Chương 14: White Snake

It was fast. In fact, it was far too fast—so fast that the air itself seemed to lag behind the movement. One heartbeat, Cassion stood tall—broad, imposing, and armored in thick muscle and royal pride. The next breath, his massive body folded like a felled oak. Without a single soul noticing the motion, Noa had already closed the distance and struck. The impact did not echo loudly, nor did it detonate with dramatic shockwaves. It was just a single, casual punch.

And yet, Cassion collapsed, instantly losing consciousness. As a warrior myself, even if I could not react in time, I should have at least seen it. King Roswell's pupils constricted into pinpricks. Yet, I saw no footsteps at all. He scanned the pavilion, finding everyone frozen in an identical state of shock. Alena was catching Cassion in her arms, the heavy knights blinked in sheer disbelief, and Cornelius went rigid, instantly bracing himself for whatever might happen next. Well… almost everyone.

There was a single exception who smiled. Vionette…! Roswell saw it clearly. Behind the hands she had lifted to her lips in feigned fear, beneath that porcelain mask of fragility, was the distinct curve of a malicious smile—like a white serpent coiled beneath fine silk. In that instant, Roswell finally identified the nameless unease that had been gnawing at his gut since their arrival. The white snake was right in front of me the entire time. He lowered his chin, a bead of cold sweat forming on his brow.

I doubted her earlier claim that she was merely passing through, yet I chose to believe it—because the Vionette I remember was composed, restrained, and politically sharp, but not… this. His gaze then shifted back to Noa, who was walking back toward Vionette's side. That man… That was just a normal punch, yet it carried enough raw force to knock out an aura user in a single blow. He looked at the pair, a thread of fear creeping down his spine like cold water poured beneath his attire.

The sword and the pen working in synchronization… This is dangerous.

"Lord Cassion?!"

"Cassion!" While Roswell was lost in his own thoughts, the garden erupted into a chaotic din of voices. Cassion's knights and Alena rushed forward in a panic. One guard caught the prince's massive body before it could slump completely into the dirt, visibly straining under the sheer weight. Two others frantically tried shaking him awake. The remaining knights drew their swords, pointing the glittering blades directly toward Noa as they formed a defensive wall.

Steel sang sharply from scabbards—not out of loyalty, but driven entirely by the instinct for survival. Their movements were disciplined, but their eyes betrayed them; they weren't protecting a beloved leader, they were protecting their own necks, knowing full well that if Cassion died under their watch, their futures would perish with him.

"Don't worry, don't worry~" Noa waved the exact same hand that had just folded a royal prince like laundry.

"I didn't kill him… for now. Just knocked him out cold," he offered in a light, almost helpful tone. Why hadn't he killed Cassion on the spot? Was it because he was a prince? No. It was because— A few hours earlier, The road had been remarkably quiet then. Dusk bled rich gold across the horizon as Noa and Vionette walked side by side, the fallen leaves whispering in the wind like conspirators.

"…Why?" Noa had asked, watching her profile. Vionette quickened her pace, her white hair fluttering behind her like a pale banner. She swept past him, then turned on her heel, walking backward while pressing a finger across her lips.

"It's a secret~" she whispered playfully.

"…" As Noa closed the distance between them, she spun back around, her voice softening.

"You just have to say, 'It's getting late,' the moment you sense someone who can use aura approaching us with a squad of soldiers."

"Uh-huh?" At the time, the instruction made absolutely no sense to Noa, which was precisely why he didn't press for details. To him, mysteries were always far more entertaining when they solved themselves naturally.

"And if someone tries to strike me," she had added lightly, "please don't kill him."

"Are they really that useful?"

"Mmm-hmm," she had nodded, looking exactly like a thoroughly satisfied cat. I don't really get shit, but I'll try to remember.

Present,"You—! Who do you think you are?!" Alena's voice cracked like brittle glass as she screamed at Noa. Perhaps your pride was hurt, huh, daughter of Duke Geties? Vionette thought, finally lowering her hands to reveal her smile. Or perhaps, seeing her precious fiancé collapse so effortlessly wounded something far deeper… like her own sense of superiority? Noa had already turned away to walk back to Vionette, but the woman's shout pulled him back.

He slowly faced her once more, his eyes narrowing as a humorless curve pulled at his lips.

"What?" he sneered, tilting his chin upward in blatant defiance.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, then?"

"I am the daughter of Duk—""Oh, shut up with the 'I'm this, I'm that' routine." Noa mocked her, moving his hands dramatically before flashing a cold smile.

"Your titles won't stop you from bleeding out. You're just a walking corpse to me." To Noa, that statement was nothing but the truth. He could end her life in less than ten seconds. To him, she was like a stray mosquito that was only allowed to sip blood because it hadn't yet become annoying enough to swat. If every single knight present gathered to fight me to the death—yes, they could eventually kill me. But...

'Don't worry, no one will interfere as long as you don't go overboard.' Those were the exact words of Vionette's that he held onto. He trusted her judgment more than anyone else's. Because her very life was tied directly to his, because she believed in his power even more than he did… because they were partners. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. On Cassion's side, however, that trust simply did not exist.

'What, am I supposed to die for this muscle-head?' was likely what the knights' hearts whispered in the dark. It wasn't because Cassion was arrogant—anyone, especially people like Vionette or Noa, could be insufferably arrogant. It wasn't because he aggressively stirred up conflict—such blunders could always be repaired. It was fundamentally because those soldiers had never known true 'faith.' They have served strength. They have served high status. They have served a gold crown. But, they have never served faith.

Vionette's crimson eyes rested on the visibly shaking knights. Hope is born from faith, and faith can only take root in something that has proven worthy of belief. This is the difference between you and me, Cassion. Even now, by proving her words from earlier correct, she was actively reinforcing Noa's faith in her. Faith for him to continue believing in her words. Faith proving that every single one of their moves was deliberate. Faith so that 'hope' could naturally coexist.

"You're the ones who attacked first, right? If you can throw a punch, we can throw one too." Turning toward King Roswell with a confident smirk, Noa added, "Isn't that right, Your Majesty~?" Roswell stared at him as time seemed to actively stretch out. He had already forced his outward expression back into a mask of pure calm, exactly as he always did when navigating high-stakes politics. If this scales up any further, Eryndor's reputation will shatter. And...

He shifted his gaze to Vionette, who was smiling serenely back at him. Even if I say 'no'… that white snake has undoubtedly already prepared a countermeasure for that. He took a deep breath, straightening his posture before addressing the crowd.

"Of course. I shall pass judgment on what occurred here as the ruler of this land," he declared, his voice ringing high with royal authority.

"It was partly my own oversight for failing to prevent this friction beforehand. Because we cannot blame anyone here but ourselves, I ask all of you present to strike today's events from memory and retreat." I cannot involve Lythoria in the messy affairs of external kingdoms; I cannot openly condemn Aurelyth because their prince was the one who took the physical blow; and I cannot blame Crimvane because they merely defended themselves. His eyes narrowed, meticulously calculating the remaining options.

The setup is too perfect, leaving me with no choice but to prioritize political survival.

"B-but… look at Cassi—" Alena muttered, her voice cracking not out of genuine care for her fiancé, but from the agony of her collapsing pride.

"We have no objections!" Noa cut in cheerfully, completely ignoring Alena's protests. He glanced back at Vionette with a faint, amused sneer.

"Isn't that right?"

"Yes, that's right~" she answered sweetly. Two minds, moving in one direction. Alena stared at the pair, unadulterated fury blazing hot in her eyes, while the heavy knights carefully hoisted Cassion's limp form and began their hasty withdrawal, their armored boots echoing hollowly down the stone corridor.

"Well, see ya!" Noa waved casually.

"So long," Vionette added with polite mock-courtesy. They departed the area as smoothly as if they were leaving a casual evening banquet, quietly escorted out by Cornelius while the suffocating tension behind them lingered in the air like thick smoke. … The night air was refreshing, cooling the skin in a welcome breeze. They walked down the quiet castle road, brilliant moonlight spilling liquid silver across the neatly trimmed hedges and pristine marble paths.

"I got the guts," Noa said as they strolled, casting a sideways glance at her, "but it's still not filling up."

"Mmmm~?" Vionette closed one eye, giving him a teasing side-look.

"Explanation, please!" he hissed dramatically, his tone loud enough to earn a judging look from a passing bird. She let out a soft sigh, tilting her head up toward a sky where stars were scattered like spilled diamonds across a backdrop of black velvet, a breath of soft laughter escaping her lips.

"No one can make information out of thin air," she said gently.

"It's understandable."

"So…?"

"A few years ago, after Crimvane fell… though for different reasons, Aurelyth also fell, making the two kingdoms stand as equals." The ghost of a memory flickered behind her eyes.

"Really? Was that just a coincidence?" Noa asked, suddenly turning his head fully toward her.

"Who knows? And who cares if it was written or meant to be? We just have to do whatever the hell we want—that's all that matters," she replied, a faint smile gracing her face.

"In any case, if we wish to start a war for our further growth, Aurelyth is the most optimal target. And I'm certain they think the same thing about us."

"But why specifically focus on Crimvane? Aren't there any other low-level kingdoms around?"

"Well, Crimvane's territory is the most fertile land in the northern region. Before the kingdom fell, it was named The Blessed Kingdom for that property." Noa nodded slowly, processing the layout.

"So if they manage to conquer it, they instantly rise in power?"

"Exactly."

"Just off growing food?"

"It's not merely about the crops," she said, shaking her head firmly.

"Even though Crimvane is called The Cursed Kingdom now after my father's fall… conquering a so-called 'cursed land' would grant them massive religious legitimacy."

"They really like roleplaying, huh?" Noa grumbled, looking down as his jaw clenched tightly.

"Fuck religious legitimacy. They tried to touch what belongs to me, and I will make them pay for it someday."

"You truly treasure that kid a lot, don't you?" she noted softly, studying his profile.

"Anyway, Aurelyth has rich mineral veins and a highly advanced military industry. If we seize Aurelyth, we gain economic leverage and significantly strengthen our own standing army… though the battle will be in hell difficulty with them holding those advantages."

"Okay, hold up!" Noa slapped a palm flat over his face, extending his other hand outward to stop her train of thought.

"What about Eryndor, then? Didn't we have to cross through Aurelyth just to arrive here in Eryndor?"

"Yep. The only route to Eryndor is directly through Aurelyth, and the only route to Crimvane is directly through Eryndor. All the other routes are dangerous af." She briefly imagined the nightmare of getting ambushed by monsters in the forests.

"Eryndor doesn't have much of an actual military; they solely operate on global trading and political influence."

"So if we take down Aurelyth… we surround Eryndor on all sides. We seize control over both their input and output trade routes, making them unable to trade without our permission."

"You got it, Blackie!" Vionette winked playfully, snapping her fingers at him.

"Aurelyth has been plotting an invasion against us for nearly five years now, and they are finally starting to make their move. So—oh, look! It's them again." They had already arrived back at the massive silver castle gates. Standing near the perimeter, the four gatekeepers from earlier stood rigid, their postures so unnaturally stiff it bordered on the comedic.

"That's her, right?" one whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"Yeah."

"Shut your mouth and stand straight!"

"…" The short-tempered guard remained entirely silent. As they watched the pair close the distance, the two royals approached openly, casually waving their hands as if greeting an old friend.

"Yo! How are you guys holding up?" Vionette called out. The guards nearly snapped their own spines in their frantic rush to execute a deep bow.

"We are honored to speak with you again, Your Majesty!"

"Please have safe and peaceful travels!"

"…" They hurriedly opened the heavy iron gates while vocalizing their sudden appreciation, the short-tempered guard still maintaining his quiet vigil. But just as Noa and Vionette stepped through the threshold—"Your Majesty… Princess Vionette." Vionette paused and turned around, only to find the previously hot-headed guard bowing deeply toward her, his clenched fist placed firmly over his heart.

"I deeply apologize for my behavior from before. If… if I am ever granted the honor to repay the kindness you have shown us today," he said, rising from his bow with a smile lighting up his face, "I would be truly overjoyed." It was a genuine vow. To Vionette, sparing them had been an unbothered gesture; but to him, it was a salvation he didn't deserve. To Vionette, his rudeness had been a minor insult, but to him, his entire family's lives rested on mistakes no larger than a single misplaced word.

I have seen many cold, prideful royals before… but you… I can see the difference, Your Majesty. The guard thought, staring intently at the majestic figure before him. A royal who willingly walks on the same dusty ground as us commoners, speaking to us so casually like a close friend, entirely unbothered by rigid royal imagery while still remaining so commanding and majestic.

"Ah… right, okay," Vionette replied flatly, entirely confused.

"Make sure to repay it… I guess? Cya!" With a casual wave of her pale hand, she turned back into the darkness. They strolled out into the cool night, leaving the starstruck guards firmly trapped in their own grand misunderstanding—a beautiful lie they would choose to believe even if the cold truth stared them directly in the face. …

"I think I just caused a whole ahh plot back there," Vionette said as they hit the main road, "but anyway, what I was trynna tell you was that we've noticed movements of Aurelyth preparing for a war. And if Crimvane and Aurelyth go to war," she raised two fingers in the air, "Eryndor is going to have to choose a side—either stand with us… or die alongside Aurelyth." The biting night wind caught her white hair, lifting it into the air as her expression hardened just a fraction.

A fleeting shadow of cold wrath—the phantom of a memory not yet spoken aloud—flashed dark across her eyes.

"The latter would be a bit hard, but, I don't mind." Noa continued staring at her profile as they walked, assuming that her sheer confidence was his power.

"Aurelyth should start the war about six or seven months from now, but we cannot wait that long! Our kingdom's money is running out, which means I can't buy new clothes or have any fun!" She shed dramatic tears for a brief moment before instantly returning to a sly smile.

"I received info through Nymira earlier that Cassion was coming here, to Eryndor. So, that's why we came here—to plant a little 'seed of anger' to make things move a little faster, while also leaving a good impression on King Roswell as a nice bonus."

"Ah-ha… now that was a long-ass explanation," Noa muttered, staring back at her with a deadpan expression. The board had been set, the pieces had moved, and somewhere out there in the dark, unseen— The war had already begun.