Author: Lioness

Fakes Don’t Want To Be Real

~ 64 ~


He muttered without erasing the smile on his face.


“Should I burn them so that they don’t talk?”


Psychke was terrified.


“No, please be patient.”


“What about breaking one of their fingers?”


“That too.”


“Princess, aren’t you too kind? Are you allowing them to insult you like that?”


“I’m used to it. I am okay.”


She wanted to be this kind.


Next time, she will surely do things without asking her. He dropped the topic and said another thing.


“I’m afraid you will misunderstand again, but I didn’t come to a crowded place just to put an end to rumors of discord. You know?”


As Psychke was about to answer, the voice of the host, whose voice had been raised by magic, resounded. Verndia muttered without erasing his smile.


“The match is about to begin.” (The host.)


“Yes, I know.”


In line with that sound, two masked swordsmen appeared from both ends of the arena.


Psychke was appalled.


The place where they are now was a swordsmanship competition held informally for a week to commemorate the prince’s coming-of-age ceremony.


They wore the same armor and clothes. Verndia told her before they left and he explained it t o her again one more time.


And today was the last day of the week, starting with the quarter finals.


“Since it is a tournament where there is no distinction between nobles and commoners, they covered their faces so that they could fight without being intimidated. If so, just looking at the scabbard would reveal everything.”


It was a gift from Verndia for Psychke, who likes swords. Unlike her high competition rate, it was not difficult to obtain tickets.


“It seems that everyone uses the same sword.”


“Sir Isolet must have suffered.”.


“My money was the one that suffered. Don’t think of other men.”


“Because of those who said that you can only show your skills by fighting with what you are familiar with. Isn’t it obvious, if you don’t want to talk behind your back, just abstain on your own.”


“As you said, everyone is wearing a mask.”


Verndia tutted.


“The eight people who will come out today are all nobles. Just by looking at the decorations on the sword, you can tell which family it belongs to. Even the Princess will know some of them.”


The first fight ended abruptly and the second was no different.


Only those who were ignorant of swordsmanship were enthusiastic, but the arena was strangely rigid.


“I knew it would be like this. The third will be different, though.”


It was as he said.


“These are two swordsmen who excelled in every match!”


The one on the left was a blonde man wearing a white mask. The one on the right was a black-haired man wearing a black mask. With that words, two masked swordsmen appeared from both ends of the arena. Unlike the previous match, where they checked the scabbard first, the two were only staring at each other’s faces.


They wore the same armor and clothes. The swordsman, who saw the opponent’s splendid scabbard, withdrew shortly thereafter. The shape of the knife was oddly familiar.


Psychke couldn’t take her eyes off the two of them.




Still, Psychke, who had hoped for it just in case, was lost in daze.


And that doubt turned to certainty when she saw the two men’s swords.


It was Aiden and Yzhar.


* * *


Yzhar took the lead of the match.




A distinct metal grinding sound resonated.


Gradually, Aiden swung his the sword and dug inward. Yzhar flinched and distanced himself, as if he didn’t expect his opponent to fight with him despite knowing his identiity.


“Are you going to fight? Come on?”


He asked in a low voice, as if interrogating, but Aiden swung his sword without saying a word. It meant that he would not back down. Yzhhar, who was displeased with his action, dealt with him with a pained sound.


Just like that, several sums of pressure come and go.


Psychke, who was going through their matches as if analyzing them, opened her eyes wide.




She was surprised in two ways. The first was that the match, which looked like it would end soon, was going on for like eternity.


Without a doubt, she doubt that Yzhar would win and that Aiden will struggle, but the opposite happened. Yzhar was the one struggling.




His swear words reached the audience. Regardless of this, Aiden fiercely pushed him.


‘They were the same.’


It was because the swordsmanship of the person she met in the labyrinth and Yzhar’s swordsmanship were the same. Similar to but not  to Silkisia, it pursues only extreme destruction without considering the body of the swordsman it uses.


It was not destructive because it attracted a lot of people’s attention, but it was clearly visible in Psychke’s eyes. That was the same swordsmanship. And the moment she realized that, Psychke knew why Yzhar was being pushed by Aiden.


‘The core of that swordsmanship is its destructive power.’


Killing was forbidden in this competition.


It was a sword trick to destroy something, but since the core was removed, it had to be pushed back.


‘Since when did he change like that?’


The last sparring with Yzhar was a year ago. After that, she couldn’t see his swordsmanship because she was kicked out like a stray cat, saying not to enter the gymnasium.


‘He changed that much in just one year?”


Is such a thing possible?


She couldn’t believe it even though she saw it with both of her eyes.


Then, in the battle in the labyrinth that suddenly emerged, something suddenly cut off in her head. The hostility that was severe enough to pierce the skin.


He wanted to kill her.


So, maybe that was the reason why his swordsmanship changed so much…


In an instant, she met the black eyes behind the mask head-on. There was life in her eyes, which had only been insensitive.






The sound of metal being cut pierced the air. His armor was cut and his skin was chapped. Red blood dripped from Aiden, who was unable to avoid the attack from his opponent.


It was a lethal move.




“Bl, blood!”


Even if it was a swordsmanship match, the match so far had been bland, so some feeble-minded nobles screamed and collapsed. They wanted to watch a swordsmanship match, but afraid of blood, so it was all the more so because the majority of those who came after hearing that the killing was banned.


The embarrassed host cut off the proceedings.


“We’re going to take a break for a while!”


The priest and doctor who had been waiting in advance rushed to Aiden, who was kneeling and clutching his waist. In the corner of the stadium, discussions began about whether to continue this match or whether to disqualify.


However, Yzhar, who heard the exclamation, did not move. He looked only at Psychke with cold eyes.


She couldn’t find any sense of affection from his eyes, as if he was her enemy.


Psychke didn’t look away from his gaze.


Even though she bit her lower lip until it turned white, she didn’t budge. She put all her strength in her hand holding the handle of her chair and glared at him with sad eyes.


Right around that time, the host who was talking to Aiden voiced out with embarrassment.


“Yes? Are you sure you still want to continue?”




After finishing the treatment, Aiden stood up. He denied the host’s words that it is alright to end this match.


Aiden’s red eyes fell to Psychke’s hardened face and said.


“I will continue.”


“It’s only a temporary treatment, so the wound may burst.”


“It’s okay.”


Therefore, the match resumed.


The host announced that even if Yzhar won, he would not be able to fight to the semi-finals.




Yzhar, exuding genuine disgust, turned his back on Psychke. Judging from the emotion in his voice, it seemed that he was embarrassed that he did not advance to the semi-finals.


Psychke recalled the privilege given to the winner of the contest.


‘In commemoration of the victory, it was said he could make a wish to the head of Ikaxia or Adenthal.’


What kind of wish did he borrow that a man as much as Ikaxia’s vice president participated in the game?


She couldn’t tell.


There were some precarious situations, but not enough to affect the win or loss. Aiden beat Yzhar.


Yzhar’s swordsmanship, which had significantly reduced destructive power, was lacking somewhere, just like at the beginning of the match.






As Yzhar returned to the waiting room, accusations and verbal abuse poured into his ears.


It was the work of people who sat too far away to guess his identity.


She was looking at Yzhar’s back as he entered after the game, when she heard a woman’s annoyed voice.


“Ah, really. Is there anything going on?”


It was the voice she heard in the alleyways and doll kingdom events.


As she reflexively looked back toward the exit, through the undulating crowd, her pink hair fluttered for a moment before disappearing.




Are they couple because they were together even in  the doll kingdom?


Whatever happened, what does it matter?


Psychke turned her head towards the arena. He had already entered, and Yzhar was nowhere to be seen.


She jumped up from her seat.


Then, in her astonishment, Verndia looked up at her in confusion.


“Where are you going?”


“The waiting room.”


She didn’t explain further, and Verndia didn’t ask.


He also saw the brother and sister’s snowball fight, so he just stood up and followed.


* * *


“Educate your children right!”




Jjaak, the sound of a cheek being slapped echoed through the waiting room.


Those who lost left, and those who won went out to check the skills of the next opponent, so there were few people in the room. Just in time, an unlucky man passed by.


She was startled and pretended not to see that, but she ran into that warm blue eyes.


“What you looking at? Not going to get lost?”


Lenox, who slapped the cheek of a man about his father’s age, growled.


The old man hastily disappeared.


Yzhar remembered the family name of the escaped swordsman. He was thinking of burying him to keep his mouth shut. Then, casually, he rebuked his younger brother.


“Stop it, Lenox.”


“If you knew it was your brother, you should crawl on your own. Do you know what happened to your brother because of that Aiden son of a b*tch?”


“I told you to stop.”


Lenox, who doesn’t know how scary people could be but he know how Yzhar could be scary so he stopped his hand.


Baron Hillace, whose face was red with handprints, bent over.


“I am a sinner for not being able to take care of my children. I will definitely teach him today.”


“Shall we lend the enlisted men?”


“No. It’s my family business, so I’ll handle it on my own.”




Yzhar stopped asking him. In fact, he couldn’t afford to care about Aiden or the like.


Rather than that, the adopted child who looked at him with cheeky eyes took precedence.


‘She must have laughed at me.’


She must be feeling that he looked pathetic after losing to a guy like that. She was probably laughing at him saying he was not worth dealing with.


How did it happen like this?


Her place is below me, not above me!


Even if it’s fiction, not truth, she has to lower her back and bow at me!


Why, why?!


“Older Brother.”


The thought that had fallen to the endless floor was suddenly cut off.


He raised his head.


His younger brother, who always stood in his way, stood tall in front of him.

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