Demon King of the Royal Class

Chapter 299

It wasn’t just a lack of decorum; it was an unimaginable level of rudeness. Vertus felt cold sweat running down his entire body.

If someone had done that to him, he would have been overcome by a murderous rage. He had never seen or heard of anyone spitting tea in someone else’s face, nor had he ever imagined doing something like that.

It was an act that went beyond the bounds of decency. Yet, the woman seemed more surprised than angry. Her responses had been so absurd.

Her hands had trembled excessively, which made him wonder why someone who didn’t even know his status would be so nervous. Then, she had suddenly claimed to be an alcoholic.

That statement did not match her noble appearance at all.

Her attire hadn’t been particularly luxurious, just ordinary. The large carrier she’d had with her didn’t seem to contain anything valuable, and the carrier itself wasn’t high-end. All things considered, she seemed more like a well-bred commoner.

The only distinctive features were her radiant silver hair and her delicate, almost artistically-sculpted facial features. Her makeup had been heavy, but it didn’t seem out of place.

She was a strange person in many ways.

Even from a distance, while approaching the commotion, Vertus had heard her sharp voice.

—“Hah, so you’re the type who resorts to violence when things don’t go your way aren’t you?”

—“Are you sure you want to do this, old man?”

Those weren’t words one would expect from a well-bred lady.

Thunk.

“Y-Your Highness...”

“Yes, sit.”

Vertus looked at the man who approached him, and at the two other men who followed behind him. They were all visibly tense.

Even though Vertus hadn’t said a word, they knelt before him instead of sitting on the chairs.

Vertus crossed his legs and folded his arms, looking at the three kneeling men.

“Why did you do this?”

“W-We’re sorry!”

“Didn’t I make it clear that our goal is the safe operation and management of the magic trains and stations? Yet, you not only created unease among the citizens, but also tried to strike one of them!”

“We’re sorry, Your Highness!”

The man who had lost his temper and tried to hit the mysterious young woman was among them.

These three weren’t just undercover cops; they were Vertus’s retainers, knights of the Salerion Duchy.

Vertus smirked.

“How much did you get?”

“Pardon me?”

“Luckily, nothing serious occurred. If you had actually struck that lady, though, I would have had to spend the next week dealing with the fallout once it was known that the chief of security allowed his men to beat up citizens. Meanwhile, my half-sister would be free to do nothing but watch me self-destruct. It’s a shame, really. Was that lady so formidable that she caught your slap with one hand? Huh? I’m just glad she didn’t ruin my week’s work by letting you hit her.”

“W-We’re very sorry, Your Highness. We acted thoughtlessly.”

“I asked you how much you got paid. I don’t understand. Why would you do something so insane unless Charlotte gave you money to do so? Tell me, how much did my half-sister pay you?”

Vertus’s sarcastic remark made the faces of the three knights of the Salerion Duchy turn pale. His words and demeanor bore a subtle resemblance to Reinhart’s.

“Please kill us, Your Highness!”

Though Vertus was deeply displeased, he had no intention of killing these three.

Knights often believed that they were above the law once they became part of the privileged class, especially those with close ties to powerful families. Some of them believed that the privileges they enjoyed stemmed from themselves, leading to excessive ignorance and arrogance.

There were those among the knights of the Salerion Duchy who embodied this attitude. They believed they could command city guards with a few words and kill people without facing any consequences, as though killing a few citizens was perfectly acceptable.

Attempting to strike a citizen in public was an exceptionally foolish act.

“If you try to ruin my week like this again, things will not be fun for you,” Vertus said with a menacing expression before dismissing them.

Even if they were competent, excessively short-sighted individuals were of no use. Those who enjoyed violence could be sent to places where they could indulge in it. Vertus had already decided to transfer the three to some remote frontier.

If they had actually struck the citizen who had tried to intervene, the situation would have escalated further. From what Vertus heard, the silver-haired lady had grabbed the knight’s wrist to stop him.

She didn’t seem like someone who could exert that much strength. Even if she wasn’t a warrior, being able to stop a knight’s open-handed slap with one hand was impressive. Vertus knew that physical strength didn’t always correlate with size, having seen some exceptional cases himself.

Who was she?

For the first time in his life, Vertus found himself deeply curious about the identity of someone whom he had spat tea at.

‘I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before...’

Somehow, she felt familiar. It wasn’t her face or her expression.

—“Hah, so you’re the type who resorts to violence when things don’t go your way aren’t you?”

—“Are you sure you want to do this, old man?”

Somehow, those words and actions felt familiar to Vertus. However, the strong impression he had of the silver-haired lady made it impossible for Vertus to mentally overlay another person’s image onto hers.

Her extreme nervousness when face-to-face with him had been somewhat endearing as well.

“... There’s no point in someone of high status like you knowing my name.”

It seemed like she knew who he was, even though he hadn’t mentioned it. Of course, it wasn’t unusual for people to recognize him, since he wasn’t exactly an unknown person.

‘Who is she? What does she do?’

Vertus felt unsettled by the unexpected encounter.

***

Meeting Vertus by sheer coincidence was already a nightmare. But realizing that nothing would have happened if I had just ignored the kids getting beaten made it even worse.

It was all ridiculous. What had started as a concept had now become reality. Even so, in my book, no matter what sort of scoundrel-like behavior kids got up to, senselessly beating them in front of everyone was just not right.

Even though what I was saying was correct, the fact that I was the one saying them made it all the more messed up. I needed to let it go.

Vertus wouldn’t show up to watch something like a cross-dressing contest. He was too busy with his important responsibilities and probably won’t even set foot near the Temple during the festival.

As I got closer to the Temple, my steps felt heavier and heavier.

‘Seriously... I really don’t want to go... But I have to. This is all for my own good. I have no choice but to go...’

Even the garment bag felt as heavy as a block of iron.

At least I had made one resolution: No matter what happened, I had to endure it. If I kept acting on impulse as I did earlier, something could go wrong. If I didn’t curb my impulses, things could get even worse.

***

“Why am I doing this...?”

Connor Lint stared blankly into space with unfocused eyes. At that moment, he was wearing a woman’s dress that had been prepared by the organizers.

Connor Lint wanted to cut off his own tongue for having said something so pointless.

.

.

“The cross-dressing contest is today, isn’t it?”

“So what?”

Heinrich von Schwartz, Kaier Vioden, Erhi de Raffaeli, and Connor Lint had been hanging out together throughout the festival, enjoying various activities.

“They’re accepting applications until this evening,” said Connor Lint.

He had brought it up with the wicked thought that it wouldn’t be him.

“How about we play rock-paper-scissors, and the loser has to enter? What do you think?”

Boys sometimes staked their lives on strange bets.

To be precise, they often took pointless risks just to see each other being humiliated.

“What? Why would we do that? Are you crazy?”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

How embarrassing it would be, seeing one of the others in a state they would never want to be in, in front of countless people. The sheer humiliation on their faces would be entertaining.

It would be a lifelong source of teasing. There was no reason not to do it. Naturally, the others all had lukewarm reactions.

Until Connor Lint uttered the magic words.

“It’s fine as long as it’s not you who has to do it,right?”

There were four of them, and so the odds were one in four. A twenty-five percent chance of losing, in exchange for a seventy-five percent chance of enjoying someone else’s humiliation.

It was a bet that couldn’t be passed up.

Before rational judgment could take over, Connor Lint had already spoken up.

“Rock-paper-scissors, loser goes!”

The result was...

.

.

“...”

Connor Lint’s presence in the waiting room behind the auditorium where the cross-dressing contest was being held explained everything. The notion of “as long as it’s not me” meant that it had to be someone, and that someone turned out to be Connor Lint.

Even though the odds were the same for everyone, it often seemed like the one who suggested the idea was the one who ended up losing, and Connor Lint was no exception.

“Hey, can you stay still for a moment? Gosh.”

“Ah, okay...”

“Look up. Why is your skin like this? The makeup isn’t even sticking properly. Tsk.”

Riana de Granz was applying makeup to Connor Lint’s face. She seemed to find the whole situation amusing, and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Riana, the duchess’s daughter, would normally barely acknowledge Connor, but at the moment, she was personally applying makeup to his face.

Under normal circumstances, Connor would have been overwhelmed with gratitude and his heart would have been racing, but he felt just like he was dying in real-time.

.

.

Even though none of the boys had considered doing something like that before, friends often enthusiastically helped each other out in such unfortunate situations.

“What? A cross-dressing contest? You guys are into that sort of thing?

“Oh, you’re doing it as a punishment? And you’re the one entering? Haha, oh wow. That’s hilarious! Makeup? Sure, I’ll do it! Where is it? Is it today?”

Since the four boys knew that Riana was supporting Ellen and Cliffman in the Mister and Miss Temple contests, they had sought her out.

Despite their initial indifference, as soon as Connor Lint had been chosen to participate in the cross-dressing contest, they successfully recruited Riana, who they usually could not even speak to, as their makeup specialist.

Riana found the whole thing highly amusing. Not only did she do Connor’s makeup, but also helped him choose an outfit from the many women’s clothes prepared by the organizers. Of course, she didn’t lend him any of her own clothes.

Riana was meticulously trying different wigs and makeup styles on Connor, who was wearing one of the many dresses provided by the organizers. After much deliberation, Riana clicked her tongue.

“This is hopeless.”

“W-What is?”

“No matter what I do, you just look ridiculous.”

“...”

Riana giggled as she looked at Connor, who, despite all her efforts, only looked more comical.

Similar scenes were unfolding around them. The waiting room wasn’t very large—just a big hall behind the auditorium. Some people were sighing deeply, while others, like Connor, were having their makeup done by someone else.

Most of them wore grim expressions. Some were nervously adjusting their appearance in front of mirrors, which was even harder to watch.

Over there, a nearly two-meter-tall human tank was wearing the largest dress available, but it still looked like a short skirt on him. He seemed deeply embarrassed by his appearance, unable to bear the shame.

That waiting room was essentially hell.

Connor Lint wondered who was more wicked: the demons of this hell, or the spectators who were waiting to mock them.

It was fortunate that only one person was allowed to help with makeup or dressing for each participant—in his case, Riana—so she was the only one who could laugh at his predicament.

His mouth had finally gotten him into trouble. There was no point in wallowing in self-pity; he couldn’t undo what had been done.

[Participant number 1]

Connor Lint had a placard with his number pinned to his chest. He was also the first to go on stage. The order of participants was supposed to be random, and not based on the order of application. Despite applying last, he was being made to go first, which made him want to die even more.

“Why couldn’t you have been born prettier?”

“How is that my fault...? Why do I need to be pretty... I’m a guy...”

“Oh is that so? But you’re not particularly handsome either.”

“Please, just kill me...”

Riana continued to giggle and tease him as she applied makeup to his face, finding the whole situation endlessly amusing.

Who else could he blame? He could only blame himself for bringing this hell upon himself.

In the midst of the communal torment that engulfed the somewhat-chaotic waiting room where preparations for the contest were underway, Connor Lint noticed someone sitting in a corner, dressed similarly to him.

The person was wearing something like a robe. Judging by their attire, they seemed to be a participant. The hood of the robe was pulled low, so he couldn’t see under it clearly, but he could make out silver hair, a delicate jawline, and shimmering pink lips.

Even at a glance, this person had a different aura. They were sitting quietly in the corner, not talking to anyone, until someone from the organizing staff approached them.

Though he couldn’t hear the conversation from a distance, it seemed they were discussing something. The person nodded and then removed their hood.

Connor Lint was left speechless. The same went for the other participants who happened to glance in that direction.

After what seemed like a brief conversation, the staff member nodded in understanding.

“What are you staring at?” Riana asked, following Connor’s gaze. When she saw what he was looking at, she dropped her makeup tools.

“... Wait. Can girls participate too? No, that can’t be right,” Riana muttered in disbelief, even though she knew it was impossible.

After finishing the conversation with the member of the organizing staff, the “girl” pulled her hood back up.

Riana turned to Connor with a bewildered expression. The “girl’s” face was no longer visible.

“Was that a guy?”

“H-How should I know? Don’t ask me...”

The two of them, along with everyone else who had seen the silver-haired participant, were dumbfounded.

Connor Lint believed he had made eye contact with the “girl” before she had pulled her hood back up, and he was sure he’d seen her face turn bright red.

‘No way...’

In that brief moment, Connor felt something familiar in that girl’s face and demeanor.

‘She can’t be into me, right?’

Connor Lint was jumping to strange conclusions. He noticed the number pinned to that person’s chest: participant number 40.

He could see her lips moving under the hood, muttering something over and over.

—Why the hell are they here... Why...

Of course, he didn’t realize that most of what she was muttering were expletives.