Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 34

Chapter 34

 

Claude muttered to himself as he meticulously examined the white horse tied to a post. With the hunting tournament just around the corner, he was more on edge than usual.

Laughter rang out behind him. Unlike Claude, Alexis looked relaxed, dressed in a fitted hunting suit that clung neatly to his frame.

He leisurely spun his longsword in the air, an almost too-carefree gesture for someone about to participate in a hunt.

“You act like this isn’t an annual event. What, are you afraid you won’t even catch a single bird?”

“A bird? Please. I’m the captain of the knights, you know. I’ll easily take down at least three or four foxes.”

Claude tightened the saddle strap once more and glanced at the dense forest spread out before him.

Rare creatures not easily found elsewhere often appeared in the royal hunting grounds, where the imperial flag fluttered in the wind.

In particular, the white foxes that inhabited this forest were prized for their clean, soft fur. Claude was determined to catch a large one and make a beautiful scarf for Yuria.

Reaffirming his personal goal, he lightly patted the horse’s flank.

“His Highness must win today.”

“We’ll see. The competition’s fierce. It won’t be easy.”

Alexis drove his sharpened longsword into the ground with a firm thrust and tilted his head back, revealing a striking jawline. Not far from them, the other participants were busy with their own preparations.

Young high-ranking nobles busied themselves flaunting expensive clothing and equipment, while the palace guards and knight order members drafted for today’s event checked their weapons with grave expressions.

Roughly fifteen carefully selected participants had gathered. The winner of the tournament would receive not only the Emperor’s praise but also a prize of three million Salas, a fertile estate within the capital, and a small mansion.

But more than anything, what they sought was honor. The true victor would be the one to catch the basilisk—a fierce beast released as the tournament’s ultimate challenge.

It was notoriously hard to capture, and a rumor claimed that carrying one of its fangs would ward off misfortune for a year. Everyone, without exception, desired to be the winner.

This year, the crown prince and the captain of the knights had joined as well. It was their first time participating in the tournament, but no one was worried. These two had survived far harsher battlegrounds.

“Everyone, stay sharp. I’m going to win.”

Yuria chimed in. She had abandoned her usual dress in favor of a snug riding outfit, her long hair tied up tightly with a leather cord—a determined look on her face.

“Quite the spirit.”

Alexis smiled as he turned to look at her.

“Why don’t you stay in the tent like a good girl?”

“See that? Claude always says things like that!”

“What did I do now?”

“I’m participating too! His Highness gave me permission!”

Their sibling-like bickering made Alexis’s smile deepen.

“Claude, let her come along. Otherwise, she’ll whine about it for months.”

“Whine? I never did such a thing!”

“Just don’t cause trouble. Stay right by my side, understood?”

Claude gave Yuria a warning. Despite his gruff tone, his eyes kept scanning her attire. Seeing her bootlaces loosely tied, he clicked his tongue and bent down to tie them himself.

Alexis watched them fondly, then turned his gaze away.

Behind the participants’ camp fluttered thin, translucent linen cloth. It marked the area where the spectators had gathered.

Under the leisurely tents sat elegant noblewomen, noblemen who weren’t taking part in the hunt, and the Emperor and Empress themselves.

To them, the tournament was nothing more than entertainment. Under the warm sun, they enjoyed fine food and wine while making wagers on who today’s winner would be.

“This year’s a tough one. Very well, I’ll place my bet on Alexis.”

The Emperor handed over a wooden token engraved with his name.

“Well, no wonder the Crown Prince’s pouch is already full. In that case, I’ll bet on Baron Patrick.”

A nearby noble, grinning broadly, handed over his name token as well. One by one, the others began joining in on the betting.

“Cecil, who will you bet on?”

The Emperor asked Cecil, who had been quietly sipping sherry alone, saying not a single word since arriving at the hunting ground. At last, Cecil forced a smile.

“I’m not sure yet. I think I need a little more time to think.”

Even as he said that, his eyes remained fixed on the pouch bearing Alexis’s name. So many had bet on the Crown Prince that the velvet pouch was stuffed to the brim, name tags nearly spilling out.

But Cecil already knew who would win today.

Contrary to everyone’s expectations, Alexis would not claim victory. He would be seriously injured trying to save Yuria and withdraw halfway through.

Cecil rose from his seat and personally placed his wooden name tag into a pouch. Then he carefully scanned the area around him.

Leo, who had been quietly waiting at the edge of the tent for his master’s orders, gave a firm nod. In his arms was a wine bottle Cecil had brought separately from the imperial palace.

Cecil walked off quietly, leaving the tent and heading toward the area where the participants were gathered. There, he approached a young noble commanding an unusually large number of attendants.

“Lord Rowen.”

“Ah, Lord Cecil.”

“How are your preparations? I came to offer encouragement.”

Baron Rowen struck a dramatic pose with a hand on his hip. His newly tailored hunting suit shimmered in rich crimson—clearly a luxury item.

“As you can see, everything’s perfect. I’ve been preparing for today.”

“Then I wish you victory. I placed my bet on you, after all.”

“Truly? Haha, then I must win—for your sake, Lord Cecil! I’ll make sure to present you with the basilisk’s fang myself!”

Rowen threw his head back and laughed so loudly his throat was visible, drawing attention from nearby.

Cecil masked his annoyance behind his trademark smiling eyes.

As if a brat like you could ever win. It was true that Rowen was a skilled rider and archer among the nobles, but he wouldn’t be the victor either.

He was, in fact, the one responsible for Alexis’s injury. Following the Empress’s secret orders, he would shoot a poisoned arrow at Yuria—an arrow Alexis would take in her place.

Cecil vividly remembered that the incident would be dismissed as a mere accident during the hunt and that Rowen wouldn’t face any punishment whatsoever.

“…I’m quite looking forward to it.”

He had to try hard not to glare at Baron Rowen. The only saving grace was that he already knew how the incident would unfold, which meant he could prevent it before it even happened.

“Leo.”

He gestured, calling for his attendant. Leo, who had been waiting just a few steps away, hurried over as soon as he was summoned.

“I’d like to offer a glass of wine in honor of your victory—if that’s all right?”

“But of course. It would be an honor.”

Rowen bent one knee and gave an exaggerated bow of thanks. Cecil scoffed and personally poured the wine.

The crystal glass filled with deep crimson wine. Though they were on the verge of an important competition, among nobles who drank wine like water, this much was no more than a palate cleanser.

As Cecil handed him the full glass with all due courtesy, Rowen emptied it without hesitation. He even licked the residue from his lips, as if savoring the flavor.

“The wine from the palace is truly on another level. The bouquet is exquisite—it’s simply divine.”

“I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it.”

Cecil then flipped the bottle upside down. Wine trickled out from the long neck, staining the ground red.

“Oh, but that’s such a fine wine…!”

“Didn’t I say? It’s a drink for wishing victory. Traditionally, you’re supposed to drink just one glass and pour the rest out for the goddess of the earth. She’ll drink this offering and bless you with the strength to win.”

With that, Cecil ensured that the evidence was completely destroyed. The sleeping draught hidden in the wine now remained only in Rowen’s stomach. The dosage had been quite strong; in about ten minutes, even a man of Rowen’s build would be helplessly overtaken by drowsiness.

“I didn’t expect you to go to such lengths for me.”

“You serve Her Majesty the Empress with great devotion. I’m simply doing my duty as her son in return. I trust you’ll bring back good results.”

A subtle exchange passed between their eyes. Rowen, catching the nuance of Cecil’s words, gave a knowing, sly smile.

“You can rely on me. I will not disappoint Her Majesty—or you, Lord Cecil.”

Rowen pressed a kiss to the back of Cecil’s hand, as if in reverence. The slick feel of his lips made Cecil’s skin crawl, but he held his picturesque smile and let Rowen do as he pleased.

In the distance, the sound of a horn rang out. The hunt was about to begin. Rowen turned away, buoyed with confidence, and mounted his sturdy horse. Once he was out of sight, Cecil turned his back on the scene.

The smile that had adorned his face vanished like a lie. His usual aloof, sharp countenance returned as he casually swept his gaze over the area.

“……”

Far off, he could see Alexis, Claude, and Yuria already mounted on horseback. Though the distance was considerable, Alexis stood out sharply even from afar.

Strangely, Cecil felt that Alexis’s gaze was turned toward him. His expression, no doubt, would be the same as always—cold and unreadable. Cecil stopped in place and looked toward where Alexis was.

Alexis. I wish for your victory. Let me bear all the disgrace and filth—may you live always in glory.

Please, just come back safely this time.