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VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 33
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 11:15:34 +0000 UTCVOLUME 15: CHAPTER 33
“I almost didn’t recognize you, Princess. Is that an artifact?”
“Amazing, isn’t it? The magic imbued in this bracelet lasts for up to eight hours—just enough time for us to stroll around the capital and return to the palace.”
Princess Vivienne grinned proudly as she twirled to show off her disguise. Her golden hair and emerald eyes had turned a soft shade of brown, and her formal gown was replaced with the modest attire of a commoner. Though she still carried that faint, refined air unique to nobles, her current appearance was convincing enough to blend seamlessly into the crowd.
“So, where do we go?” she asked brightly.
At first, she had been nervous about going on a date with the renowned King of Lukas. But after changing into her disguise and activating the artifact, her anxiety had melted away—almost as if the magic had stripped her of the weight of her title too.
“I don’t know,” said Lark.
“You don’t?” she said, blinking. “Your Majesty, aren’t you supposed to be the one leading in moments like these?”
Lark chuckled. “I wish I could. But, Princess, how am I supposed to lead you when it’s my first time in this city?”
“You have a point,” she admitted with a thoughtful hum. “Hmm… let’s see. The Entertainment District is quite lively. There’s the Arm Wrestling Tournament, the Seer’s Pavilion, the Slave Riding Competition, the Opera, the Hayangji Club, Pastry Street, and the Butcher’s Smoke Hut. If none of those interest you, we can always visit the Firefly Garden—it’s a tourist classic.”
The ease with which she listed the attractions said a lot about how often the princess had slipped out of the palace in disguise. She even had an artifact made just for that purpose.
“Slave Riding Competition?” said Lark, raising a brow.
Vivienne understood his tone immediately. As a member of the royal family, she was well aware of the sensitive nature of such events.
“I heard Your Majesty abolished slavery in your country.”
“I’ve been trying,” Lark replied.
“So the black market still exists despite the royal decree, huh? As expected. It’ll probably take years—maybe even decades—before people start seeing slavery as something to be ashamed of.”
Lark quietly agreed.
It would take more than a royal edict to erase something so deeply rooted.
Thankfully, he had firm control over the merchant guilds through Big Mona and Reginald Vont. The two never hesitated to report any illegal activities directly to him, even if it meant going against their own kind.
And while a few nobles still desired slaves, finding one had become a near-impossible task, thanks to the restrictions enforced by the merchants loyal to the crown.
“I’m curious,” said Lark. “What exactly is this Slave Riding Competition about?”
“I’m ashamed to say—it’s exactly what it sounds like,” Princess Vivienne replied quietly. “Slave riding.”
She went on to explain that it was one of the long-standing traditions of the Kingdom of Thornforge—popular enough that many establishments hosted it on weekends to draw crowds.
Slave owners would pick their most agile servants, mount them like beasts of burden, and race toward the finish line before a cheering audience.
It was revolting, but Lark knew it was ingrained in the culture here.
Much like how slavery had once been accepted in the Kingdom of Lukas before his reign, such acts weren’t considered shameful or illegal in Thornforge.
Noticing the unease growing on the princess’s face as she spoke, Lark decided to steer the topic elsewhere.
“The Seer’s Pavilion and the Hayangji Club sound interesting,” he said. “Let’s visit those.”
Vivienne’s eyes brightened, relief flashing across her expression. “Of course!”
They climbed into the carriage provided by King Gram. Once inside, Vivienne leaned forward, opened the front window, and said to the coachman, “To the Seer’s Pavilion.”
Though the man didn’t recognize her, he nodded without question. Anyone accompanying the foreign king, even in plain clothes, was clearly someone of importance.
With a click of his tongue, he snapped the reins, and the horses started forward. The carriage rolled out from the villa and into the bustling streets.
In less than an hour, they arrived.
“There’s quite a line,” said Lark, glancing at the crowd outside the Pavilion.
Unlike Vivienne, he didn’t need a disguise—no one here would recognize him. Even so, people occasionally turned to look at him, sensing his poise and bearing. Nobility was difficult to hide.
“It’s always like this,” said the princess. “The Seer is famous for his accuracy.”
“What? You mean it’s not just a sham?” said Lark.
Vivienne laughed. “You thought it was a scam, and yet you still wanted to come?”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,” said Lark with a small smile. “It’ll be interesting either way.”
“Well, that’s true,” she said with a shrug. “Did you know? The Empire once tried to recruit him, but he turned them down.”
Lark’s brows lifted slightly. ‘As expected of the Empire,’ he thought.
Their influence reached even distant kingdoms like this.
“Of course, it could just be a rumor,” she added. “But I believe it.”
“You’ve met him before?”
“Several times. This will be my eighth visit.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Mostly predictions about the day ahead.” Vivienne paused, then smiled faintly. “Lark… do you know about the Prediction Paradox?”
He gave a slight nod, urging her to go on.
Before coming here, they had agreed to call each other by name while in public, just to avoid suspicion.
“It’s a self-defeating prophecy,” she said. “If a prediction is known, and people act on it, their actions can change the outcome—making the prediction false. That’s why the Seer never speaks plainly. He uses riddles, metaphors, vague hints.”
“Must be frustrating,” said Lark, amused.
He could already imagine people racking their brains over cryptic words, only to understand their meaning after the event had passed.
“I’m sure many are frustrated,” said Vivienne. “But most still come, hoping to catch even a glimpse of their fate.”
“No wonder the line’s so long,” said Lark. “At this rate, we’ll be here for hours.”
Before he could finish, Vivienne clasped his hand and pulled him toward the front of the line.
“What are you—”
“—I told you, didn’t I? This isn’t my first time here. You have your plaque, and I have mine.”
The crowd immediately voiced their complaints as the princess cut through the line. Expecting this, she slipped a silver plaque from her pocket and held it up for all to see.
Seeing the plaque, the murmuring crowd instantly fell silent.
It wasn’t a royal emblem, but the Seer’s own plaque.
According to the rules, anyone who possessed one was granted priority entry to the pavilion. No questions asked.
With the line cleared, Princess Vivienne and Lark finally stepped inside to meet the famed Seer.
The pavilion’s interior was dim and heavy with incense. In the center of the room sat an emaciated old man with a flowing white beard.
“That’s the Seer,” whispered Vivienne. “Let’s go. Hey, what’s wrong?”
Lark didn’t move to sit before the Seer immediately. Instead, he stood there, staring at the old man in the center of the room.
Although others probably couldn’t see it, Lark could tell that this old man wasn’t ordinary. Though he was skin and bones, he was clearly someone who’d been practicing martial arts for decades.
Someone like that should have mana flowing naturally from their body, but Lark couldn’t feel even a tinge of mana oozing from the old man at all.
It could only mean one thing—this person had reached the pinnacle of martial arts and mana control.
“Lark?”
“Sorry.”
He followed Vivienne to the center of the incense room, and both of them sat cross-legged before the old man.
“It’s you again,” the Seer said, his voice rough yet steady. “Back at my pavilion. Kek… kek… you have an odd sense of romance for a first date.”
Vivienne flushed red but didn’t seem surprised that he knew.
“It’s… his idea, though,” she muttered under her breath.
The old man grinned, showing several missing teeth. “You know the rules. There are two of you, but I can give a prophecy for only one.”
“Yes,” said the Princess. “Since he’s my guest, please give it to him.”
The Seer pointed a gnarled finger toward a small table by the wall.
Understanding the gesture, Vivienne rose, took out her coin pouch, and slipped exactly five silver coins into a narrow slit of a metallic box.
The Seer was as much a businessman as he was a prophet—payment first, prophecy second.
When she returned, he spoke again.
“Your fate is tangled in a web of chaos,” the Seer intoned. “I can offer you a glimpse of three paths—the start, the middle, and the end. Choose one.”
Lark fell silent for a moment.
If this man’s predictions were truly accurate, then choosing the end might grant him a vision of how the war against the demons would conclude.
Of course, that was assuming the Seer wasn’t a fraud.
But no. Lark doubted a man of such power would waste his life deceiving commoners. His aura was sharp, grounded, and ancient. Someone of this level might even rival Sword Saint Isaac Segarus of the Great Empire—perhaps surpassing him.
“I’ll choose the End,” said Lark.
“The third path. A wise choice.”
The room quieted. The rising incense smoke began to swirl as though drawn by invisible threads, flowing toward the Seer’s mouth.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then, his eyes opened. “A lakeside villa.”
Lark’s expression stiffened. He instantly understood what that meant.
“Two women. Three children.” The old man chuckled, his laughter airy and knowing. “Heh… heh… heh…”
He turned to the Princess. “Since you’re a regular, I’ll make an exception this time. Princess Vivienne.”
“…You knew?”
“How could I not?” His lips curved into a toothless grin. “Heh… heh… heh… In the future I saw, you were there. A clever woman like you should already grasp what that means.”
Vivienne instinctively glanced at Lark. The moment their eyes met, her face turned crimson, and she quickly looked away.
“Y-Y-You mean…”
“Yes,” the Seer said, his tone softening. “But remember—what I see is only one among countless paths. The future is not set in stone. Walk carefully. And young king…” His gaze turned sharp. “…cherish the life you’ve been given. Do not think all the world’s burdens are yours to carry.”
Lark’s heart skipped a beat.
The old man knew that this was his second life.
This man wasn’t a charlatan. He was a living mystery—perhaps even something beyond human.
No wonder the Empire coveted this person.
“And one last thing.”
As they rose to leave, the Seer offered one last cryptic message.
“The one who had shed its skin is a blade seeking its wielder. When you see it again, seek its aid.”
***
Princess Vivienne was clearly feeling awkward after hearing the Seer’s prediction about Lark.
She could no longer look him in the eye, and words kept getting stuck in her mouth.
Lark, on the other hand, didn’t think too much of the prediction. As the Seer said, the future was not set in stone and was simply one of the many possible paths in this life.
He was more concerned about the riddle the Seer left behind before they left the pavilion.
‘The one who’d shed its skin. What does that mean?’
Even now, Lark couldn’t understand what the old man meant.
The meaning of the riddle was probably something he would realize only once he was in that fateful moment. It was probably not something meant to be deciphered today.
Just when the princess was overthinking various embarrassing things about the future, the awkward atmosphere was broken when the night sky suddenly lit up.
Everyone, regardless of rank or status, stopped in their tracks to look up.
“Wow.”
“Fireworks!”
“But isn’t the festival supposed to be two months from now?”
The startled murmurs of the crowd filled the street as countless glowing flowers bloomed above the city. The explosions reflected in their eyes, painting the moment in fleeting hues of gold and crimson.
For a heartbeat, Princess Vivienne forgot all about the prophecy. Laughing softly, she reached out and instinctively took Lark’s hand, her fingers intertwining with his.
With her free hand, she pointed upward. “Look! So pretty!”
Lark looked at her instead of the fireworks.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Maybe because the fireworks were unexpected, but Lark thought that her smile shimmered brighter than the lights above.
Nearby, the Shadows who’d been following the princess—aware of her disguise—gave each other a thumbs-up.
Perfect timing!
As expected of King Gram!
All hail His Majesty!
What a wingman!
The fireworks went on and on, bursting as though the festival organizers had decided to empty every crate of pyrotechnics that night.
Princess Vivienne looked so happy strolling the streets that Lark didn’t feel the need to tell her that her hand was holding his.
It was only after they reached the Hayangji Club that Princess Vivienne realized they were holding hands. Before her mind went blank, Lark took the lead, and they went inside.
“Did you know,” said Lark, “Hayangji is quite popular in my country?”
The tabletop strategy game had been gaining even more popularity lately, primarily due to the fact that King Lark himself was an avid player of it.
For some strange reason, his subjects had become obsessed with things Lark was fond of.
If they found out that he loved a particular dessert, the taverns would immediately add it to their menus that same week.
And if he started wearing a particular garment, noblemen would start mimicking it to a certain degree.
Big Mona had even told him before that he’d become a trendsetter in the kingdom. According to the fat merchant, even members of High Society had been monitoring his actions and appearances, using them as standards during their meetings and tea parties.
Of course, Lark didn’t care about that.
“It’s popular here, too,” said Princess Vivienne. “We even have annual tournaments hosted by the royal family.”
“You must be skilled then, Vivienne,” said Lark.
The princess rubbed her nose smugly. “Heh, I’m not just skilled. I’m the best at this game!”
At first, Lark thought she was merely bragging, but after registering in the club and playing a game, he realized she was telling the truth.
‘What the hell. She’s so skilled at this.’
Surprisingly, her skills were comparable to the old man in the Republic of Everfrost.
Her every move was veiled with feints, and her every decision was calculated.
Lark thought he’d improved greatly since his humiliating defeat in the Republic, but fighting her, he realized he was still a newbie.
‘So, you can utilize the scouts that way.’
She even showed several moves that Lark had never thought of before. Some of her traps were so unconventional that Lark almost wanted her to become his mentor.
Although Lark struggled until his last piece, he was crushingly defeated by the princess.
“Again,” said Lark, his voice a bit competitive.
Princess Vivienne was clearly enjoying this.
After all, when would she have the chance to utterly destroy the renowned Lark Marcus? Once he unified the continent—if he ever had such thoughts—she could probably brag to everyone that she’d defeated him in Hayangji.
“Are you sure? I hope you don’t end up resenting me if you keep losing horribly,” she teased.
“You chose the first map. I’ll choose the next one.”
“Alright, alright~”
Aware that his opponent was capable of clever tricks, Lark chose the most straightforward map in the game—the Plains.
The number of traps and schemes she would be able to deploy should have been cut by more than half because of this move. But to Lark’s dismay, the outcome of the battle hardly changed at all.
In the end, he was utterly defeated by the princess.
“Haha! That was fun!” she said happily.
“Fun for you,” said Lark bitterly.
“Come on, smile. When you frown like that, you look like an old man,” said the princess.
“Again.”
“Hahaha, alright!”
The two had five more games after that. All ended with Lark’s loss.
By the time they were finished and went outside, the fireworks that had stopped half an hour ago lit up the sky again.
Crackle!
Whiz!
Boom!
The Shadows politely monitoring them from afar praised King Gram’s ingenuity.
Their master really had impeccable timing!
As expected! All hail King Gram!
Comments
Heavyarms670
Yeah , Barkuvara shed his skin , Lark will need his aid vs that POS from the Red Tower
Michael Kiamzon
Thank you Chilli!.....Slay 🪓
