Chapter Thirty-Eight: Irene

Looking at the red-haired woman before him, called Princess Irene, Qin Le didn’t even need to think to know who she was. He couldn’t help but marvel at how well the king’s children turned out; whether it was Olina or the woman in front of him, both possessed outstanding beauty. Yet their temperaments could not be more different. Olina was like the morning sun, exuding a sense of cheerfulness and warmth. In contrast, the woman before him resembled a sharpened longsword, her presence fierce and aggressively commanding.

At the same time, Qin Le deeply pitied the king’s failures. What had he done in his younger years to breed such a formidable brood of “Arthases”? Each was more “filial” than the last. Even the gentlest and kindest, Olina, wore a sour expression upon seeing him.

Captain Mark’s face was solemn as he intoned, “Princess Irene, please show His Majesty a little respect.”

“Hah!” Irene sneered coldly. “What about him is worthy of my respect? He’s nothing but scum who sent his daughter away to please the Empire. Teacher, after all these years, have you found a single thing about the old man that deserves respect?”

Mark replied in a deep voice, “The king had his reasons back then, and being born into royalty, enjoying its privileges, means bearing its costs.”

“Oh, please, Teacher, spare me that excuse.” Mockery and disdain grew ever more prominent on Irene’s striking face. “When I pacified the northern rebellion for the kingdom, crushed the alien tribes, and reclaimed a million miles of land, did the old man ever remember my achievements?”

Mark fell silent for a few seconds, unwilling to continue that topic. “Your Highness Princess Irene, have you returned today to participate in the royal selection?”

“Of course. The throne is mine for the taking,” Irene answered, her tone brimming with unyielding confidence and dominance. “I’ll show the old man what a true king is—not some coward who only plays political games with the lords and nobles. So, Teacher, does the Royal Knights’ Order still possess the strength to sweep the kingdom?”

“Yes,” Mark couldn’t help but nod. His pupil was as aggressive as ever, her sharpness undiminished by the years, but rather, even more formidable. Whether defying the king’s orders and pointing her sword at the throne, or the confidence and vigor she now displayed, she was every bit a qualified monarch.

Pity she had no hope anymore—if it weren’t for Olina and the people backing her, Mark might have broken the rules himself and led the Royal Knights to support his pupil.

Mark sighed inwardly. “But all of this depends on whether you can become king.”

“I will,” Irene affirmed, then turned her gaze to the black-haired human standing behind Mark.

She strode forward, a heroic smile lighting her cold features, and extended a scarred hand. “Hello, I am Irene.”

Qin Le did not hesitate. He shook her hand, feeling the roughness of her scars. “Hello, I’m Qin Le.”

Their handshake lasted only a few seconds before both released in tacit understanding, saying nothing more. Irene then took her elite companions and departed, the exchange seemingly no more than a matter of etiquette.

Once Princess Irene was gone, Mark wasted no time, leading Qin Le and his group toward the palace prepared for them.

At this time, the royal capital was overrun with factions, turbulent undercurrents swirling, all manner of people mingling. At present, the only safe place was the royal palace—provided the king harbored no ulterior motives. Right now, however, with his life depending on the Xuan Law team’s medical aid, the king would sooner venerate them than risk harm.

After the two parties had separated by dozens of meters, Irene halted and glanced back at those strangely dressed, black-haired humans.

“They are very dangerous,” she said.

Her companions looked puzzled at this pronouncement. The purple-haired mage asked, “Irene, their appearance is certainly mysterious, like something from legend. But their aura feels weak, all at the entry level. What’s so dangerous about them?”

The others nodded slightly. In their perception, these people only possessed the aura of beginners.

The masked assassin, his voice hoarse, said, “Their killing intent is intense. Their eyes are sharp—they have put their lives on the line.”

“Put their lives on the line? No way. They’re just entry-level transcendents; how could their will reach such a level?” the purple-haired mage protested.

Such willpower was something only most third-tier experts could barely achieve, and usually only among assassins, whose profession demanded repeated brushes with death. Yet the shadow master in their team claimed these ordinary people’s will was on par with his own.

“I recall that to reach a shadow master’s standard, one must endure at least a thousand life-and-death crises. Ordinary people are lucky to experience even a few in their lives. Where would they find a thousand?”

The masked assassin shook his head. “My senses do not lie. That aura of being reborn through death cannot be concealed or faked.”

The elite monster hunters exchanged uneasy glances. If the shadow master spoke the truth, then each of these newcomers was a slaughtering monster, a match for any shadow master. A dozen shadow masters together—there were few forces in the world who could muster such power.

A druid ventured, “Perhaps they carry something akin to a royal artifact, cloaking their true aura.”

“With a dozen shadow masters, they could assassinate any king,” the purple-haired mage remarked, her expression tinged with fear.

Assassins, being all offense and no defense, and wielding the power of shadows, often succeeded in killing enemies many times stronger than themselves. A single shadow master was enough to terrorize most people—a group of a dozen walking together was almost unimaginable.

The mage’s words sent a chill through the others as well.

“Especially their leader,” Irene said, her cold features now marked with a hint of curiosity. “What kind of experiences could forge eyes like that?”

...

Xuan Law, First Military District, inside a commandeered office building.

Personnel bustled about, clutching all sorts of documents. Renowned sociologists, psychologists, linguists, even zoologists from all over the country were gathered in one room, conducting an unprecedented experiment.

It was a project that had existed only in theory, never in practice—simulated personality and thought modeling.

Giant white sheets hung on the walls, images in black and white projected onto them.

[King of Dawn]

Due to prolonged use of a plant called Dreamleaf, which has strong hallucinogenic properties and harbors abundant tuberculosis bacteria, coupled with his advanced age, he now suffers from late-stage tuberculosis.

In his youth, he was notoriously licentious, led by primal desires, and of poor character. According to current information, the royal selection of his day was so chaotic that all the candidates apparently died in fierce conflict, leaving only the King of Dawn.

Under his reign, the kingdom’s territory shrank by a third over several decades, and the king lost real control over most of his domain...

The King of Dawn is not particularly shrewd, being lustful and cowardly. He is suitable for deep cooperation and exploitation. According to intelligence from the elf Aimoia, his power is third-tier, but with the Sword of Dawn he can reach fifth-tier. (Pending correction) [For details, see File No. 4]

[Sylia] First Prince of the Dawn Kingdom, lacking in talent, a formal second-tier knight, supported by most of the capital’s civil officials. Secretly suspected of colluding with a cult and plotting the assassination of Olina.

A black worm found at the assassin’s heart matches those from ghouls, suggesting that the organization likely worships Greed, one of the Seven Gods of Primal Desire.

An unstable element—recommend handling secretly or collecting evidence to expose publicly.

[Ginice] Sixth Princess, nominal head of the kingdom’s largest merchant guild, extremely proud and strong-willed, with commercial vision ahead of her time but lacking social experience.

Available information suggests she is being used by several key nobles and magnates in the guild.

Low threat, potentially useful.

[Airella of Dawn] Third Princess, currently the mainstream noble-backed candidate for the throne, supported by Duke Carter, the kingdom’s sole grand duke. Low danger, little value, can be ignored.

[Irene of Dawn] Second Princess, exceptionally talented in both birth and military affairs, domineering in temperament.

Ten years ago, she led the Royal Knights to quell domestic rebellion, fought north against the Kingdom of Kesian, and reclaimed a million miles of territory, earning immense prestige among the knights. Because her accomplishments threatened the king, she was forcibly betrothed to a prominent figure’s descendant from the Empire, intended to send her away from the kingdom.

This led to her rebellion; Irene fled the King of Dawn and became a monster hunter. She is now a fourth-tier Judicator Knight, leading a gold-ranked hunting party made up of upper third-tier professionals...

Countless pieces of intelligence were continuously incorporated into the thought models by the experts, fleshing out the personalities with every word and action or scrap of information collected.

The psychologists used their theories and practical knowledge to analyze what moves these figures might make next, compiling all probable actions.

A dozen leading Xuan Law psychologists, dark circles under their eyes, wearied but diligent, gathered the latest data and handed it to the waiting operatives.

“This is the latest simulation of the King of Dawn’s thought patterns. Given his mediocre disposition, once treatment shows initial success, he is highly likely to stand firmly on our side. The medical team is advised to manage the treatment’s efficacy and simply prolong his life.”

“Yes, sir.”

...

The next morning, the exploration team members sat in a lavishly decorated dining hall, attended by maids as they sampled the delicacies of the new world.

At that moment, Mark entered, clad in resplendent silver-white knight’s armor. “Gentlemen, the royal selection oath is about to begin. His Majesty requests your presence as witnesses.”