Fated to Be Loved by Villains-Chapter 325: Before the Ceremony (3)
“Always keep this in mind.”
Seras said, dead serious.
“No loud noises. Try not to be seen. Got it?”
“…”
“I know it might be hard for a barbarian like you, but at least try put in some effort.”
“…”
“Someone of your caliber should be quite good at moving your body, surely you can follow them quietly from a distance, right?”
Riru, surprisingly not showing any signs of anger, just followed them from behind with a dumbfounded expression.
She found the situation too ridiculous to get angry.
“…Why are you piggybacking her?”
In front of her was Victoria, riding on Seras’ back like a depressed sack of potatoes. She looked like she wanted to die right there and then.
Meanwhile, Seras acted as if this arrangement was perfectly normal.
“Victoria hasn’t fully mastered Shadow Step yet.”
Though carrying Victoria on her back significantly diminished her dignity, her voice was still filled with authority, as if proving that she didn’t earn the title of Grand Assassin by mere chance.
“At times like this when not even the slightest mistake can be tolerated, it’s easier to just carry her.”
“…Don’t you think this is overkill for just stalking one guy?”
“…”
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Using Shadow Step, a technique that could pretty much guarantee a successful assassination, to stalk a single man was indeed, excessive, to say the least.
Unable to come up with a good comeback, Seras remained silent.
“…Forget about that, move your legs. We can’t just leave Mr. Dowd hanging!”
Saying that, Seras strode forward.
Her skills in concealing her presence, even amidst the bustling crowd, was worthy of admiration. Unfortunately, a certain someone nearby possessed the ability to see right through such things.
“…You know, despite their bickering, those two seem rather close, wouldn’t you say?”
With an incredibly incredulous expression, the empress, sitting casually on the Sword Saint’s shoulder, commented while blowing out a long stream of smoke from her pipe.
Thanks to their ridiculous height difference, this posture didn’t look out of place at all.
The most impressive part here was how they managed to avoid attention despite taking up on such a conspicuous posture.
Partly because they stuck to back alleys, but the Sword Saint’s proficiency with barrier spells was likely the real reason for their anonymity.
“Your Majesty? May I know what you are talking about?”
“They act like they’re constantly at odds, but they always stick together whenever something’s up.”
“Perhaps it’s the case of ‘fighting breed affection’? It’s a shared understanding between martial artists.”
“Hmm. A sentiment I find difficult to grasp.”
“…If I may be frank, Your Majesty, your actions right now are equally baffling.”
The Sword Saint, Radu Alexander Varphon, glanced up at the empress on his shoulder.
“After being so thoroughly humiliated by that man, why would you seek him out aga—”
“—We agreed not to talk about that again, Radu.”
“…”
The Sword Saint clamped his mouth shut.
Years of being her glorified babysitter had taught him to discern the time when he should speak and when he should remain silent.
Her current chilling tone indicated the latter.
“…Anyway, you’ve asked me to tail that man, but…”
He scratched his head.
“What exactly is your plan, Your Majesty? If you only wish to observe him from afar, that’s just the same as spectating someone else’s pre-wedding party.”
“Indeed, you’re correct.”
The empress agreed with a solemn nod.
“That’s why our goal is to interfere.”
“…”
“I simply cannot stand to see their blissful state. I bet everyone here feels the same way.”
“…Your Majesty, with all due respect, but weren’t you and Lady Tristan the closest of friends?”
“Friendship is one thing; watching them be all lovey-dovey is another. It makes me want to puke.”
This is the empress who’s supposed to lead the Empire into the future?
Is the Empire really in safe hands?
As the Sword Saint pondered this deep, existential question, the empress’ voice cut through his thoughts again.
“Let’s start brainstorming. What could we do to royally piss off both Eleanor and Dowd—”
“—I’m the most pissed-off person here.”
Before the empress could continue…
Thunk.
The Sword Saint’s barrier was sliced apart like it was made of wet toilet paper.
“…”
“…”
Both the Sword Saint and the empress were startled, staring dumbfoundedly at the cleanly cut barrier.
The reason the Sword Saint didn’t immediately go apeshit was because he quickly realized there was no killing intent behind that blade.
“Even if you want to interfere, there’s a fucking line you have to follow! When you’ve got a bunch of Devil’s Vessels gathered in one place like some twisted convention like this, who the hell do you think is going to clean up the mess?! I’m already losing my goddamn mind cleaning up after you fucks in my territory—!”
In hindsight, him not reacting was probably the wisest decision.
While her blade might not possess any killing intent, her words were practically dripping with malice.
Iliya, who had just casually sliced through the Sword Saint’s barrier like it was made of cheese, stormed into the alley like she owned the place.
Behind her was Yuria and the saintess, clearly unconscious, being dragged around by her like sacks of potatoes.
“…Were those two here as well?”
“Of course. All the Devil’s Vessels are like moths to a flame when it comes to Teach. Wherever he goes, they follow.”
“…”
Indeed.
Considering the empress herself was here, she wasn’t entirely wrong.
“…Hold up, aren’t you here to mess with Eleanor too? Why are you being so violent—”
“Because it looked like you guys were about to cause another incident, and I’d be the one who’d have to clean it up.”
“…”
“You guys never give a shit about the consequences of your little stunts, do you?”
“…”
“…”
Hearing her words, the Sword Saint and the empress shut their mouths simultaneously.
●
“…You know, I’m supposedly one of you, but…”
Iliya, feeling a strange sense of kinship in this circus, spoke up, sounding utterly done with this shit.
“None of you give a damn about respecting others, do you?”
“…”
“…”
The assembled women exchanged glances.
The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. After a silence that felt like an old wild west standoff, Faenol, who apparently had the thickest skin of the bunch, finally broke the ice.
“Are we not thinking the same thing?”
“Huh?”
“After hearing about all this wedding bullshit, don’t you all want to knock that smug bastard down a peg or two?”
The intensity of their shared gaze intensified.
The atmosphere crackled with tension—it wouldn’t have been surprising if the air itself exploded.
“U-Um! Please don’t fight too much…!”
Yuria, the most pacifist one among them, opened her mouth to speak, but Riru cut off with a sigh.
“You say that, but you’re already out here even though it’s someone else’s ‘turn’.”
“…”
“If you don’t want to fight, then scram. I’ll take that guy for myself.”
Yuria’s mouth snapped shut.
Her peacemaking facade crumbled, replaced by a glint of fighting spirit in her eyes.
Well, well, well…
Iliya inwardly snorted at how quickly the most docile one among them turned feral.
Indeed, it was always the quiet ones that one had to watch out for.
Though in this case, everyone here wasn’t just looking to climb to the top—they were ready to claw, bite, and kill to stay there permanently.
“…Looks like our target’s starting to catch on.”
Riru grinned ferociously while eyeing Eleanor, who kept glancing their way repeatedly.
She seemed to have noticed the stalkers and was already cooking up something of her own.
“…I bet the little princess thinks she’s already won. Bitch probably thinks that we’re here to gawk at her victory or some shit.”
“—Now that’s interesting.”
As Faenol said those words with a smile, everyone present showed a similar reaction.
Oho, so that’s how you want to play this game?
“From now on, we’ll all get a fair shot.”
The empress spoke up with a grin.
“Whoever messes with them the most gets to fight for that man fair and square. Got it?”
‘May the best woman win.’
‘Don’t come crying later when you lose.’
‘…Why the fuck are these people so smug when planning about backstabbing someone?’
Iliya’s bewilderment swirled around in her /genesisforsaken
