I Ended My Engagement With The Woman Who Despised Me

✦  Chapter 17  ✦

「Translator — Creator」

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The gambling den itself was relatively spacious, but the furniture had been crammed so densely that it obscured the line between night and day. Combined with the sheer number of people packed inside, the environment was ill-suited for wielding a long mace.

Thus, I abandoned the idea of using a two-handed mace — despite its power and reach — and prepared to engage with a one-handed hammer instead. Just then, Loraine took a step back and said to me…

"Would you like to handle this alone, young master?"

It was an unworthy suggestion for a knight protector, but a reasonable one coming from a sword instructor.

I nodded slightly and stepped forward.

"Hah... of all things, now I have to deal with some pretty boy who looks like a brothel keeper's lackey..."

Perhaps it was because of my modest build and appearance of a young master raised in a greenhouse; the man seated at the front sneered without so much as basic defensive posturing, let alone any sign of wariness.

Looking at his large frame unmarred by a single scar, I realized he must have relied more on psychological intimidation than actual combat, and immediately brought my hammer down.

Crack—

The impact rang out with devastating force.

Someone with decent combat experience could have dodged it, but he clearly wasn't at that level — his figure crumpled swiftly.

A momentary silence fell as all eyes focused on me.

Watching this scene reminded me of my last day in the North, and I twisted my lips into a grimace while walking forward again, shaking off the blood.

"G-get that bastard!"

"Weapons! Where's my weapon!"

"What the fuck is this sudden madness!"

These men clearly weren’t professional fighters.

They panicked excessively, tangling each other’s paths and creating chaos among themselves; the sight of them hastening their own demise drew a hollow laugh from me as I began to eliminate them one by one, starting with those charging recklessly forward.

"Die!"

I sidestepped an oncoming attack and shattered the assailant’s face with the hammer. The motion flowed smoothly, almost deceptively light — but the result was anything but.

The unmistakable sound of something breaking echoed as blood sprayed upward; those behind froze stiff, their crude reactions sapping the thrill from the fight.

I kicked the man in front of me hard, sending him sprawling, then scanned the room.

Even as their comrades fell, the remaining men cowered like lambs, too terrified to attack. Observing this, I reminded myself that losing composure meant surrendering all control—and in that moment…

A massive tremor echoed from inside, followed by a large man who smashed through the wooden door with his bare hands and let out a bestial roar.

"Which fucking bastard is it!"

The muscular man's face was like a sketchbook, covered in countless scar marks. He threw the blood-soaked man in his hands to the floor, grinding his teeth while scanning his surroundings.

When his gaze landed on me and the carnage around us, he spat venomously, "You goddamn son of a..."

Surprisingly quick to adapt, he steadied himself, cracking his wrists before kicking one of his men and snarling, "You worthless maggots! Why aren't you grabbing that bastard?"

He seemed intent on exhausting me with his underlings before making his move—a pragmatic strategy. Amused, I decided to humor him, systematically dispatching the men who lunged forward in disarray.

KWAAANG—!

These were movements forged through countless sparring sessions with Loraine; though I always appeared foolish and simpleminded during training, these techniques were learned from a genius who became the youngest high-rank Sword Expert and nearly reached Swordmaster status in the latter part of the story.

While my skills were far too inadequate to be considered perfect, they were more than enough to handle such crude opponents.

After I took down over a dozen men in one go, the muscular man rapidly darted his eyes around, trying to assess the situation.

Perhaps I was stronger than he had anticipated.

As I slowly walked toward him while watching his reactions, he called out.

"W-wait! What do you want? Money? Or is it a contract hit? If it's an assassination contract, I'll pay ten times the amount!"

His words jolted my memory. I’d nearly forgotten — I hadn’t come here to brawl, but to extract information. Wiping blood from the hammer onto a nearby tablecloth, I replied, "I need information."

"In-information? What kind?"

"Everything about the Dark Mages and the Order."

"............"

The moment he heard my words, he must have decided it was hopeless.

He immediately fled while throwing every piece of furniture he could find at me.

Seeing this, I realized he must have definite connections to either the Dark Mages or the Order, and just as I was about to chase after him...

A fierce wind sound rang out, and the fleeing man's ankle was severed.

Literally.

As if the process itself had been completely omitted.

His ankles had been severed at a speed far beyond human comprehension, the cuts unnervingly precise.

'...She really is a monster.'

How long would it take to reach such a level?

The thought alone felt unfathomable.

After silently praising Loraine, I turned to the man now crawling on the floor.

Unlike before, his demeanor had become remarkably respectful, as if he'd finally found the motivation for a proper conversation. I pressed my boot into his back and spoke, “Talk. Everything you know.”

He nodded frantically, whimpering through gritted teeth.

𓇗

"I-I just received letters to pass along messages. I don't know anything."

When I raised my hammer at his claim of ignorance, new information suddenly emerged.

"Ah, ah! Now that I think about it, they said they'd bring a new letter tomorrow! I heard it contains the next set of instructions!"

Sensing he knew more, I tightened my grip on the hammer in a threatening gesture, and he spilled more—

"Also... ah, right! Ruston! You have orders from the Dark Mage! Tell them about that!"

The one called Ruston turned pale at these words, then quickly shook his head and spoke to me.

"Y-young master, I didn't mean to... I was threatened into..."

“Did I ask for your sob story?”

"...I received orders from the Dark Mage! They told me to befriend you, then make you become friendly with people they would arrange!"

"Why?"

"I'm not sure about that either... Perhaps they were trying to gain something through you?"

Though these small fry possessed no crucial information that couldn't be discarded at any time, they had helped transform my suspicions into certainties — such as my hypothesis that the Dark Mages were targeting House Carsaril.

I judged it to be a satisfactory outcome.

'And if we succeed in intercepting tomorrow's letter...'

I nodded, thinking we might finally be able to tackle the fundamental issue instead of just chasing tails.

𓇗

The following evening, Loraine and I hid in a nearby building until we spotted a suspicious man leaving a letter. We seized him and dragged him into the gambling den.

"L-let me go!"

Though he struggled violently to break free from us, after a few rounds of physical persuasion, he went as limp as a corpse.

"I-I think he's really dead."

Ignoring Ruston, who was trembling in fear before me, I studied the stolen letter — a plain white envelope. The scarred brute had claimed it contained the next orders, but doubt lingered.

‘How could he be so certain it held orders and not, say, a shopping list?’

The question was how he could speak with such certainty about the letter containing instructions.

While there was a possibility he had told the truth, considering the Dark Mages' devious nature, this was most likely a trap.

'Therefore, what I need to do is...'

Rather than opening the letter to check its contents, I needed to have the sun spirit sniff out the traces of black magic lingering on the letter and guide us to where those traces led.

So I immediately brought out the sun spirit and had it smell the letter, asking for guidance.

"Myung!"

The spirit barked myung-myung as if saying to trust it alone, and looked in one direction.

As I walked in that direction, I spoke to Loraine.

"Knock those guys unconscious."

"Yes."

Those men would be useful as witnesses when reporting to the family later, so keeping them unconscious was the best option.

The priority now was following the mana traces before they completely disappeared, so I quickly moved my feet along the trail.

"Myung!"

We arrived at a nearby lakeside.

Just as I was expressing doubt about this location that seemed to have no connection to black magic, the sun spirit began barking intensely toward the bottom of the lake.

'Below the surface?'

Could the Dark Mages be hiding beneath the lake?

...Though the thought 'Is that even possible?' crossed my mind, I realized that with magic existing, what really was impossible? So I told Loraine that the Dark Mages seemed to be down there.

𓇗

Dale, the protagonist and the Hero destined to defeat the final boss.

Originally, he should have been growing at an abnormal pace, earning the recognition of the Northern people after brilliantly resisting the second invasion.

However...

"...I think I'll need rest for a while. The mace hit a rather unfortunate spot."

He was confined to a hospital bed after Damian Carsaril had struck him in the groin with a mace, simply for flirting with Elysia.

Fortunately, thanks to his significant role in defending against the invasion, he was receiving treatment while being treated as an honored guest.

However, since he'd been hit in such a sensitive area, he was falling into despair as he deteriorated both physically and mentally.

"...Damian. DAMIAN!"

Having been struck in his most precious area rather than anywhere else..

… his rage seethed past breaking point.

He longed to storm out and exact vengeance, but Damian had already left the North.

Worse, Dale’s wounds still throbbed, rendering him powerless.

All he could do was stew in bitterness, grinding his teeth as he vowed retribution.

END of CHAPTER

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