TPWTL 103

#103. I Will Surely Save You

Greta, who had found him, spoke.

“Then… why did you come for me?”

“Because I chose to.”

It was a strange answer, but Tyson didn’t ask further. It didn’t matter to him.

He scratched the back of his neck near the edge of his mismatched mask and shook his head.

“This won’t do. You need a motive. Only then can you use your strength properly.”

The power born from the mark filled him, but that didn’t mean he could wield it at will.

“She said I could use power… because I was chosen.”

Muttering to himself, Tyson’s hazy gaze fell on the princess’s palace. Somewhere within it was a true warrior, not chosen by Greta, but by the gods.

Blinking slowly at the palace, he eventually looked away. Greta’s so-called “true warrior” didn’t hold any significance for him.

There was no petty jealousy over who was real or fake, no feelings of inferiority. Tyson simply frowned and clenched and unclenched his fists.

Unable to properly control the overflowing power inside him, he even considered asking to learn how.

“Anyway… we’ll meet today.”

His dry voice, murmuring to himself, blended with the rustling of leaves and disappeared.

He looked down at the arriving diplomats with glassy, empty eyes. Around them, imperial knights on guard scanned their surroundings with sharp eyes, while those finishing preparations for the hunting festival silently stepped back.

“…When Their Highness arrives, they’ll step back…”

“Ah, I heard in advance…”

The faint words carried on the wind matched what Greta had said.

‘Before the hunting festival begins, all the guards will step back. How ridiculous. It’s meant to show that there’s no threat in the imperial palace.’

Greta’s pale face carried a smirk.

‘Even those appointed as guards are nothing but watchers—they don’t hide it, and they brazenly ensure it happens again.’

The small mirror reflected her shaking head as she paused.

‘It doesn’t matter, because Their Highness will remain. They will surely save me.’

‘If it’s Them…’

Greta’s face twisted into something monstrous.

‘They said they would stay by the princess’s side.’

She waved her hand irritably as she gave her command.

“Partially cleanse them. Leave the princess… she’s still useful.”

Tyson’s eyes remained empty, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. The moment he began the task Greta assigned, more than half of those gathered would explode without knowing how. With the guards gone, nothing could stop him.

After partially cleansing them, there would be fewer to purify in the world, he reasoned. Even as he thought this, the faint smell of blood filled his imagination, yet his mouth remained twisted in that small, eerie smirk.

To him, human heads looked no different from pumpkins ready to be cooked—so it didn’t matter. Humans were merely things to be purified and eradicated.

And so, they had to be purified. All of them. Including himself.

At that moment, the power swirling within him seemed to find its place. Tyson’s twisted smile relaxed.

“Is this my motive?”

Having long given up on everything, even burning away anger and hatred, a faint spark ignited in the ashes he forced himself to gather. For the purification of the world. Tyson’s fanaticism was different from Greta or Bonita Hynder, though no less intense.

If Olivia could have peeked into Tyson’s mind now, she would have rolled her eyes. “Isn’t he going through adolescence too intensely?” she might have said. “And if you’re going to act out your teenage angst, why set fire to the entire continent instead of just hitting your head somewhere?”

Yet, no matter how childish it appeared, the threat Tyson carried was real. If someone claiming “I will burn it all!” merely held a match, it would be laughable—but if they held a fire capable of consuming the world…

“The princess is coming!”

At the forest keeper’s shout, Tyson scratched the back of the worker’s skin he wore like a mask and silently leapt down beneath the trees.

Keslan kept swallowing nervously. Even as the princess arrived and knights and commanders flaunted their power, he felt… something cold creeping up his spine.

Though he looked the part of a steadfast, reliable imperial knight, sweat had already soaked his back.

“Oh… incredible!”
“The Imperial Knights are amazing!”
“The succession is solid as ever!”

Diplomats praised the show of force, but the underlying motives were self-interest.

Olivia watched the diplomats, who blatantly flaunted their own resources, with unfathomable blue eyes, then gestured to the knights.

-Click.

As the leading commanders raised their swords, all knights aligned and mirrored the motion. The sun reflected off the blades, dazzling the diplomats, who immediately fell silent.

To want peace is to prepare for war—the demonstration was clear. Olivia nodded to the knights as they began moving to the outskirts as planned.

Keslan still hesitated. Should he speak up based solely on his uneasy premonition? Instinctively, he glanced toward the diplomats of Norden, toward Greta.

Since the last time he “lost” time, nothing like it had happened again…

In the end, Keslan remained silent, biting his teeth, following his comrades’ pace, paralyzed by his own baseless foreboding and innate timidity.

Olivia’s eyes, silently watching the knights parade their strength, were conflicted. These were people who had fought first and last in the continental war, who had lost everything they fought to protect—the empire, their loyalty, their last honor.

In this life, she hoped they would lose nothing. That was why this display was happening now.

Once the knights were out of sight, Olivia raised her hand and spoke:

“Let the hunting festival begin.”

Unlike previous festivals, there was no roar, no bustling of archers readying their bows, no clatter of hooves—only diplomats bowing and returning to isolated barracks. They had prepared to showcase their resources to negotiate with the empire’s vast markets.

Olivia watched dispassionately, muttering:

“When do you think the incident will occur?”

A brief answer came:

“Soon.”

Unsatisfactory, but she neither frowned nor demanded another answer. She had asked an entirely different question.

“By now, you can at least guess what will happen, right?”

“To guess a plan from a planless plan…”

“Hearing it like that is absurd. But one thing is certain, isn’t it?”

“Yes. A diplomat of Norden will be in danger, and the empire, failing to prevent it, will offer something as an apology.”

This was the broad outline of Greta’s plan, which hadn’t even properly revealed that today’s event was a hunting festival. Hearing it again from Cryer, Olivia repeated exactly what she had said to him minutes ago.

“…So what exactly is the danger?”

Until now, Greta had acted like any other diplomat, without staring intently at Cryer or showing hostile intent toward Olivia.

Frustrated, Olivia pounded her chest—but the wait didn’t last long.

Soon, diplomats emerged from their barracks with solemn expressions…

-Thunk.

A strange sound echoed. At first, no one comprehended what had occurred.

It made sense—no one expected such an incident in the imperial palace forest while the princess was present.

Diplomats, prepared with their finest resources and determined expressions, froze in shock.

Blood flowed beneath the Norden flag.

The sight was so surreal that some doubted their eyes—but the next moment…

-Drip.

A blood-soaked chunk of flesh slid along the tent.

-Thunk.

Another flew through the air, dirtying the Norden flag and smashing to the ground. Seconds later:

“Ah! Aahhh!”
“No! Ughhh!”

Diplomats, finally realizing the stench of blood, screamed in panic. For a continent that had long been peaceful, what could possibly have put diplomats—not knights or warriors—in such peril?

The vivid, overwhelming scene left them paralyzed.

“No… Norden…!”

Chaos ensued. As diplomats struggled to grasp the situation:

“Guhhh!”

Next to the Norden barracks, a diplomat, unable to escape, screamed as a hand mercilessly crushed his head.

“One down.”

Tyson, wearing the skin of a worker he had killed, murmured dispassionately as he tightened his grip on the head.