Hearing the title “Your Highness,” Lilith only then belatedly looked at the honey-haired girl who had been protected behind the masked man.
She carefully studied Wendy's face, then recalled the portrait she had caught a glimpse of when passing by the bulletin board earlier. Only then did it dawn on her.
She was actually Wendy, the Fifth Imperial Princess of the Empire!
Although Lilith was the Second Princess of the Kingdom, she had very little interest in social activities or politics. She would decline or avoid the tea parties, balls, and social gatherings of noble ladies whenever she could.
As a result, she didn't have a single close friend to this day.
So it wasn't surprising at all that she failed to recognize an imperial princess.
In stark contrast to Lilith's reaction, Vivian and Victoria beside her showed no surprise on their faces.
Since they had already known Wendy's identity, they remained quite calm.
“I won't go with you,” Wendy said, standing behind Greg. She looked at the steward with a firm gaze, her voice cold and resolute.
The smile on the steward's face remained unchanged, but a trace of coldness crept into his dark brown eyes.
In a tone that was still elegant but carried a distinct, oppressive weight, he said, “Your Highness, this is the last time I will offer you a chance. Come with me and you shall live. Otherwise—”
He paused. “You will have no choice but to die here.”
“No matter what you say, I will never go with you!” Wendy replied without a moment's hesitation.
The steward fell silent for two seconds.
“Good. Very well.”
The smile on his face finally vanished, replaced by an undisguised, icy killing intent. “In that case, I have no choice but to take matters into my own hands.”
The moment his words fell, a surge of pitch-black malice began to flow toward Wendy. But right then, a figure stepped in front of Wendy, shielding her from the malice.
Greg didn't say a word. He simply raised his right hand and slowly flipped the steward off.
Although the steward didn't know the exact meaning of this gesture, he could vaguely sense that it was some sort of insult directed at him.
The corner of his eye twitched slightly, and a hint of suppressed rage crept into his voice. “You insect... what is the meaning of this?”
“Do you really think you've won already? Why don't you look behind you!”
Greg, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. His voice carried a lazy, provocative tone through the face cloth.
Lilith's eyes widened, and a powerful sense of familiarity welled up in her heart. “So he can speak... and that voice... why does it sound so familiar?”
The steward was taken aback by Greg's confident attitude.
Frowning slightly, he turned around and spread his perception to investigate—but there was nothing behind him, not a single powerful aura.
He realized he had been played.
Turning back, he glared coldly at Greg. “What a cheap trick. I will make you pay for insulting me.”
Greg was stunned.
Wait, what do you mean by cheap trick?
Where on earth is Veronica?
Did she not catch up?
Didn't we agree to fight the Boss together?!
Step. Step.
The steward began to close the distance, step by step.
With every step he took, his aura climbed higher, and his icy killing intent pressed down on everyone's hearts like a physical weight.
Victoria, Vivian, and Lilith braced themselves for battle, while Greg gritted his teeth, preparing to force himself into the fight.
Whir!
But right then, a spear condensed from pure light suddenly tore through the air from behind. Trailing a dazzling white streak, it precisely pierced through the steward's chest.
Squelch.
The spear of light passed right through his chest, driving forward to pin itself into the ground ahead, dragging the steward's body down with it.
The steward looked down in disbelief at the glowing white hole in his chest, his face filled with shock and confusion.
He had just used his perception and confirmed there was no strong presence behind him. How could this...
But soon, he understood.
Greg's words just now weren't a bluff at all. He had deliberately lured him into checking behind him, waiting until he let his guard down before having a true expert launch a surprise attack.
From beginning to end, it was a meticulously designed trap.
He turned his head with great difficulty, looking at Greg with eyes full of rage and regret. “...What a... cunning bastard...”
Then, his head slowly drooped, and his body stopped moving entirely.
A white figure slowly stepped out from the shadows at the end of the alley. It was Veronica, wearing her white holy robe, which was slightly soiled with dust due to her haste.
She came to a halt in front of everyone, then bowed slightly, speaking to Greg who stood in front of Wendy:
“My apologies, Lord Greg. I was delayed on my way here. I hope I did not disappoint you.”
“!?”
Lilith's eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape, completely frozen in place as if turned to stone.
Just seeing Veronica, the current Saintess of the Church of Light, appear here was shocking enough.
But she had actually addressed the masked man as “Lord Greg”?
Lilith's first thought was that this Greg might not be the same person she knew.
But recalling the familiar voice she had heard earlier, she was forced to come to an unbelievable conclusion: the masked man was indeed Greg Sass!
Although Victoria and Vivian had long known Greg's identity, their expressions were far from calm when Veronica addressed him as “Lord Greg.”
Victoria's brow furrowed slightly, her heart filled with confusion:
What on earth did Greg do to make a crazy woman like Veronica, whose mind is completely filled with the Goddess of Light's teachings, willingly call him “Lord”?
Vivian lowered her eyes, a complex wave of thoughts rising in her mind:
To think Greg would go to such lengths just to marry me smoothly. With his connection to the Saintess of the Church of Light, the difficulty of me marrying down to him should be much lower.
“...Sigh, I originally just wanted to be a passing Good Samaritan.”
Seeing that his identity had been exposed, Greg stopped hiding. He reached up and pulled off his face cloth, revealing the face that most people present were already familiar with.
But just as Greg was about to say something more, Wendy, who had been standing in the back, suddenly rushed forward. She grabbed his sleeve, her voice laced with urgency and gravity:
“Ma... Lord Greg, it isn't over yet—he's not dead!”
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