In the misty bath, droplets glistened on the empress's skin like scattered diamonds.
As her long legs stepped forward, ripples spread across the water.
Her wet black hair clung to her snow-white back, droplets trailing from her hairtips—sliding down the curve of her waist, over the full arc of her hips.
Her chest swayed slightly with each step—firm, elastic. Certain things teased through the steam.
A droplet traced her collarbone, flowed over her flat abdomen, and vanished into the shadowed depths below.
Elizabeth remained calm, unashamed, unangry—no hint of modesty.
This was her character.
Black's breath froze.
He never expected Elizabeth to walk toward him—completely exposed!
If his nose was about to bleed before—seeing her next move made him suck the blood back in.
Elizabeth raised her sword at Black.
!
All romantic thoughts vanished—replaced by sheer panic.
Even though she lifted it gently, he felt—when this blade fell, the heavens and earth would split in two!
This wasn't fair! In just minutes, Death's scythe had hovered over his neck three times!
Time to remove the mask!
No holding back. He'd reveal himself—maybe, just maybe, Elizabeth would spare him for his earlier intel.
But as his hand reached for the mask—darkness.
The world plunged into an eerie void.
All light—gone.
All sound—silenced.
Time slowed—nearly frozen.
Black saw nothing. Heard nothing.
It felt like standing at the edge of the universe—beyond life and death.
Luckily, his body was still—but his mind remained.
This was [Thousand Nights' Dominion · Shadow Prison].
He realized—Loyre had successfully activated her Emperor-Tier Assassin Divine Edict!
In a way—it saved him.
But Black wasn't optimistic.
Yes, the edict was incredibly powerful.
But against a stronger Emperor-Tier Swordsman?
It might not be enough.
Sure enough—instantly—a sliver of light appeared.
Like the first ray of dawn breaking through night.
It was Elizabeth.
She glowed—radiant, pure—sword qi swirling around her, shattering the darkness.
Time was frozen—yet she moved freely.
The domain had zero effect on her.
Even among Emperor-Tiers—there were differences.
Elizabeth remained calm, as if the domain was just a light switch.
She raised her sword again.
It hummed—its target now shifting from Black to the assassin's domain itself.
Whoosh!
The blade cut downward—a simple, plain slash.
The white sword qi pierced the darkness—like the first sunbeam splitting night.
Whoosh!
Wind roared.
The bathwater split in half.
The wall between the bathroom and bedroom—cut clean through.
Black thought: If the empress held back, the entire Hodir might've been sliced in two.
The darkness shattered.
Light returned.
Freedom restored.
He turned to the bedroom—desperate to know the outcome.
What he saw—ruins.
Jiaye knelt on one knee—clothes torn, covered in knife slashes.
Her silver barrier—gone.
Even an S-rarity item couldn't withstand an Emperor-Tier Divine Edict.
She spat more blood—left hand clutching her abdomen.
Black looked closer—blood poured from a deep wound, like a dagger had stabbed her.
Yet—she still hadn't surrendered the Avalon Token.
No pain on her face—only a fierce glare at Loyre.
Truly the protagonist—unbreakable.
In contrast, Loyre's expression was panicked.
She thought—once the domain activated, she'd be invincible.
Even Elizabeth would need time to break free.
But—a single white sword qi shattered her domain.
Her last trump card—gone.
This was a true Emperor-Tier Swordsman's power.
And the one who wielded it? Obvious.
A self-mocking smile spread across Loyre's face.
She laughed at herself—laughed at how all her effort, all her borrowed power, was just a paper tiger.
She had the title of Emperor-Tier Assassin—but was nowhere near the real thing.
This gap—she could never bridge it.
"Ha! Hahaha! HAHAHAHA!"
Ignoring the others, Loyre burst into laughter—filled with despair.
A tear slid down her cheek.
She felt helpless.
Worthless.
An Emperor-Tier Assassin—unable to kill a Level 40 Sorceress.
No match for a true master.
With this strength—how could she avenge her family?
Avenge her dead sister?
But even so—she'd bet her life on killing Elizabeth.
If she failed—at least wound her!
She never planned to survive.
"Elizabeth! The dead have come for revenge!"
Loyre wiped her tears—her dark red hair flying—killing intent blazing.
A feral, desperate rage surged from her—like a dying wolf's final lunge!
"Fate Annihilation!"
Her Stellar Blade turned crimson—a thick blood scent flooded the area.
Even the bathwater turned red—thick as blood!
[Fate Annihilation] was the Assassin's ultimate attack—beyond even Divine Edicts.
More destructive than [Shadow Prison].
In a flash—she vanished—faster than light—reappearing behind Elizabeth, stabbing at her heart with pure hatred!
Ultimate killing intent!
Ultimate bloodlust!
In a fair fight—this level of willpower could make her invincible.
But this wasn't fair.
Their power levels were nowhere close.
Black didn't see Loyre's movement—but he knew the outcome.
"Ding!"
A crisp, effortless sound—like crushing a pebble.
At that moment, Black and Jiaye understood—even among peers, there are gaps.
Loyre's ultimate strike—delivered with her entire being—was effortlessly caught by Elizabeth.
That dagger, capable of piercing anything in the world, was stopped not by a sword—but by two fingers.
Not blocked.
Clamped between two slender fingers.
Some people's worldview shattered.
Her all-or-nothing attack—dismissed like a child's toy.
This mocked everything she'd sacrificed.
Her revenge plan? A joke from the start.
As Loyre braced for Elizabeth to drive a blade into her heart—the empress did something unexpected.
Something that stunned even Black and Jiaye—the observers.
The moment Elizabeth saw Loyre's face—her demeanor changed.
She didn't attack.
Instead, her naked body trembled slightly, her expression shifting to shock, her eyes locking onto Loyre with complexity beyond words.
For a fleeting moment—she wasn't the empress of an empire.
She was a gentle aunt, seeing her long-lost friend's daughter.
"Karin… So it's you… Thank the gods… You're alive…"
Elizabeth—this Emperor-Tier Swordsman—spoke as if every word cost her all her strength.
Her voice trembled—filled with emotion, yet soft, afraid to frighten this girl before her.
During the White Pearl's attack, Loyre had worn a mask—and Elizabeth hadn't deemed them worth attention.
She hadn't recognized her.
Never did she expect—Loyre would appear in her chamber, power boosted to Emperor-Tier Assassin—here to assassinate her.
"Yes! I'm alive—and here to avenge my family!"
Elizabeth's reaction meant nothing to Loyre.
All she saw was the woman who murdered her father, her sister, her entire family!
"Godslayer Blade Art!"
Another Emperor-Tier Assassin skill activated!
Ten phantom daggers split from the original—each capable of instantly killing a Level 60 Swordsman!
Ten Stellar Blades surged toward Elizabeth at once!
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Yet, despite their terrifying momentum—none could reach her.
Repelled by the sword qi swirling around her body!
"The truth… isn't what you think!"
Elizabeth looked at the girl—tears of blood streaming down her face, eyes filled only with hatred—and her heart ached.
"Not like that?! Then what is it?! You hypocrite!"
Blinded by vengeance, Loyre couldn't hear a word.
"Dragon-Slaying Break!"
She unleashed one high-tier skill after another—stabbing again and again—ignoring her body's breaking point.
"…That incident… is far more complex than you know. I can't tell you now. Please, calm down… Auntie will explain everything later!"
Elizabeth merely raised her hand—deflecting, retreating—refusing to counterattack.
The von Braun family's tragedy involved a critical secret about the war between humans and dragons—a secret too dangerous to reveal.
But Loyre couldn't understand.
She saw only excuses.
Two Emperor-Tier masters clashed—yet Black and Jiaye stood dumbfounded.
One attacking wildly, the other retreating gently.
Their relationship? Far deeper than anyone imagined.
"I don't want your lies!"
Loyre's body showed clear signs of collapse—bloody tears flowing endlessly.
Forcing Emperor-Tier power through a fragile body—pushing herself to the brink.
In Cassel Continent's history, countless had died—bodies exploding—from overusing scroll-boosted power.
That Loyre lasted this long? A miracle.
Elizabeth—the empress who ordered nine-family exterminations without blinking—now looked anxious, desperate, watching Loyre's crumbling form.
Her feelings for Loyre were complicated.
She owed her so much.
Owed the von Braun family so much.
Though the imperial family didn't directly slaughter them—their actions led to it.
After the massacre, of the 300+ bodies found—only Loyre's was missing.
Elizabeth sent search parties—hoping against hope—that Karin still lived.
No trace.
Even now, she remembered—over ten years ago, on a quiet, sunny morning—when she first held this infant girl in her arms.
Back then, Elizabeth never imagined—this baby cooing in her embrace—would one day draw a blade against her.
She couldn't let Karin die from self-destruction.
Not even if it cost her everything.
The battle reached a stalemate—one side raging, the other retreating.
But for the observers—a perfect chance to escape.
Jiaye acted instantly.
Clutching her wound, she [Divine Flash]-ed repeatedly—vanishing into the wardrobe passage.
Black followed—events had spiraled beyond his control.
Staying served no purpose.
But as he entered the tunnel—he glanced back.
And froze.
His lingering questions—finally answered.
Cornered, Elizabeth finally stopped retreating.
Black braced—sure the empress would strike.
Then—everything changed.
Elizabeth dispersed her surrounding sword qi—dropping her defense completely.
She stood still—letting Loyre's dagger plunge straight into her chest.
Instantly, her once-rosy cheeks turned deathly pale—all color drained.
Even an Emperor-Tier Swordsman couldn't withstand such a blow—without defense.
Loyre stared at her blood-soaked hands—frozen.
She never expected her enemy to accept the killing blow.
"L-Linlin… Auntie… is sorry…"
Elizabeth's lips bled—her body leaning forward, gently embracing Loyre—whispering those words.
"Linlin."
Loyre's childhood nickname.
Only her parents had ever used it.
Hearing it from her enemy's mouth?
It struck her like a thunderbolt.
Her body swayed—tears flooding uncontrollably.
Her face lost all blood—her aura crashing—from Emperor-Tier Assassin back to Mid-Tier Sorceress.
Her collapsing body—finally stabilized.
Overcome by mental and physical exhaustion—she fainted.
Watching this, Black understood.
This was the hidden scene the game never showed.
In the game—just a line: "The empress was gravely wounded by an assassin."
A mystery—not resolved until the sequel.
His earlier guess had been completely correct!
He just never expected the process to be this twisted!
In a way, his involvement had created many variables—but overall, the plot still followed the game's main path.
A stroke of luck in this mess.
"Mother!"
Alice burst through the rubble blocking the bedroom door—rushing in.
The chaotic scene stunned even this usually decisive girl.
But when she saw her most admired mother, pale and weakly clutching her abdomen—Alice's world nearly shattered.
Then—fury erupted.
That girl, collapsed before her mother, hands covered in blood—was clearly the assassin!
Who else?!
Her perception spread—locking onto Black's position.
Without looking, she hurled her red longsword!
It screamed through the air—BOOM!—obliterating an entire row of wardrobes!
Luckily, Black had expected it—already deep into the passage!
"Don't think you can escape!"
Alice dashed forward, grabbing her sword—about to pursue—when Black vanished from sight.
The tunnel was long, winding, narrow.
Impossible to chase.
"Damn it!"
Watching the masked man vanish, Alice clenched her lips—furious, humiliated.
But she'd memorized his build.
She'd hunt him down later on the Hodir.
Now—her mother's safety came first.
With that thought, Alice rushed with Lucy to check Elizabeth's wounds.
"Get a healer—now!"
Lucy barked orders—maids scattering.
"Lucy… seal this. No one speaks of my injury. If word spreads—execute them."
Elizabeth forced out the words.
"Yes!"
And so, in the near-ruined chamber—chaos reigned.
Every maid and healer who knew—sworn to silence.
Leak the truth? Death.
****
Several days later—dawn.
On the Hodir's deck, a furious roar echoed—like a tigress enraged.
"Where is he?! Where's Black?! That lazy deck cleaner?!"
Housekeeper Mary screamed at a male laborer.
"I—I don't know! Maybe he's hiding, slacking off again?!"
The poor man was near tears. How should he know where the pirate went?
"You're driving me mad!"
Mary, the empire's most experienced household manager, prided herself on zero tolerance for laziness.
She'd even awarded herself the title "Master of Human Resource Management."
But now—her reputation hung by a thread.
That deck cleaner had skipped work for three days straight!
No notice. No leave. No approval.
Mary felt her authority under unprecedented attack.
She'd drag Black out—and make him clean every deck on the entire royal fleet!
Not a speck of dust allowed!
Far away, inside a hidden storage room, Black listened—heart pounding.
Why did this housekeeper feel more oppressive than the empress?!
For days, he'd hidden here—recovering.
Loyre's casual strikes had nearly sent him to the afterlife.
For days, Black suffered—bones nearly shattered, organs displaced.
But—he'd played the game.
He knew where the Hodir hid rare herbs.
After consuming them—his body recovered fast.
Now, almost fully healed.
Yet facing Mary's raging fury?
He didn't want to move.
If possible—he'd stay here forever.
As expected, the battle in the empress's chamber had been sealed.
Black understood.
With war looming—against Jörmungandr—the empress severely wounded?
Morale would collapse.
So the news was suppressed.
But not perfectly.
Loyre's Divine Edict—[Thousand Nights' Dominion]—had covered the entire royal fleet.
Everyone felt its effect.
Anyone with half a brain knew: only an Emperor-Tier Assassin could unleash such power.
Why use it on the Hodir?
Confusing—but combine it with the empress's disappearance?
Obvious.
The assassin came for her.
So rumors spread in whispers—a creeping dread among the crew.
Their enemy? The dragons—the oldest, strongest race.
If the empress fell—would the entire fleet be doomed?
Sigh.
Black's body no longer hurt—his head did.
Loyre's actions had wounded the empress, sparked fear—drastically lowering the chance of a good ending.
And now—the Dragonblood Council was still plotting.
At this point—he had to sabotage their plans.
If he could disrupt them, the path to victory remained open.
The Dragonblood Council was hidden aboard the Hodir—in disguise.
Some as nobles. Some as servants. Some as Dragoncleaver Guards.
To a player like Black—their disguises were useless.
He remembered exactly who they pretended to be.
And he already had a plan.
He couldn't fight them.
Only use information gaps to ruin their schemes.
But—these weren't ordinary enemies.
If they grew suspicious during contact—he'd be silenced permanently.
Sigh.
Another sigh.
Since arriving in this world—he walked on blades.
One mistake—death.
Come to think of it—he hadn't seen Jiaye in days.
She'd escaped first—no one suspected her.
But her injuries were severe—an Emperor-Tier Assassin's strike.
She must be healing in her room.
Still—Black wasn't worried about her recovery.
Or that this main character would die mid-story like "a ruler who started great things but died too soon."
The reason was simple—Jiaye was the protagonist!
And protagonists? They were cockroaches that couldn't die!
Forget her absurd luck—just look at what she had now:
A mountain of legendary treasures, divine pills, and mystic herbs.
With these, healing wasn't a question—it was just a matter of time.
In fact, Black thought Jiaye's injury was worth it.
Yes, she was hurt—but in that chamber, she'd seized two god-tier artifacts!
[Solaris Orb] and [Avalon Token]!
These two items would skyrocket her power.
Black didn't even feel jealous.
He was happy.
Jiaye was a key force against the final boss—the stronger, the better.
Thinking this, he pulled out the Violet-Gold Dragonbone wrapped in black cloth.
After removing the cloth, he stared at the bone—glowing faintly, its patterns shimmering as if echoing with distant dragon roars.
One could only imagine how terrifying this Jade Dragon had been in life.
Such a resilient material—an SSS-rarity—should be forged into a 6-star weapon to fulfill its purpose.
But alas—this bone wouldn't become a weapon.
It would humbly serve as a fishing rod.
[Create Golden Fishing Rod from Violet-Gold Dragonbone?]
Black tapped Confirm.
A flash of light—and the bone transformed into a pure golden fishing rod.
"Why does it look so… unimpressive?"
This golden fishing rod looked exactly like the ones he'd used back on Earth—just gold-plated.
[Skill: Never Returns Empty-Handed Fisherman – Ready to activate at any time]
But no matter.
As long as it could yank Jörmungandr out of the sea, the dragonbone wouldn't go to waste.
After finishing preparations, Black lay back—hand in pocket—about to nap—when he felt something off.
His fingers touched something soft.
He pulled it out—a black lace undergarment.
Wait—wasn't this from Elizabeth's wardrobe?! How did it get in my pocket?!
He wanted to yell: "Who put this here?! Is this some kind of moral test?!"
He was a gentleman—upright and pure—surely he didn't sneak it in himself?
He raised his hand—ready to toss it into the trash—but couldn't let go.
Huh? Why is this underwear so sticky?!
Sigh.
Fine. He'd return it when he had the chance… though that seemed impossible.
Might as well keep it as a souvenir from his village days!
Just a souvenir—definitely not for perverted reasons.
Convincing himself, Black shoved the lace underwear back into his pocket.
Staring at the ceiling, he decided it was time to go outside and gather intel.
His wounds were healed. Time to rejoin the world.
Sure, Housekeeper Mary was terrifying—but she wouldn't throw him to the sea dragons, right?
So, with false confidence, Black left the room—stepping onto the deck—right into Mary's line of sight.
Moments later, the entire Hodir echoed with Mary's screeching and Black's wails.
Hss…
After Mary finally stopped yelling, Black's ears were blessedly quiet.
He'd underestimated this housekeeper's cruelty.
Her punishment?
Clean the deck for three nights straight!
Drink only seawater!
Eat only herring cans!
Damn it! If it weren't for his dream of returning to the village and living peacefully, he'd throw this tigress into the sea for the dragons!
Grumbling, Black scrubbed the deck.
After three hours, he finally got a break.
That's when idle chatter from a group of maids reached his ears—four words catching his attention.
He instantly perked up.
"You know? In a few days, we're having the Azure Ball!"
"Really? A ball during such a tense time?"
"Absolutely true! I heard it from the housekeeper herself!"
"If the royal family has time for a ball, then those rumors about the empress being assassinated must be fake!"
"Exactly! The empress is wise and mighty—an Emperor-Tier Swordsman! How could anyone assassinate her?"
"Hehe, the Azure Ball! Awesome! There'll be literary contests and sword duels! I've been stuck at sea for so long—I'm bored out of my mind!"
"Same!"
Bits of conversation floated over.
When Black heard "Azure Ball," he was surprised—then quickly remembered.
The Azure Ball was a unique maritime event, dating back to shortly after the Dragonheart Empire's founding.
Life at sea was monotonous—and with sudden sea dragon attacks, crew and passengers lived under constant stress.
Over time, this caused mental breakdowns.
To relieve pressure, provide entertainment, and spread gossip—the Azure Ball was born.
But holding it during such a sensitive period?
Clearly, the royals aimed to disprove rumors.
To ease anxiety, shatter fear.
A smart move—Black actually admired it.
In the game, the Azure Ball was a key scene.
Jiaye stole the show, revealing her brilliance for the first time.
She caught the attention of male side characters—those "You've caught my interest"霸道总裁 moments.
A massive popularity boost.
Unfortunately, Jiaye probably couldn't attend this time—she needed to heal.
But no big loss.
This arc mainly existed for the protagonist to show off and gain character favor.
Plus, she'd obtain the Dragonvein Fruit—a rare item that boosted power temporarily.
But it meant little to Jiaye.
Overall—even if the protagonist missed it, the plot wouldn't change.
For Black, the ball had no real meaning—but it did have one benefit:
Endless food.
He could sneak in and eat like a king!
Perfect. Decision made.
Yet, Black had no idea—days later, he wouldn't attend the ball as a deck cleaner.
He'd go as a Royal Princess's Guard.
The reason? Simple—he'd been targeted.
By Princess Alice.
...
At the top of the Hodir, a cabin offered an excellent view—overlooking the entire deck and surrounding seas.
The decor was minimalist—only black and white.
Swords lined the walls. Shelves piled high with sword manuals.
Clearly, the owner was strict, serious.
In the parlor, a graceful young woman leaned by the window—reading a literary book.
Beside her stood a young maid, holding a cup of tea in quiet attendance.
The girl read with deep focus—her expression shifting: joy, sorrow, contemplation—occasionally letting out soft gasps.
If anyone else saw this, they'd be shocked.
Because the spoiled, cold Princess Alice was rarely seen with such vivid emotions.
The young maid thought this to herself.
These expressions—Alice only showed them to her.
To others, the princess had only two moods: anger and cold indifference.
That's why most servants disliked Second Princess Alice—thinking her strange-tempered.
But the young maid disagreed.
She believed Alice was just a lonely girl—a bit isolated.
The girl by the window was indeed Alice—now free from her usual sternness, engrossed in her book.
As someone without friends—raised alone—Alice's world revolved around sword training and reading.
This was her secret passion: poetry, essays, novels.
In truth, Alice admired two kinds of people: masters of the sword and literary geniuses.
About an hour later, Alice reluctantly closed the book.
The moment it shut—her expression returned to its usual cold detachment.
The villainess Alice was back.
Handing the book to the maid, Alice glanced out the window—her eyes locking onto a figure scrubbing the deck below.
She'd heard Mary's scolding clearly earlier.
"Black… Could it be him?"
"Your Highness, do you suspect he's the accomplice?"
"Mm."
Alice gave a slight nod.
Ever since the empress was attacked three days ago, chaos had gripped the royal household.
Thankfully, Elizabeth was an Emperor-Tier Swordsman—her health bar thick enough that even a severe wound wouldn't kill her.
But her power had plummeted—at least temporarily.
Thinking of this, fury burned in Alice's heart.
How dare someone hurt Mother!
She meant Loyre—the one person Alice couldn't understand.
What was her identity, that made Mother treat her with such care?
An assassin who tried to kill the empress should've been executed on the spot—yet Mother only placed her under house arrest!
With Elizabeth protecting her, no matter how much Alice hated Loyre—she could do nothing.
And there was an accomplice—she'd seen it.
But the man wore a mask—unidentifiable.
Still, Alice was certain—he was still aboard the Hodir!
For days, she'd secretly investigated the masked man.
She'd torn down the secret passage to the empress's room, interrogated the ship's designer, and promised executions upon their return.
Yet—no trace of the masked man.
All she remembered? His general build.
Then—Mary's shouting reminded her.
Black, that little pirate—his build matched perfectly.
His identity was already suspicious.
Knowing Jörmungandr's location? No ordinary person could know that.
Alice believed he had ulterior motives.
And Mary said Black had disappeared for three full days—a very suspicious timing.
Coinciding exactly with the assassination attempt?
Too convenient.
Her conclusion?
Black was the masked man—injured, hiding for three days before reappearing.
But without proof, she couldn't act.
"Your Highness—what will you do?"
The young maid asked—seeing Alice's sharp gaze, she knew the princess had a plan.
"Even rats leave traces."
"Karina—go find Mary. Tell her this…"
Alice leaned close, whispering into Karina's ear.
"Yes, Your Highness—I'll go at once."
Watching the maid leave, Alice returned her gaze to the deck—fixing on that thin, unassuming figure.
Let's see how long you can pretend, Black.
****
The next morning, old Bu—the early-rising deck cleaner—began his work.
"Brat, you're lucky—you won't be cleaning decks anymore!"
Housekeeper Mary appeared before him, grumbling with obvious displeasure.
???
Black's eyes widened.
Did this old hag finally lose her mind?
Yesterday, she'd demanded he clean decks day and night—no food, no water!
Now, suddenly—it's over?
Could it be—a change of heart?
"Dear Housekeeper… are you mocking me?"
"Heh. If I could, I'd make you scrub decks for life!"
Mary unleashed her lion's roar again.
"But some luck—Princess Alice took interest in you. She ordered you to become her Royal Guard!"
"So you're spared. Report immediately!"
Huh?!
Black didn't expect this.
Why did this villainess Alice fixate on him?
Make him a royal guard?
Sure, it was a prestigious position—far better than deck cleaner.
But Black felt zero joy.
Alice was untouchable—she'd already tried to cut him in half twice!
Suddenly making him her guard?
Definitely up to something sinister.
This woman… does she suspect me?
Black sensed disaster.
Yes, she'd seen him—but he wore a mask. Could she really recognize him?
Or was it because he vanished for three days?
Either way—he needed to stay away from this princess!
Seeing Black frozen, Mary snapped:
"What, not happy? You love being a deck cleaner now?"
"Exactly, dear Housekeeper! I'm passionate about this job—and I'll miss you so much! Could you tell the princess I don't want to be a royal guard?"
Black scrubbed harder—proving his dedication.
"Hah! You've gone mad! Others would kill for this chance—and you refuse?!"
"Whatever your feelings—this is the princess's order. Unless you want your head chopped off!"
Mary concluded: This pirate needs therapy. A priest. Immediately.
"…Fine. I'll go."
Black sighed—a bad feeling creeping in.
New troubles were coming.
n the Dragonheart Empire, every imperial prince and princess had personal attendants—Royal Guards—whose primary duty was protection.
The selection process was extremely strict, rivaling even the Dragoncleaver Guards.
Thus, those who became guards were almost always exceptionally strong.
And their treatment? Extremely generous—a golden rice bowl that ordinary people could only dream of.
With Black's strength? He wasn't just unfit to be a guard—he wasn't even worthy to wipe their boots.
But if the princess wanted it? There was nothing he could do.
Soon, word spread across the fleet: A Level 10 pirate had become a royal guard.
Some envied him. Some resented him.
But most? They envied him.
"This is your uniform and weapon. From now on, you serve Princess Alice. Remember: protecting her is your duty—even at the cost of your life."
"The princess wishes to see you. Go to the training grounds."
Maid Karina spoke seriously, eyeing the thin, weary boy before her.
She couldn't believe this was the man who'd broken into the empress's chamber.
But the princess believed it—so she obeyed.
"Understood…"
Black put on the uniform with zero enthusiasm, took the weapon, and trudged toward the training ground.
The uniform was high-quality fabric, intricately patterned—comfortable, expensive.
Far better than his ragged pirate clothes.
Yet not a trace of joy touched him.
He knew—becoming a royal guard meant losing his freedom.
He'd be chained to that villainess day and night!
But he had critical tasks—like sabotaging the Dragonblood Council's plans.
For now—he'd play it by ear.
When Black arrived at the training ground, his eyes landed on a figure drenched in sweat.
The girl raised her sword—again and again, slashing at an ironwood dummy.
Each strike poured full force!
Sweat dripped from her flawless face. Her workout clothes were soaked.
The impact sent shockwaves through the blade—cracking her palms, blood dripping to the ground.
An ordinary person would've dropped the sword, screaming in pain.
But this girl? Silent.
Only repeating the same motion—like a soulless automaton.
This was Alice, the Sword Zealot.
Black saw she was practicing the Swordsman's Basic Technique: [Slash].
Simple? Yes.
But true mastery lay here.
When every slash was perfectly precise, when spirit energy condensed into pure sword qi—you could slay enemies above your tier!
Master the basics—foundation first.
Without it? The earth shakes beneath you.
To ordinary eyes, Alice had reached perfection—her strikes powerful, refined.
But Black knew—she was far from it.
With each slash, spirit energy spilled uselessly.
Less than half of her sword qi reached the dummy.
Too rigid. Too stiff. Too brute-force.
She didn't understand how to channel spirit energy—how to flow it through her body's meridians.
Black knew this—not because he was a sword master—but from game lore.
With a few simple tips from the game's records, he could fix many of her flaws—boosting her power significantly.
But no need.
Better to avoid trouble.
"Clang!"
Another thunderous strike—and Alice's practice sword snapped!
The broken blade spun in the air—then plunged into the ground right before Black.
F**! Attempted murder?!
Thankfully, he'd stepped back in time—or he'd be dead again!
Wiping cold sweat, Black thought: This woman is my nemesis. She attacks me the moment I arrive!
"Sorry."
Alice said it—but her tone held zero remorse.
She walked to Black, tossed the broken hilt at him, then wiped her hands with a handkerchief and drank water.
Black was confused. Why throw the broken sword at me?
Seeing him frozen, clueless, Alice's delicate brows furrowed slightly.
"Get me a new one."
Now Black understood.
Tch. Does she have no hands or feet? Nobles are so spoiled!
Still, he obediently fetched a new sword for Alice.
When in someone else's house, you bow your head.
Alice tested the sword—then tossed it back.
"Get another. The feel is wrong."
?
This sword was identical to the last—how could the "feel" be different?
Black realized it now—the princess was deliberately tormenting him.
Tch. A real man doesn't fight women!
After several trips, Alice finally got a sword with the "right feel."
She swung it once—then turned to Black.
"Come. Spar with me."
Is there no limit to this harassment?!
Black was furious.
A Level 10 Pirate sparring with a Level 40 Swordsman?
What did Alice want?
Could she not bully people this hard?!
"Your Highness, I know nothing of swordsmanship. At Level 10, I'm unworthy to spar with you!"
Whoosh!
Alice didn't waste words—lunged straight at him!
Black thought she'd just scare him—never expecting real sword qi!
And—he sensed it: hidden killing intent.
Alice truly wanted to kill him!
Instinctively, he dodged back—the blade's qi stinging his face.
Seeing he made no defensive move, Alice released the sword qi—withdrew.
The killing intent vanished.
Black was baffled.
What was the princess thinking?
She definitely wanted to kill him—then suddenly stopped.
Could it be… a test?
The more he thought, the more likely it seemed.
Alice suspected him.
Believed he was hiding his strength—so she released killing intent to force a reaction.
But Black wasn't hiding anything.
He was weak.
Her test was doomed to fail.
"If Your Highness insists—I'll comply. I hope you won't laugh at my clumsy skills."
Black picked up a sword—struck a serious pose—and charged.
Sadly, the gap was too vast.
He never touched her—only gained countless small cuts.
From the exchange, Black confirmed—she was testing him!
Every time she attacked, Alice aimed straight for Black's vital points—her eyes blazing with murderous intent.
Any decent fighter would've instinctively raised their blade to counter.
But Black? He couldn't even react.
He didn't even see her movements—just a pathetic, genuine weakling—not the kind a strong person could fake.
So, just before piercing him, Alice would suddenly release the force, sparing his life.
After several exchanges, Alice was certain:
Black wasn't hiding strength.
He was truly a useless little pirate.
Could someone like this have broken into the empress's chamber?
Alice didn't think so.
But too many suspicious details forced her to doubt.
"Mary said you mysteriously vanished for three days. What's your explanation?"
Since physical testing failed—she'd try words.
"Ahhaha, Your Highness, I can explain—but you can't punish me after!"
Black had prepared an excuse long ago.
"Speak. No matter what, I won't hold it against you."
"Well… the housekeeper banned me from eating, right? I was starving—so I hid in the kitchen and stole food. If you don't believe me, ask the kitchen staff if anything went missing these past few days."
This wasn't a complete lie—he had stolen food during those days.
Hearing this, Alice fell silent.
She knew Mary's screeching carried far—knew Black had been forbidden from eating.
So… did this mean he had no suspicion?
Alice studied Black up and down—still feeling his build matched the masked man.
Could he be hiding it that deep?
Seeing no progress, Alice gave up—for now.
Just as she opened her mouth again, Karina entered—holding a letter.
"Princess Alice, the weekly dispatch from the capital has arrived."
Alice nodded, took the envelope, and opened it—reading carefully in front of Black.
Without her saying, Black knew what it was.
These weekly letters were how the royal family stayed connected with the empire.
They recorded imperial affairs—more like a news bulletin than a personal letter.
Essential—since the core royals were at sea.
They needed to monitor the homeland.
Prevent any dragon-backed coups or rebellions.
Alice quickly scanned the content—let out a breath.
Mostly routine political news.
No emergencies.
Before opening each letter, she always prayed for nothing unusual.
Though the empire's main forces guarded the capital, without the empress present, some nobles might grow bold.
So—peaceful days were best.
Thinking this, she continued reading.
Then—her expression shifted.
Her face twisted with bitter resentment.
Karina, seeing this, was about to ask—
When Alice's sword flew from her hand—slamming into the training dummy with full Level 40 force—punching clean through!
Clearly, this strike carried rage.
"Your Highness! Did something happen in the empire?!"
Both Black and Karina jumped—shocked by her sudden violence.
"Nothing. Just my talented older sister breaking through to Level 61—becoming a Peak-Tier Swordsman."
Alice clenched her teeth, fists tight—furious.
"I'm going to bathe!"
She turned and stormed off—clearly in a terrible mood.
The princess rarely loses her cool.
Black smirked internally.
You've bullied me enough. Now it's your turn to suffer.
"The genius sister Your Highness mentioned—is that First Princess Afra?"
"Yes. Only she can make Princess Alice lose control."
Karina sighed, watching Alice's retreating figure—eyes filled with sorrow.
Having served Alice since childhood, she understood her deeply.
"Now that you're Princess Alice's only guard—I'll tell you this."
"Princess Alice is beautiful, noble, calm, decisive—the only flaw is her excessive pride."
"This pride made her more isolated, more stubborn—until she had no friends. Not even other princes and princesses dared get close."
Karina seemed lost in memory—slowly recounting Alice's story.
"The First and Second Princesses were once inseparable. But when they began cultivating spirit energy—everything changed."
"Princess Afra is the greatest sword prodigy of her generation. At just over twenty, she reached Level 61 Peak-Tier Swordsman—a height ordinary people can't reach."
"From childhood, Afra showed exceptional talent. Alice… was merely average."
"They started training together—but Afra always surged ahead."
"When Alice became a Level 5 Swordsman, Afra was already Level 20 Novice."
"The imperial family values strength. Naturally, they favored Afra. Alice lived in her shadow."
"In swordsmanship? Inferior to the superior First Princess. In charm? Inferior to the witty Third Princess. Alice was ignored by the royal family."
"But that didn't matter. What hurt Alice most—was that she gave everything."
"She woke earlier than others, slept later.
Always training, studying sword manuals.
Despite this effort—her progress was minimal."
"The gap with Afra grew wider—while Afra spent her days socializing, making friends!"
"Worse—her efforts earned no admiration.
Instead, princes, princesses, nobles—even servants—whispered that she was clumsy, wasting time for no results."
"Over time… she became who she is now.
Once so lively…"
Perhaps too emotional—too eager to defend Alice—Karina spoke on and on, forgetting Black was still a suspect.