CHAPTER 74: THE GRAND BALL (4)

As Justinian and Maria continued to be drowned in conversation, the music rising to a crescendo high enough to deafen most conversations, that’s when it happened.

An assassination attempt.

A glint of silver heading toward Maria—

"Princess Maria."

Justinian quickly grabbed Maria’s sleeves and pulled her back behind him, quickly activating his skills to take care of the situation.

[Lordsworn Armor]

CLANG!

Dagger met blade as Justinian easily parried the would-be assassin, another noble, surprisingly, at least the rank of marquis.

A rank high enough to guarantee him a great life, so why would such an influential figure attempt to assassinate the princess?

THUD!

A simple kick to the stomach with armored greaves was enough to leave the Marquis clutching in pain on the ground. Justinian’s armor had now fully formed, his magical ability at full view.

"I can’t believe this! Marquis Raven?"

"What...? Him of all people!?"

Most of the guests were more shocked at the assassin than the attempt itself; an assassination at an event like this was already expected, most knew that.

But the who behind it was completely unexpected, he had no reason at all, and even crazier, Maria did absolutely nothing to warrant her death.

In fact, no faction would benefit if she died.

’This isn’t the reaction I expected.’

"F-fool!"

The Marquis laughed in pain, still clutching his stomach on the ground, but his odd satisfaction and excitement were enough to make Justinian realize that something was gravely wrong.

"Everyone!"

But it was too late, their target was already taken down.

"W-what...?"

Duke Valen muttered, a dagger planted deep behind his back, he was their true target, the princess was merely a distraction.

But it still raised a question: why would a Marquis willingly go along with a plan that will likely get him executed?

"Damn it!"

[Demon of the Court]

He strengthened the effect of his trait. A suffocating aura rippled through the hall. Fear crawled up spines before reason could catch up, targeting everyone present in the room all at once in an attempt to control the situation. This was an event that didn’t happen at all in the novel.

An anomaly, a mystery that he didn’t want to just be left alone.

He didn’t want his knowledge of this world to become obsolete so quickly.

"Nobody move!"

The words hit like a commandment, and the rest obeyed immediately, freezing in fear as they found their bodies unable to move.

Their mind didn’t know why they should be afraid, but their body knew why.

"You there, get the Duke to safety!"

Justinian commanded as he took control of the entire ball, the honored guest, taking his rightful place as the star of the show.

Just not in a way that everyone had expected him to.

"You, speak, now."

Justinian pointed his blade straight at the Marquis, who was still lying on the ground, his earlier amusement now completely gone as he found himself fearing for his life.

In his eyes, Justinian was like a winged devil who towered over him, his perception being completely overtaken by the ability, as even breathing began to be painful.

"Enough!"

Velen Von Persival immediately arrived at the scene, his presence alone completely breaking Justinian’s ability as his hold over the entire room crumbled.

This was no longer a formal gathering or meeting, and that meant he no longer fulfilled the requirement for his ability to be maintained.

[Demon of the Court Unavailable]

Behind Velen were five caped knights, each one wearing no armor and instead a blue royal military coat with their faces covered in cloth.

The royal owls, a force that only obeyed Velen’s orders, were skilled at assassination and quick killing.

The exact type of people needed in this scenario.

"Numbers three and four! tend to Lord Valen; the rest, search the entire area!"

"Lord Justinian, I’ll take care of the situation. Please watch over the Princess Maria."

Velen instructed as he left to search the area with his owls.

The ball had officially advanced to the next stage, but instead of the royal dinner, it was now a royal murder mystery.

The once harmonious music had turned into screams and echoes. Servants fled, guards scrambled to secure exits, and nobles, those paragons of composure, were reduced to trembling messes behind overturned tables and broken glasses.

Justinian remained still. His blade dripped faintly, reflecting the chandelier light above as the last echoes of the fight faded.

Maria clung to his sleeve, trembling despite trying not to.

"...I’m fine," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

He glanced at her and smiled faintly. "Good. Stay behind me."

She nodded, unable to tear her eyes from the Marquis writhing on the floor.

The royal owls had already moved, silent shadows sweeping across the room with predatory precision. Within seconds, the hall was surrounded.

And yet, despite their efficiency, something gnawed at Justinian’s mind.

’This doesn’t make sense...’

He crouched beside the downed marquis, ignoring the gasps from the nearby nobles.

"Marquis Raven." His tone was calm, surgical. "Tell me why."

Raven coughed, crimson spilling from his lips as his eyes darted madly around the hall.

"The shadow society sends its regards..."

Justinian’s brow furrowed. "What!?"

Raven laughed, a dry, broken sound. "Surprise..."

His body seized violently.

A faint hiss, then foam.

Poison.

’The shadow society!?’

Justinian’s hands trembled. Didn’t he just order their complete annihilation back at the capital? If his memory served correctly, the Snowkeep branch was the only one in operation at this time.

’Unless...?’

Another faction had taken their name and decided to mantle the destroyed society.

’That’s right... the shadow society isn’t a special faction, it’s just a name, another up-and-coming wannabe dark overlords could easily borrow it.’

Justinian was relieved slightly. While the situation was dire, at least he wasn’t dealing with the actual shadow society in the novel, the one he had already crushed before they even had the chance to rise; this time, they were just pretenders waiting to be annihilated like their forefathers.

’I’ll make them pay for scaring me like this...’