A living hell.

  If the princess was assassinated, the kingdom would descend into a living hell—the hell of a civil war. The other kingdoms would immediately seize the opportunity, and it would escalate into a full-blown war. Everyone would suffer the consequences; no one would be left untouched.

  The Quest description was very clear: Stop the princess's assassination. But how was that possible? Would someone really try it in front of so many people, in front of the personal guard? Then again, at a public event like this, a parade, there were plenty of people to hide among, to blend in with, to get lost in, that was for sure. But it didn't matter; whoever tried, whoever even attempted it, would die. And for what? Who would benefit from that? It was complete madness.

  Even if it was a real threat, why did he have to intervene? That's what the royal guard was for; let them do their damn job. He would wash his hands of it. He couldn't wash his hands of it.

  The assassination... where could the assassin be? That, of course, depended on the method they were going to use. He was in the middle of a sea of people; it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Vincent swallowed hard. Even if he tried with all his might, was it really possible to complete the Quest?

  "Vincent, are you okay?" Ayame asked, always ready to support him. He felt her hand on his back, which helped to ground him, so to speak.

  "I'm fine. Just... a lot of people, I guess."

  He couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her. Maybe it was nothing. No, it had to be nothing. What the hell was he thinking? Yes, what the hell had he been thinking from the beginning? He had sought greatness, hadn't he? To be something more than a blacksmith. And now he was at the doorstep of a war, right at the epicenter. If it turned out to be true. So he had what he was looking for. A life in interesting times. And knights. Knights, well. Vincent almost burst out laughing. Knights saved princesses. No, no. What other way? What better way could there be to prove his worth?

  This whole thing was like a bad joke. He had to stay calm. What should he do now? Tell his companions? Elizabeth? The professor? Or go straight to the Royal Guard? Maybe. Whatever. Tell everyone. As many people as he could. Except, what if he was wrong? What if nothing happened? Then he wouldn't just be humiliated. He would surely receive some kind of punishment for having interrupted the damn parade. Because they had to have passed through here precisely today. And precisely when he was visiting. Gods. Gods, what terrible luck.

  "Something's wrong, isn't it?" Ayame insisted. "You don't have to act tough. Not with me. Do you see something?"

  His voice trembled slightly.

  "Like what?"

  Tara overheard them. She began to look around with those eagle eyes of hers. With that eagle vision.

  "I don't know. Something suspicious. I have a bad feeling."

  Maybe he was worrying for nothing. If he, of all people, had received this Quest, surely the Royal Guard would have too. They were warned and would do their duty. Surely. He didn't have to do anything. The fate of the kingdom didn't depend on him, or anything absurd like that. It couldn't be true. And once again, he was back where he started, not moving forward.

  He clicked his tongue.

  "I think they're going to try to kill her."

  It was too serious to worry about being wrong.

  "What are you saying?" Ayame asked.

  "The princess."

  "That's not—" Elizabeth said. "Why? Why do you say that? I don't see anything."

  Neither did he. He didn't either. But the notification hadn't disappeared yet. Vincent bit his lips.

  "Don't cause a scene, but I've received a Quest and I don't know what to do. A Quest to prevent her assassination."

  "Is that what you're saying?" Ayame asked. "Why you?"

  "How the hell should I know? I'd like to know the same thing."

  "If it's a system notification, it has to be true," Tara said. "We have to tell someone."

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  "And what if it's not? What if they back down? How would we look? Interrupting all of this."

  "But if Cecilia dies, it's over. We go from the classroom straight to war."

  "Yeah, I know that already. I know. I know I'm just going in circles, avoiding the truth."

  It was time to make a decision. Or rather, it had already been made. All he had to do was take the step forward. The last necessary step. To summon that courage.

  Anyway, if he didn't go, they would come for him. Vincent took a deep breath.

  "I'll do it. You stay here."

  He navigated through the crowd towards the princess's procession. What worried him most was being right and one of them dying instead of the princess. But he knew immediately that even if he insisted, they wouldn't listen to him. Anyway, he didn't have time to insist.

  Crunch. Not just the gravel under his feet, but he was starting to feel something. A certain something, like static. Something that reminded him of the Golem's core, seconds before it exploded. And then...

  Vincent said nothing. He warned no one. He leaped onto the float. He climbed onto the pedestal where the princess was positioned. A girl, more or less his age, named Cecilia. That's what she was, in the end. Just a kid, like him. He grabbed her, threw her to the ground, and covered her with his body, putting his shield in front. And why? Because the static had ceased. Because something had exploded. He knew it by instinct.

  Of course, the guards didn't share that view. They pounced on him, as if he were the potential assassin. The blade of a sword nearly sank into his neck. Before that could happen.

  "Let go of me, you degenerate, or die!" Cecilia joined the action. She had spirit. He hoped it would serve her well.

  There was an impact and then another explosion, which sent them flying back at least ten meters. No one tried to catch them. On the contrary, the crowd dispersed, making room.

  Damn, he thought.

  "Sorry." Rolling on the ground. Damn. "You'll thank me later," Vincent muttered, getting up on shaky legs.

  He glanced at his shield. There was a hole in it. A small circle. But what mattered wasn't the size, but that somehow a single blow had been enough to penetrate it. So it was obvious what it would have done to the princess's head, and to any human being. Obviously. He didn't understand anything, but it must have been a projectile. That was obvious. He looked up, scanning the surroundings. Where had it been fired from?

  Vincent felt dizzy, stumbling backward. The impact had left him shaken, not to mention the landing. It wasn't so easy to get over it, to pretend nothing had happened. They had survived the first shot. Everything was still up in the air. But it could be worse.

  He had done well, without fear, but things could go wrong in a tenth of a second. He couldn't let his guard down.

  Speaking of which...

  "What is happening? Guards!" the king shouted. "This is unacceptable!"

  Of course, it was humiliating. Someone had not only come close to assassinating the princess, but the person who had saved her was some random brat. He had looked bad in every way, on top of it being public. But the worst part, in his opinion, was something that seemed to bother no one else. Why the hell was he worried about the image this would project? His own daughter had been on the verge of death. They had almost blown her brains out.

  For fuck's sake!

  The queen was the only one who had a human reaction, getting down from her pedestal to run to her daughter. Which was also a mistake. Of course, it increased the danger. It gave the shooter the possibility, perhaps, of killing two birds with one stone. But at least it was a forgivable mistake.

  Speaking of mistakes, why the princess? Why not the queen and king, so close by? Much more important targets. Why? He was in the same situation right now. But why?

  A bang. Vincent heard it, like a distant detonation. Impossible to track where the sound was coming from. But what mattered was that a second projectile was on its way. Without a doubt. And this time, for the queen's head.

  Vincent set off, knowing he wouldn't be fast enough. That no one was close enough. But he was a fool. It was as if he had forgotten he wasn't alone. Ayame intervened and blocked the projectile with one hand. The impact of that thing, whatever it was, shattered her left hand. Blood and flesh went flying. It was a mess of torn skin and mangled flesh. Bile rose in his throat. He felt even dizzier. Shit.

  "You're..." Vincent muttered.

  "You've seen me recover from worse," she said simply, as if it were nothing.

  And it was nothing. It was practically nothing. But he swallowed hard.

  It vanished like the morning mist. The reason for the panic, rather, only to be replaced by a worse one. More accurately, where did they come from?

  Half a dozen shadows appeared out of nowhere. There was no better word. It was as if people's shadows had detached themselves and stood up. The only distinguishing feature was their height. One of them was exactly the same height as him. That was all.

  The royal guard was composed of the best warriors in the kingdom, of all kinds of combat classes, as long as they had the necessary attitude. However, in the blink of an eye, they began to die around them, to fall like flies. Their blood and guts littered the ground.

  He saw one of the shadows shoot some kind of claw that lodged in the chest of one of those poor bastards. And then the chain it was attached to retracted very quickly, that is, it sent him flying. How far? Well, far enough to be sure he wouldn't survive the fall. A distance that would be almost comical in other circumstances, ridiculous and exaggerated. Like a dream where the rules of reality didn't hold. But this was very real. It was a nightmare he was living, happening right before his own eyes.

  To top it all off, the procession, along with at least a dozen floats, went to hell. Because right from below, something emerged. Ayame and he had to back away. Tara and Elizabeth, who had been approaching, also ran in the opposite direction to avoid being crushed, not by that something, but by all the shit scattered as it emerged.

  The shadow it cast on the ground was quite a bit larger than some buildings. A golem, like in that cave.

  They weren't going to stop. Whoever they were, they were giving it their all. To kill the princess, to sow chaos in the kingdom. How dreadful. How insane.