Carriage number four came to a stop at the side of the road. Victor opened the door calmly, maintaining a composed and polite demeanor to project a false status—regardless of his true rank, identity, or prestige.
He reached out and guided Selith down with him in perfect synchrony, resembling a pair of high-ranking nobles.
All eyes were on Victor.
His face might not have matched the contemporary ideals of beauty, yet the sternness of his expression amplified an air of authority.
Within the capital district, many exhibited similar behavior; appearances reflected lives of luxury and indulgence.
These people had no need to hide their jewelry or wealth, living without fear of theft, for soldiers were ever-watchful in every corner.
Victor decided to blend in with them. Observing as the carriage entered, he noted that few workers or middle-class citizens roamed the streets, though attendants in shops and resource carriers could be seen.
The entire area seemed constructed specifically for the upper class or nobility. As they traveled through the brightly lit city without a clear destination, a crow dropped a piece of paper along with its cargo.
'A banquet is being held inside the palace. Enter, and you will find your target.'
Victor unfolded the paper and saw an invitation addressed to Oliver Dencart, a hotel magnate of the Republic of Ven.
His eyes widened in astonishment.
This man had used his own name to orchestrate
the event directly. The actions almost seemed to risk his life, as though he were willing to sacrifice himself along with this mission.
Yet it was impossible to halt, as the entire scheme was leading to civil war and potentially external conflict—a devastating blow to the Revolution.
Victor pondered. Considering all possibilities, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks.
Though this method would allow quick access to the target, it was an avoidable danger.
Oliver had Victor as a disposable pawn, capable of being used or discarded at will, with the ability to control everything remotely.
No matter how hard he tried, Victor could not comprehend this man.
'He wants me to use his name… what is he thinking!?'
Entering the main venue would be difficult without carefully timing it.
Bradwin Vemhel might be well-placed within, making him hard to track once the banquet ended. If Oliver's goal was to sacrifice Victor as a pawn to quickly eliminate the target, both could be caught. Allowing time and waiting for an ambush at Bradwin's stronghold could yield far more valuable results.
'Why… I just cannot understand the strategy behind this mission.'
Scanning for vehicles, Victor found only emptiness—the night likely being a time for rest. Walking to the palace would take too long and risk his attire becoming sweaty, undermining his appearance at the banquet.
His intense contemplation caused him to stand still for a long time, Selith watching with concern. Silence surrounded them as though he were lost in thought, unable to distinguish reality from imagination.
Eventually, a soldier approached, speaking politely.
"May I assist you?"
Victor handed the invitation to the soldier. Moments later, radio communications coordinated transportation swiftly, simplifying the situation.
They were invited into a luxurious vehicle from the palace, guided by military humvees equipped with heavy machine guns. The cars were painted black, with the Republic of Ven flags waving along the route.
Before the grand palace on a high hill, the clamor of machinery and thick smoke obscured the path. Flags from both sides welcomed them as fireworks ignited after the invitation was verified.
The vehicle entered a metallic roadway. Beneath the palace, the scene resembled a ceaselessly operating weapons factory.
It stopped before a massive metal elevator, eliciting awe from Selith. Her legs trembled with excitement as she stepped down.
Victor, too, admired the sight openly.
They were led by a fully uniformed officer adorned with gold medals, standing proudly in the center of the elevator's wide platform.
The heavy machinery rumbled like a steam engine, propelling them upward amid thick smoke and immense force.
Passing intermittent dim lights, they reached the palace grounds. Royal guards stamped their feet ceremoniously, providing an honorable welcome.
The lead officer bowed, allowing the pair to move freely from the palace entrance to the grand ballroom filled with an extravagant dance.
The banquet's lavish spread, unmatched by any fine restaurant, immediately drew Selith's attention.
It was an ideal situation for an assassination.
With no one following them, the first task was to scan the room. Observation from every angle and rapid perception were crucial.
After standing still for a while, a woman approached, her face full of mischief.
"Excuse me, sir. Who might you be? Do you already have a dance partner?"
Victor smiled.
"Dancing alone will not satisfy me."
"In that case, I am more than capable. My father owns numerous businesses, such as luxury jewelry, which could support you far beyond what you might imagine~"
She slipped her hand into Victor's jacket pocket, grabbing and reading the invitation seductively, her voice teasing.
"Marvelous! A renowned hotel business—if I could join in your success, we would be perfect together~"
"I'm afraid not. I built all my ventures with my own hands. It would be improper to rely on someone with no business of their own. My hotels do not require luxury jewelry; such things cannot enhance my achievements."
After speaking, he walked away calmly.
Following this, several women approached him continuously, some creating complicated situations that could incur responsibility, while many left with flushed faces, lacking any sign of embarrassment.
'Forgive me, Oliver, for sullying your name.'
Victor exhaled heavily, never imagining his appearance would draw such attention. Yet now, gossip would spread like a virus.
Inside the vast hall, attended by hundreds of wealthy and influential figures, the festive ceremony was interrupted by a man appearing on the balcony.
All eyes turned in his direction.
A middle-aged man with short hair faced forward with perfect alignment. His stern face was marked by a gruesome wound across one eye. Though sightless, his sweeping gaze inspired widespread fear.
"Welcome, everyone. I am the Supreme Leader of the Republic of Ven, one of the core leaders central to all strategic advancements. My name is Gerald Difanceral.
"Most of you know me by reputation, through books and longstanding achievements of the Republic of Ven. Today, I must appear personally to make a serious declaration.
"Soon, civil war will commence, yet it will not surpass our capabilities.
"Containing the situation is too vast a task. Therefore, I declare measures to restore the supreme command of the military!"
Several nobles whispered among themselves, shocked. Victor secretly observed the reactions.
"Is this the return of the Ravenis faction of power!?"
"Who will protect us now!?"
"The leadership has gone mad!"
While panic spread, Victor scanned for individuals who remained calm—possibly leaders or those directly linked to the Revolution, such as Bradwin Vemhel.
The elderly, stout man with a long white beard smiled and clapped, transforming the tense atmosphere into exaggerated celebration, prompting nobles to force smiles at a dark triumph.
Many trusted the military, yet some were ready to flee, revealing internal division through their expressions and faith.
'Perhaps this is exactly what Oliver intended me to witness…'