knights?”

Yuan couldn’t bear seeing Eugene Kimfri humiliated in her place because of her own stubbornness.

No—worse. It was as if Clade had recklessly thrown himself into danger, and now Eugene was paying the price for her own impulsive urge to see it with her own eyes.

She had promised herself she would silently endure any insult until she confirmed whether Clade was safe and whether his injuries had been treated.

But now, that promise broke.

“We came with reinforcements! We came to help! Because we were worried the Marquis’s knights might be in danger…….”

“Shut your mouth.”

His sharp, sensitive gaze landed precisely on Yuan.