Lingering Resonance

With a calm expression, Her Highness the Princess reassured the guests who were still in shock over the corpse crashing to the ground. Confidently announcing that the people of Lande would never be brought down by such a trivial matter and that the ball would go on, she turned and departed with dignified composure, accompanied by the old Duke and the young knight. Her demeanor was entirely composed, seemingly unaffected in the slightest by her brush with death moments ago.

Her steps beneath the skirt were merely a little unsteady, and the weight of her arm resting on the Duke’s was just a bit heavy—hardly anything worth mentioning.

It was nothing more than a minor interlude; the songs continued, and the dancing went on.

The ball did not end; rather, it was propelled to its climax.

The newly dubbed knight, the glass ceiling shattered, the foresight of the Valente family, the romance between a noble lady and a destitute commoner, the public assassination attempt on Her Highness the Princess, and... the newly made knight appearing out of nowhere like a miracle, bearing boundless moonlight and triggering a celestial spectacle akin to divine intervention.

That final bow in particular was just like the legendary tales of heroes who saved the kingdom and the princess, drifting away once the dust settled and leaving behind only a retreating figure for bards to sing of for generations.

This was undeniably an unforgettable night. Every single event was so impactful that it gave everyone endless topics to discuss. Guests were certain they would remember that final scene—the sun and moon shining together—for the rest of their lives.

From nobles to commoners, from guests to attendants, everyone eagerly discussed what had just transpired. They talked about Sir Lynch Levive, barely paying attention to the dancing as their fervent conversations stretched deep into the night.

The journalists were in a frenzy of excitement, darting about in celebration. Alongside the attending guests, everyone desperately searched for the night's central figures, but to no avail.

In truth, Lynch and Natalie were inside the Duke's castle, receiving reception of the highest caliber, with Miss Valente invited in to accompany them.

The so-called highest-caliber reception entailed the surrounding rooms being packed with four high-tier experts, over a dozen mid-tier experts, more than thirty early-stage experts, and over three hundred special service security personnel, while seated around them were influential figures—some familiar, some not—whose power could sway the future of Rhine, Lande, and even the world at large.

The security personnel did not follow them inside; only the two high-tier experts entered alongside a few heads of security. The two high-tier old men firmly clapped Lynch's arm and shook Natalie's hand, their expressions laden with solemnity and gratitude.

“You preserved our seventy or eighty years of reputation and spared us public humiliation. We won't waste words on pleasantries—if you ever need help in the future, don't hesitate to come find us.”

“Uh, in that case, could I get seven or eight more rings like this one?”

“Please get lost.”

A response brimming with friendliness and gratitude—utterly natural and worthy of celebration.

Meanwhile, the high-ranking luminaries in the room exhibited rather strange attitudes. Like primary school students, they obediently listened to Lynch and the lady officer speak, as attentive as subordinates in his past life listening to a superior's address during an agency meeting.

They were merely facing a knight, an ordinary police officer, and a count's daughter who had no hope of inheriting a title, yet their deportment was impeccably respectful, as though they were receiving foreign heads of state.

It was only natural. After all, anyone who reached such heights was no fool—at least, not entirely. These prominent figures understood very well that in any world, saving one's lord was the greatest of merits, let alone saving a princess.

After being rescued, Her Highness the Princess showed no overt reaction toward Lynch throughout the entire ordeal, not even uttering a single word of thanks, as if steeped in rightful arrogance. Yet it was precisely this that made the dignitaries' attitudes all the more solemn.

If even someone as dense as Lynch could tell that Her Highness had been acting strange ever since stepping down from the balcony, these shrewd veterans certainly did. When they noticed that Her Highness was even subtly showing goodwill toward Natalie and Diana, their suspicions about the situation were only reinforced.

What was more, they also observed the old Duke.

After witnessing the scene on the balcony, that old fox truly was completely unbothered, puffing on his pipe with even greater satisfaction. The only difference was that he grew increasingly affectionate toward Lynch, acting warmer than he would toward his own grandson. Before getting down to business, he didn't mention a single serious topic; instead, he patted Lynch's arm like a doting grandfather, making Lynch's hair stand on end and giving him a strong urge to kick the old geezer away.

The dignitaries knew His Grace the Duke even better—the old man had never treated his own flesh-and-blood grandson like this. Thus, they firmly believed that as long as Her Highness the Princess and His Grace the Duke stood tall, these three individuals would inevitably become paramount figures in the kingdom, rising to heights far beyond their own.

Lynch and Natalie hid nothing, recounting everything that had just occurred in great detail. In reality, they had simply stumbled upon the enemy's plot by chance; had it not been for good luck, it would have been impossible for them to spot the trouble sooner than anyone else.

This was obviously Lynch's phrasing, carrying the modesty and low profile characteristic of his past life. However, nobody present took it at face value, not even the two high-tier old men.

Heading to the beast arena in the back might have had an element of chance, but investigating upon sensing something amiss, quickly grasping the situation after entering the inner world, discerning the enemy's goal at the first opportunity, charging all the way into the castle to clash directly with three enemies on the ground, and ultimately rescuing the princess—none of these could ever be explained by mere luck or coincidence.

Nevertheless, through the two's description, a preliminary assessment had been made—a conclusion jointly drawn by the high-tier experts and security personnel.

According to President Olei's judgment, this was the effect of a destruction grade mystery relic. Its activation conditions were extremely demanding and required extensive preparation time; the enemy had only managed it under the cover of the beasts. Once triggered from afar, it created an overlapping space around the castle, which the three assassins used to infiltrate. Yet even with the effect of a destruction grade mystery relic, safety could not be guaranteed against high-tier experts. Consequently, the assassins had not dared to pass by the two old men, opting instead to descend from the sky.

As for the identities of the three direct assassins, conclusions had also been reached: one was a Soul Severer of the fallen god, the Lord of Fog; another was an apostate Soul Severer of Simon, the Lord of the Sky, one of the major gods; and the last was an apostate from the Church of the Sun. The Archbishop of the Church of the Sun had been summoned in the dead of night to verify their identities.

Although the purpose behind the assassination and the mastermind pulling the strings could not yet be confirmed and required further investigation, everyone present had more or less guessed the truth.

Unfortunately, using the authority of the Blazing Sun to publicly kill the princess would not alleviate the tensions between the monarchy and the secular parliament. So long as the princess was assassinated in public, those with ulterior motives would ensure that not only would parliament still be dragged in, but divine authority would also become embroiled, making the conflict even more convoluted and intense.

Lynch could only sigh at this. There was nothing wrong with harboring lofty ideals, but one's intellect had to match them first; otherwise, being manipulated while intoxicated with self-righteousness would only invite ridicule. Fortunately, Her Highness the Princess had ultimately been saved, leaving room to de-escalate the tensions, which was a blessing amid misfortune.

Regardless, Her Highness the Princess's mission for this visit was essentially accomplished. There was no need for her to make any further public appearances at tonight's ball, meaning there wouldn't be any major safety concerns from here on out. In turn, this meant tonight's ball had reached a satisfactory conclusion.

At least she had been successfully saved tonight.

As the meeting drew to a close, Lynch couldn't help but let out a relaxed smile.

Yet in the next moment, the princess—who had barely spoken to him since the incident—walked over and asked a strange question right in front of Natalie and Diana.

“Sir Lynch Levive, you must know, right? In the stories, after the fearless hero rescues the princess, what happens next?”

“Huh?”

Lynch was completely bewildered, staring blankly as three gazes collided in midair, erupting with sparks even fiercer than the sun and moon shining together.

Who am I? Where am I? What just happened?