The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

Was I encountering these unknown characters because I’d altered the story so much?

Honestly, it felt unfair.

Sure, I’d made some changes behind the scenes, but I hadn’t twisted the plot so much that I’d replaced the protagonist, nor had I tried to court any of the heroines like in other transmigration stories.

Okay, fine. I could understand why the Emperor might show up. I’d proven myself capable, and it made sense he’d want to personally support his skilled daughter.

As for Lena, well, after the chaos I’d caused on the northern front, sending her to keep an eye on me wasn’t unreasonable.

But... who was this?

Even if the kingdom was perceptive, there was no way they’d immediately know Verati had been captured and was spilling all her secrets. Northwood was deep within the Empire, far from the kingdom’s reach.

Even if they’d somehow discovered it, mobilizing reinforcements to get here would take time... and you needed a relic to enter this dungeon.

Yet, no light shone from the figure’s cloak, as would be expected if they carried a relic.

"I’ve tried to initiate a conversation several times now, but they haven’t responded," the Emperor said with his usual calm.

I gave him a sideways glance. He either didn’t have any information on this figure, or he simply didn’t want to share it. He only shrugged nonchalantly.

"But one thing is certain," the Emperor continued, eyeing the mysterious figure. "The relic that should have been here is now in their possession. We won’t get it back unless we defeat them."

So, was this why the Emperor had waited at the entrance, blocking their escape? 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

If their goal was to acquire the relic, they could have tried to avoid a confrontation and fled. But they’d stayed in place, unmoving, until we arrived.

"..."

I took a step forward.

The figure remained utterly still, watching us. Was it even alive? Could it be a statue, placed here by the Emperor to mess with us? They stood as motionless as stone.

As I stepped forward, the others did as well, spreading out into a semicircle around the figure, closing in. Though there was space between us, we formed a loose perimeter.

Bella was the first to act.

With a flick of her wrist, she transformed her longsword into a whip, lashing it toward the figure like an executioner striking down a criminal. The blade was far more dangerous than a regular whip; if it struck, it would rip through flesh and even expose bone.

Finally, the figure moved.

They charged forward—straight at me.

"Sylvia...!" Alice called out instinctively, and I heard the rapid footsteps of Claire from her side.

I also intended to act—

—or so I thought—

No.

As I raised the shotgun to aim, an intense feeling echoed in my mind.

No, it wasn’t a sound—it was as though my instincts themselves seized control, forcing me to stop.

Don’t shoot.

If I pulled the trigger, I would—

—regret it.

A chill ran down my spine, and my finger, frozen on the trigger, convulsed as if someone were holding it back.

My own body was rejecting my movements.

“Sister, don’t...!” Claire shouted as the figure lunged toward me, her sword trailing behind her in a flash.

Half a beat slower than her swing, the sword aura followed—

It should have—

Should’ve connected.

---

What... just happened?

Claire’s sword had been on target, and her skillful sword aura should have struck the figure’s arm.

It should have. There was no way they could have avoided it. Even I saw it clearly.

But the sword aura didn’t connect.

"Wha...?" I heard Claire’s bewildered voice.

The figure kept moving forward, their abdomen pressed against the barrel of my shotgun. They pushed forward with such strength that my arms began to buckle, forcing the shotgun downward.

My fingers, still stiff from hesitation, began to loosen, one by one, as if by force.

The shotgun fell from my grip entirely as the figure leaned in closer, almost as if they intended to embrace me—though their movements were anything but friendly.

The white mask drew near, closer to my face.

Inside the dark eyeholes, I could see—

A whoosh of wind—was it Alice’s sword? Bella’s whip? I wasn’t sure. My head wouldn’t turn.

Through the shadowed eyeholes, a glimmer of a human eye caught my gaze.

"Syl—v—i—a."

The voice stretched unnaturally, as though the words were lagging.

It felt like this figure and I were somehow out of sync.

In that moment, before they finished speaking, Claire barreled into them, tackling the figure aside.

---

Again, my vision flickered, like a frame cut from a film, and I was staring in a different direction. I could still hear the distorted voice, as if it was right next to me, muffled by the mask.

Claire’s tackle missed, and she stumbled, digging her heels into the ground with a scraping sound.

"—Never—"

Never what...?

But before I could hear the rest—

"—!"

The figure was struck by Alice’s shoulder and sent flying to the side.

"Are you okay?!"

Before I could even process what had happened, Alice’s face filled my vision, concern written on her face. I must have been falling; Alice had caught me mid-fall.

"I’m fin—"

But before I could finish, the figure reappeared behind Alice as if they’d materialized from thin air. The longsword in their hand was gone, replaced by a revolver.

A revolver identical to mine.

It bore the scars from our previous battles, scuffed and scratched.

But... I hadn’t brought that one today—

Before I could react, a massive, towering sword aura cleaved down from the ceiling, its blade grazing the walls and floor. Where it should have severed the figure’s hand cleanly, there was nothing.

Yet, in the same instant, they still held the gun.

I clenched my jaw.

Again!

---

The air shattered with a deafening crack.

My head throbbed painfully, as though I’d collided with a wall at high speed, a piercing ring reverberating in my ears. My brain felt scrambled, as if it had been shaken to its core.

My vision blurred. Tears stung my eyes.

I felt a grip on my collar, something firm as if trying to hold me back.

A pale hand reached out from beyond, dragging me through fractured space.

The jagged edges of the broken space were sharp, like shards of glass. Even as blood flowed from the arm gripping me, the hand persisted.

But... it seemed I was too heavy for the arm to hold onto.

With a tear, my collar ripped free.

I fell.

---

"Sylvia!"

I gasped, taking in air as if I’d been underwater for too long. The fresh rush of oxygen cleared my vision.

I found myself lying across someone’s lap.

Blinking a few times, my vision sharpened as the residual tears rolled down my cheeks.

Hovering over me, faces etched with worry, were Alice and Claire.

I instinctively reached up to touch my collar.

The fabric felt torn, its rough edges confirming what I already feared.

It had been real. Not just a nightmare.

I tried to sit up, but Claire pressed firmly on my shoulders, gently easing me back onto Alice’s lap.

"Where is that... person?"

"Gone."

It was the Emperor who answered.

"They vanished the moment you fell."

"And the fight...?"

"A fight?" The Emperor’s voice carried an amused lilt.

"Did we really fight that figure?"

"..."

To the Emperor’s question, I had no answer.