Chapter 23
Daphne’s Only Weapon
Shattered glass continued to fall with a faint, tinkling sound, while the music still blared loudly.
Daphne slowly pried open her tightly shut eyes. Right in front of her were Celestian’s green eyes, steady amidst the chaos. Only then did she feel his hand brushing her cheek a couple of times.
“Daphne, breathe.”
It was only then that she realized she’d been holding her breath. She parted her lips, exhaling deeply, like someone resurfacing after a long dive.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah.”
He was the one who should’ve been asked that question. Celestian had shielded her, ensuring not even a part of her body touched the floor, as he lay sprawled beneath her.
“I was just startled…”
The large hand cradling the back of her head, as if it were precious glass, slowly released her. Daphne climbed off his surprisingly comfortable frame.
“Are you hurt?”
He asked again, and she shook her head.
Moments ago, everything had felt like a déjà vu-induced haze, like time itself had paused. But reality hit her quickly—other than some stiffness in her right foot, there was nothing wrong.
Celestian, confirming she was able to blink normally, stood up. In one swift motion, he grabbed one of the longswords mounted on the wall and unsheathed it. He struck the wooden table in front of him with it to test its sharpness.
CRACK!
The table split cleanly in half, sending one of the black-clad men stumbling backward. Daphne scrambled across the floor, retreating behind the bar counter.
“Beaucater!”
“Oh dear,” Daphne muttered.
The café owner, his face a mixture of shock and despair, stared dumbfounded at Daphne. His expression was so pitifully amusing that she nearly forgot the situation and laughed.
“Why are you still here? Go!”
“M-my café…”
Daphne almost offered to buy the café out of sheer reflex but stopped herself. This wasn’t my fault, so why should I throw money at the problem?
“I’ll make sure you’re compensated later. Now go!”
The café owner nodded, tears welling up, and crawled toward the kitchen.
Now seated on the ground, Daphne caught a glimpse of the reflection in the glass display. One blonde figure and six or seven black-clad men, nearly ten if she counted those emerging from the carriage. A sharp sting in her palm reminded her she’d accidentally pressed against glass shards.
Two or three men charged at Celestian with loud battle cries. The clanging sound of blades colliding filled the café.
As Daphne tried to shake off the tension in her foot, her hand instinctively reached toward her thigh.
“Right, the garter holster—wait, I didn’t wear it today!”
She cursed silently. She hadn’t worn it because it didn’t complement the fit of her skirt.
Clenching her fist tightly, she struck her trembling calf a couple of times to stop it from shaking. She yanked out her bothersome hairpins and let them fall to the floor.
Looking up again, she saw Celestian reflected in the brown-tinted glass. He was fighting fiercely, his slicked-back hair starting to come loose, strands flapping with his swift, fluid movements. One moment he was far away; the next, he was right back in the thick of the fight.
Daphne stared in awe before shaking her head.
“Really? Now’s the time to admire him?”
She rummaged through the shelves behind the bar, finding two bread knives.
“Whoever tossed that carriage inside isn’t just a regular coachman. And they’re definitely not ordinary NSF members, either.”
Her chest tightened as a grim thought struck her.
“Wait… to kill him?”
Celestian was, after all, a rebel. If he committed another murder within the kingdom, no amount of money could save him from execution.
“Celestian! Don’t kill anyone!”
Celestian, who had been about to deliver a deep slash to one of the men charging him, adjusted his grip upon hearing her shout.
The blunt edge of the sword struck the man’s abdomen, sending him flying into the bar stools. A cacophony of metal and leather clattering together followed.
“Celestian, I mean it! Don’t kill anyone!”
Daphne poked her head above the bar, yelling at him. The café was a complete wreck.
“I didn’t,” he said, brushing loose strands of golden hair back and answering in a low voice.
He continued to parry and counter, striking objects like glasses, plates, and bottles into his attackers’ faces as if playing badminton. Two or three men fell backward, clutching their faces.
The remaining attackers hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. All of them wielded swords with glinting steel edges.
“Oh, so those weren’t umbrellas—they were swords.”
By now, either Kisha or the attackers should have fired shots, but the air was still devoid of gunfire. Celestian tilted his head to the side, frowning, and locked eyes with Daphne. He extended his arm as if beckoning her closer.
“So, killing him isn’t their goal? Then what are they trying to do?”
Just as Daphne stood, almost entranced, someone leaped from the carriage onto the bar. Tea cups spilled toward her feet with the impact.
“What?”
The figure, dressed in combat gear optimized for swift movement and wearing a mask, slowly unsheathed their sword. Surprisingly, they pointed it toward Celestian instead of Daphne.
Daphne observed the figure’s appearance. Aside from the sword, they didn’t seem to have other weapons. The seated individuals hadn’t bothered to conceal their faces, but…
“Wait, that’s not a mask…”
All their faces were disfigured, marred by severe burns!
Celestian blew out a sharp breath, brushing his hair aside as his golden locks fell back into place. He glanced left and right, assessing the situation, before raising his sword toward the masked figure on the bar.
“Traitor, do not move,” the figure commanded in a heavy voice.
Celestian pulled off his loosened tie entirely, letting it fall to the floor.
“You think you can give me orders?”
He took a large, deliberate step forward. In response, the masked figure turned their blade toward Daphne.
The icy blade hovered just inches from her face. Daphne pursed her lips tightly, suppressing a shiver. The prince let out a low chuckle.
“Try leaving so much as a scratch on her.”
His growling voice dripped with menace.
“That’s exactly what I was going to say.”
Daphne’s eyes widened as her grip on the knives tightened.
With the masked figure’s appearance, the tension in the room spiked. Everyone froze, no one daring to make the first move.
“What are they trying to accomplish here?”
Standing near the shattered glass display, Daphne gauged the distance between herself and Celestian—about ten paces. Between them stood the masked attacker, who was threatening her but clearly focused on Celestian.
In her hands were two bread knives.
“Should I throw them or not?”
Her fingers curled around the rough handles as she prepared to act.
*****
She tried to throw the bread cutter at the assassin’s shoulder but failed once. With just a slight movement, her nose was nearly cut. Though a few strands of hair that had fallen by her face were severed, the sword in front of her was gone. Thanks to this, chaos broke out again on the opposite side.
Daphne stepped on a fallen bar chair and climbed onto the bar table.
Celestian, like a fish in water, perfectly utilized the café’s structure to confront them. Despite wearing a suit that should have restricted movement and shoes utterly devoid of functionality.
His movements as he stepped on tables and swung his sword forcefully were precise and free of excess. Just now, he had cut off the neck of a large phonograph. The ear-splitting noise from it was brief.
Daphne swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth. Shaking her head once again, she looked at the knight in front of her and threw another knife.
However, “aimed shooting” and “throwing toward a target” were entirely different.
The former was something Daphne was very confident in, but the latter…
“Oh my.”
The knife she threw with determination struck Celestian’s back. Luckily, it was the handle; if it had been the blade, it could have been a disaster. Celestian turned slowly to look at Daphne, tilting his head.
“Sorry!”
Perhaps because he was in the middle of a fight, his gaze was chilling. Daphne felt an involuntary shiver run through her.
Celestian had already subdued six people with ease, knocking them unconscious by striking the back of their necks. Weaponless, Daphne balanced herself on the long bar and kicked everything at her feet toward the assassins.
“Don’t come closer, don’t come closer!”
Her aim was utterly terrible. Even so, it was enough to keep the attackers from approaching her.
“I said don’t come closer!”
Daphne grabbed thin glass cups from the cabinet behind her and hurled them furiously.
‘Not coming closer?’
Despite her frantic attacks, the swordsman didn’t seem intent on advancing. He stood still, only attempting to approach a few times at the beginning. Even then, he had merely deflected the teacups flying toward him.
‘What’s he doing?’
Frowning, Daphne stood still. She had nothing left to throw or kick.
“Who are you?”
Naturally, the masked man didn’t answer. Daphne hadn’t expected him to.
Everything seemed to be plunging into mystery. His attitude almost felt as if he were trying to protect her.
‘It’s so strange!’
Daphne took three steps forward. He, in turn, stepped back two.
Just then, the sharp sound of a gunshot pierced the air. The masked man was struck in the arm and tumbled to the ground.
“Young lady!”
It was Kisha, with her lips split open, accompanied by several bodyguards. Kisha silently scanned the chaotic café, the shattered tables, and the assassins sprawled on the floor.
“Wow, Kisha. You sure took your time.”
The young bodyguard quickly ran up to Daphne.
“I’ll explain later. First, come down.”
Kisha stretched out her arms, signaling her to jump. Daphne prepared to leap off the bar.
Celestian set his sword aside and immediately stepped forward, catching Daphne in his arms. The sudden motion pushed Kisha backward, causing him to stumble in a comical manner.
Though Celestian was breathing heavily, his skin remained dry, not a drop of sweat in sight. He quickly carried Daphne outside the café and set her down on the asphalt, free of debris.
“Well done, temporary bodyguard. Today’s payment will be deducted from the gold mine.”
From the rooftop of the building Celestian was facing, a light flickered. Daphne blinked slowly.
‘A star?’
But it flickered intermittently from the same spot, unlike a star.
With a sudden thought, Daphne shoved the sturdy man’s body as hard as she could. She heard a sharp slicing sound tear through the air.
“Young lady!”
Her entire body stiffened. Daphne slowly looked down at herself.
“Oh, damn it…”
Dark red blood began to bloom on her yellow jacket.
