Chapter 110

The drug finally forced Freyer’s body to give way. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Such impressive willpower,” a low, melodic voice mocked. As the assassin drew closer, Freyer’s consciousness flickered like a dying flame. He sharpened his killing intent, his face hardening into a mask of cold fury.

“What are you going to do with a look like that? I suppose a ‘fallen prince’ is still a prince; you are a bit intimidating, I’ll give you that.” The assassin sneered, baring yellowed teeth. “Not that it matters. You’re dead meat today. Along with that woman.”

The assassin ran a long tongue over the edge of his blade. Then, in a blur of motion, he lunged, cutting through the air.

“Ugh.”

A muffled cry escaped someone’s throat. The heavy thud of a body collapsing followed, and the thick, metallic scent of blood filled the air.

Through the sound of grinding teeth, Freyer stared down at the silhouette on the floor with eyes that burned like embers. The jackknife that had been in the assassin’s hand was now gripped firmly in Freyer’s own.

A moment later, the blade clattered to the floor with a sharp ring, and Freyer’s body finally collapsed. With the last shred of his willpower, he had disarmed the man and struck his vital point in a single, desperate motion.

Freyer bit his lip hard to stay conscious, the copper taste of his own blood blooming in his mouth. He fumbled for the communication device in his coat and summoned Jaybil.

– Your Highness?

The projection of Jaybil appeared in the air, his eyes widening to their limits the moment he saw Freyer.

“Come… right now.”

– I’m on my way.

As the device flickered out, Freyer’s eyes drifted shut. The communication sphere rolled across the floor, leaving a lonely trail of light.

***

By the time Freyer woke, the world had been scrubbed clean. The balcony showed no sign of the bloodbath that had occurred.

“You are awake.”

Jaybil had been standing guard, prepared for any further complications. Freyer’s throat felt parched and tight.

“Ricardo and the others…?”

If he had been targeted, they were surely in danger as well.

“Fortunately, they are unharmed.”

“…Good.”

Freyer massaged his aching temples and checked his condition. Luckily, the sedative contained no poison. He took a ragged breath and forced himself to stand.

“As planned, I have moved the body to the bedroom,” Jaybil reported, his face a mask of professional detachment.

It had been part of the plan—to expose a moment of vulnerability to draw them out. But he hadn’t expected them to use drugs. It was a careless mistake.

“Who sent him, Your Highness?”

The assassin’s words echoed in Freyer’s mind. There was only one person who hated him enough to send a professional killer.

“…It must be my brother, Ivailo Lundberg.”

He had thought his brother had backed off after a period of silence, but clearly, the noose was tightening again.

‘He must be afraid.’

The news of Freyer’s diplomatic mission to the Oneren Kingdom had undoubtedly reached the Crown Prince’s ears.

“Since they’ve attempted an assassination as expected, you must stay low until we return to the empire.”

“…….”

But something bothered him. To attempt something so bold within the palace of the Oneren Kingdom suggested an inside informant. No assassin could bypass such heavy security and reach the banquet without help from within.

“Along with that woman.”

The assassin’s threat haunted him. The target was Lilithia. Freyer’s fists clenched, veins bulging on the back of his hands.

“Is everything ready?”

“Perfectly.”

“Let’s go.”

Freyer leapt from the balcony without hesitation, and Jaybil followed suit.

***

“I never imagined I’d use such an expensive potion on a wretch like this…” Jaybil grumbled.

“It’s the only way to deceive them.”

Freyer handed a lock of his own hair to Jaybil. With a sigh, Jaybil took the silver strands and dropped them into a vial of potion. The liquid hissed and bubbled, turning dark as ink before settling into a mysterious, shimmering hue.

“Your Highness, think about this one more time…” Jaybil hesitated, but Freyer’s expression remained steadfast.

Jaybil poured the liquid over the assassin’s corpse. As the potion took hold, the body began to warp. A greyish mist rose from the melting flesh, and a foul-smelling smoke filled the room. Slowly, the corpse took on Freyer’s form.

“Oh.” Jaybil looked between the real Freyer and the decoy. “It’s identical.”

Save for the closed eyes, the stature, musculature, and facial features were a perfect replica of Freyer.

“The duration?”

“One week.”

“That is enough time to find the mastermind.”

Jaybil smiled and pulled out another vial—this one filled with a gold-flecked, dark liquid. “This is for you, Your Highness.”

Freyer picked up the bottle. This was the Transfiguration Potion. It would alter his base features—hair, eyes, and facial structure—while keeping his soul and voice intact.

“Be careful; your voice will remain the same,” Jaybil warned. These potions were rare, crafted by alchemists with deep ties to the Silvertone family. It was part of the reason Jaybil had been so hard to contact lately.

Freyer downed the potion in one go. A numbing sensation washed over his tongue, followed by a thick, viscous feeling in his throat. His brilliant silver hair turned dark as midnight, and his forest-green eyes shifted to a deep, moonlit gold. The sharp slant of his eyes softened, and a small beauty mark appeared beneath one eye.

“Wow,” Jaybil circled him, impressed. “You look like a completely different person.”

Freyer checked his reflection. It was strange, but necessary. He couldn’t approach Lilithia as himself; it would only invite more danger. And he knew his enemies likely had spies within the Pearching Kingdom as well.

“The communication lines are still down?”

“Yes. The connection to Sir Derrick is completely blocked.”

“……They were already targeting Lilithia.”

If they were trying to prevent him from reaching her, he had to act. There was only one person in the Pearching Kingdom he could trust. If that person stayed by Lilithia’s side, she would be safe.

‘I need to make contact.’

“Remember, Your Highness, your life comes first,” Jaybil urged as he moved to place the “corpse” on the terrace.

Freyer ignored the advice. To him, Lilithia’s life was far more important than his own.

“As of today, Freyer Lundberg is dead.”