“Have I not repeatedly begged you to stop doing reckless things? One of these days, you’re really going to get yourself into serious trouble!”
Though he kept nagging him, Papillion knew.
Yulissian was not the kind of man who could turn a blind eye to injustice. If anything, he would sooner throw his own life away than ignore it.
That was why Papillion admired him and followed him. But sometimes, he genuinely worried about Yulissian whenever he did something reckless.
Papillion held the reins with one hand and paused for a moment as he rummaged inside his coat.
“I really should submit my resignation letter—cough!”
However, he could not even take out the resignation letter before the breath was knocked out of him.
Yulissian had grabbed Papillion by the back of his neck and pulled him off the horse.
At the same time, a dagger flew from somewhere and pierced the horse’s neck. Apparently coated in poison, the horse immediately collapsed and began convulsing.
After making sure Papillion was unharmed, Yulissian dismounted and drew his sword.
“Papillion, get on my horse.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s more advantageous for me to fight alone than to fight while protecting you. Ride back and bring people here.”
It was a perfectly reasonable decision.
After all, the only bladed weapon Papillion had ever held in his life was a pen nib.
Knowing that himself, Papillion obediently mounted the horse.
“I’ll be back soon!”
Papillion kicked the horse’s side and immediately galloped away.
The assassins did not pursue the fleeing Papillion. Instead, once the witness had disappeared, they openly revealed themselves and went straight for Yulissian’s neck.
He smiled out of habit, but Yulissian’s eyes clearly showed that he found them laughable.
“Only five? I think you’re underestimating me far too much.”
It did not take Yulissian long to block their attacks and cut down the assassins.
It was so easy that he actually became suspicious.
‘Could they have been sent merely to keep me occupied for a while?’
Sensing an instinctive uneasiness, Yulissian turned around.
Just as he was about to run toward the direction of the Grand Temple—
Shing.
A chilling metallic sound came from behind him. He reacted instantly and twisted his body.
But it was already too late.
A razor-sharp blade had sliced across Yulissian’s back.
The man who had suddenly appeared immediately tried to flee after being splattered with Yulissian’s blood.
Yulissian steadied his collapsing body and turned around. He channeled the force of his rotation into his sword and attacked the man.
Clang!
The man barely managed to block Yulissian’s attack and staggered backward.
Even as Yulissian felt blood pouring from his wound, he did not stop.
The longer the fight continued, the greater the disadvantage for the wounded party.
He put his full weight behind his sword in an attempt to subdue the man quickly.
The man’s body was pushed far backward.
The force of the impact caused his large hood to slip halfway off, revealing his face.
Ash-gray hair. Hollow brown eyes. A pale face with a gloomy air.
Yulissian had seen this man beside Kildian before.
“Shite Hurniswald.”
Perhaps Shite had never expected Yulissian to recognize him, because a startled expression appeared on his face.
That moment of emotional disturbance created an opening.
The instant Shite’s stance faltered slightly, Yulissian hooked his leg around his.
Shite lost his balance and dropped his sword. Perhaps intending to fight with his bare hands instead, he lunged at Yulissian and tried to pin him down.
But Yulissian was not so easily defeated.
He grabbed Shite by the upper part of his clothing and twisted his body.
Rip.
Something snapped, and a round metallic object landed in his hand.
Yulissian slipped it into his pocket, then drew a dagger and held it against Shite’s neck.
Even amid the pouring rain, the sound of horse hooves could be heard in the distance.
Papillion was coming back.
Yulissian endured the nausea caused by losing too much blood and struggled to keep his fading consciousness intact.
“Whenever my brother does something strange, your name and that of Seidel Nishurvan always seem to appear in the reports.”
“……”
“I’ll personally take you to my brother. I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to see you.”
Yulissian had expected Shite Hurniswald to resist, but he was surprisingly docile.
Not only that, Shite’s lips trembled as he gave a bizarre smile.
Just as Yulissian sensed something ominous and tried to move away—
A powerful impact struck his chest.
Through his blurring vision, he saw the back of Shite Hurniswald as he fled.
…And then he saw his own body lying motionless on the ground.
‘What is… happening…?’
In a translucent state, he floated into the air like a ghost, looking down at his fallen body.
He tried several times to enter his body again, but it was impossible. He was thrown back as though something were blocking him.
His consciousness was even fading rapidly.
‘Am I going to die like this?’
He could see Papillion rushing toward him with soldiers.
But Yulissian—
“You’re still alive! Quickly, back to the estate….”
Hearing Papillion shout those words, he eventually lost consciousness.
“……”
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was an unfamiliar woman.
Slightly drooping eyes, large and innocent violet eyes. Soft, pale-blue hair that gently waved, and delicate features.
She was a woman who gave off a lovely atmosphere even when she was simply standing still.
But Yulissian did not let his guard down and subdued the woman.
Her slender body tilted easily from the simplest movement.
It was almost startling how easy it was, but Yulissian did not let it show.
‘An assassin?’
Her face, illuminated by the moonlight, was fair, and her eyes were clear and completely devoid of hostility.
He had encountered all kinds of assassins since childhood, but this was the first time he had ever seen one who looked this innocent.
For a moment, he almost relaxed.
‘She’s trying to make me lower my guard so she can ambush me.’
She was probably an assassin who specialized in using her beauty.
Steeling himself, he subtly pressured Amaranthis.
However, that misunderstanding did not last long.
‘This is… not my body.’
He had become a completely different person.
And of all people, he had ended up inside the body of the very culprit who had put him in this state.
‘Is this a dream?’
He wanted to deny reality, but his senses were accurate.
Perhaps because he had been swept up in such an absurd situation, his thoughts kept coming to a halt. Yulissian deliberately tried to focus on practical matters instead.
‘The assassins were lying in wait beforehand. Only my butler should have known that I was going to meet the Pope.’
In other words, information had leaked from inside.
He did not want to suspect the butler who had stayed by his side since childhood, but… perhaps the butler had betrayed him.
Or perhaps there was a spy hiding within the estate.
His mind turned cold. Confusion rushed in, followed by a flash of reason.
‘I’ll live as Shite Hurniswald for the time being and find out about my brother’s plans and the traitor.’
While searching for a way to return to his own body, Yulissian decided to live as Shite Hurniswald and gather information.
To do that, he needed to know what kind of person Shite was.
And fortunately, Shite’s wife was right in front of him.
‘If she’s his wife, she should know Shite Hurniswald well.’
Before beginning a subtle interrogation, Yulissian intended to have a light conversation with her first and lower her guard.
But then—
“Who are you?”
Amaranthis suddenly threw that question at him.
It was quiet.
As the silence stretched on, my body grew tense. I glanced at Shite.
He wore a faint smile on his face, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
His legs were crossed leisurely, and the tip of his foot occasionally twitched.
That gave me certainty.
‘As I thought, his claim of having amnesia is a lie.’
If someone genuinely had amnesia, it would only be natural for them to become confused when their identity was denied.
But Shite showed absolutely no agitation.
After thinking it over, I came up with two possibilities.
1. Someone else is pretending to be Shite.
It was plausible, but somehow, it did not seem right.
Shite’s palms were covered in scars, as though they had been slashed to pieces.
And the Shite standing before me had the exact same scars on his hands.
Sure, someone could somehow create similar scars. But if they had gone to that much trouble, would they really not know that Shite was left-handed?
Therefore, the possibility that someone else was pretending to be Shite made no sense.
Then there was only one possibility left.
2. He was using amnesia as an excuse to reveal his true nature.
This seemed the most plausible.
The problem was, I had no idea why he had hidden his true nature in the first place—or why he was revealing it now.
‘Is he trying to drag me into something that would leave him covered in blood? I just hope it’s nothing like that.’
I stared at Shite’s coat, crumpled on the floor, with complicated feelings when he asked,
“I seem to be quite different from how I was before I lost my memories.”
What? Why is he asking that?
Even though he doesn’t actually have amnesia.
For now, I should just smile. If I pretend not to know, I can avoid getting dragged into anything troublesome.
“That’s right. You were left-handed. But now you seem to use your right hand more often?”
“Is that why you suspected my identity?”
