To ensure everything was foolproof, Alan began searching through the crowd for the “important figures” he had specifically invited.
Soon, he found his target in an inconspicuous corner.
Guillaume Saint-Clair, Grand Master of the Heresy Inquisition, was speaking in low tones, giving instructions to Victor and the other Inquisitors.
“Alan! Over here! Over here!”
Standing behind Victor, Anna was the first to spot him.
She was busy devouring a bag of roasted chestnuts and excitedly raised her small hand, waving it vigorously.
Today, the members of the Inquisition had swapped their usual attire for civilian clothes.
Anna wore a lace-trimmed dress Sophia had picked out for her.
Combined with her bulging cheeks full of food, she looked like a cute hamster.
The other Inquisitors were also dressed respectably, but Alan could tell at a glance that their outer coats hid bulging silhouettes — they were definitely wearing combat uniforms underneath.
Given how muggy the air was, wearing two layers of clothing must have been exhausting.
The group followed Anna’s gaze and nodded in greeting to Alan.
Guillaume stepped forward with a smile. “Lord Laval, the protagonist has finally arrived. Everyone is waiting to see your brilliant performance.”
Alan shot Maryan a look. She nodded in understanding and turned toward the most prominent newspaper peddler at the edge of the field — a mole planted by the Intelligence Department.
“Comrade Guillaume, what’s the situation?” Alan ignored the teasing and got straight to the point.
Guillaume’s expression turned solemn. “All our people are in position. If any heretics or evil creatures appear, we can evacuate the civilians and join the battle immediately.”
Well before the duel began, Alan had informed the Inquisition that there might be two groups of uninvited guests today.
The first was the “Star Listener.” It was here to help weaken the Evil God’s influence on Livia, but in essence, it was still an enemy of humanity.
Alan didn’t mind stabbing it in the back after it finished helping.
The second group consisted of the Evil God and its followers.
They would never miss such a dramatic duel and might even intervene personally to stir up trouble.
If this highly anticipated duel ended up wiping out the noble lords who came to watch the spectacle, the chaos would be catastrophic.
To prevent this, the Inquisition had mobilized almost its entire force, even moving some heavy equipment near the arena in advance.
“Very good. This time, we will surely thwart the Evil God’s conspiracy.”
“It all depends on your wisdom.” Guillaume looked toward the thin mist blanketing the Royal Capital, instinctively wary.
“However, my Lord, this mist… something feels wrong about it. Have you noticed anything?”
Alan caught a whiff of the strange, foul smell in the air — a mixture of decay and cloying sweetness. It reminded him of air pollution incidents in industrial history.
But for such a mist to appear in an era without industrialization was indeed incredibly suspicious.
He immediately thought of the Flesh Priest who was still at large and said in a heavy voice, “There is an evil aura. I suspect… the cult might be performing some kind of wicked ritual.”
“What do you think will happen?”
“A plague,” Alan uttered the word. “A plague created by the Evil God, infused with supernatural power.”
He remembered the Royal Capital plague incident from the original game and the monsters known as “Plague Walkers.”
Back then, the capital had been shrouded in a similar eerie mist.
‘Is the plot happening ahead of schedule?’
The word “plague” made Guillaume furrow his brows tightly.
“Understood. We will begin making arrangements immediately. Our strength alone may not be enough; we will need the full assistance of the Church this time.”
“And the ‘Children of the Dawn’ and the worker pickets,” Alan added.
“Indeed.” Guillaume took the hint.
If a “biochemical crisis” truly broke out in the capital, the combined forces of the Church, the Inquisition, and the influence Alan had planted in the city’s lower depths would be enough to build a strict prevention and control network instantly.
“By the way, if the Star Listener shows up, how do you plan to deal with it? It has already become an indescribable existence. My power might hurt it, but destroying it will require more preparation.”
“Do not worry.” Guillaume gave a mysterious smile. “We have prepared a ‘big gun’ for this occasion.”
“Alright, then I’m relieved.” Alan nodded. “Everything that needs to be arranged is settled. It’s time to begin.”
“Good luck, Comrade Alan,” Victor said solemnly.
“Alan, after you finish fighting, let’s go eat BBQ tonight!” Anna shouted happily.
“Lord Envoy, victory shall belong to you.” The other Inquisitors also paid their respects.
Having accepted everyone’s blessings, Alan felt a deeper sense of peace.
“Thank you, everyone,” he said with a smile.
Alan was afraid his father and the butler would be caught in the crossfire of the battle, so he had specifically instructed them to stay home and wait for the good news.
But here, he had the support of the Inquisition, the eyes of the Children of the Dawn, and the elites of the “Lily Guards” lying in ambush nearby.
Behind him stood countless people who had gathered because of him. They were his firmest support.
And behind Livia, even Maryan was no longer there.
She was all alone.
How ironic. In the previous loop, he was the one who went to his death alone while Livia was surrounded by thousands.
In this life, it had completely reversed.
“Maryan, let’s go. Go watch your master’s heroic figure.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Having gathered the intelligence, Maryan returned to Alan’s side and walked with him toward the entrance of the knight’s arena.
“Which big shots are here today?”
“Our people spotted the royal carriage. It should be Crown Prince Charlie and Princess Charlotte. Also… there are people from the Church.”
“The Church?” Alan was taken aback. “Did Archbishop Lucian come too? That seems excessive for just a duel.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one answering that? Who was the one who made such a big scene?” Maryan gave him a sidelong glance.
“This is going to be hard to wrap up,” Alan said with a wry smile.
When the two arrived at the entrance, it was already a sea of people, blocked so tightly that not a drop of water could leak through.
Alan cleared his throat and shouted with all his might:
“Coming through! Coming through! Please make way!”
“Who do you think you are! Don’t you know how to wait your turn!”
The person waiting in line in front of them turned back impatiently, ready to snap, but his voice died in his throat the moment his eyes swept over the person behind Alan.
That iconic, smooth black hair, those unusual crimson eyes, that exquisite maid outfit, and that beautiful face…
In the entire Royal Capital, the only person who met all those characteristics and would appear in this place…
“It’s Maryan!” someone in the crowd cried out.
In an instant, the crowd erupted.
“Black hair and red eyes… it really is her! That maid!”
“Then the man next to her… isn’t that Alan de Laval?”
“The noble son who made the public confession?”
With a buzz, the noisy crowd fell eerily silent for a moment, followed by an even more surging tide of whispers.
Countless gazes, a mix of curiosity, scrutiny, and awe, focused on Alan.
This was the young master of the Laval family who had caused such a stir in the city?
He looked decent enough, but could he really defeat the kingdom’s hero?
In the next second, the crowded mass of people actively split to the sides, forcing open a path that led straight to the entrance.
“Thank you.” Alan accepted this special treatment without a change in expression, even nodding gracefully to the crowd.
Among the commoners, some who had witnessed his confession even cheered for him loudly.
“Master Alan, good luck!”
“Lady Livia is waiting for you! Defeat her and take her home as your wife!” a man with a booming voice roared, drawing a burst of good-natured laughter.
“The Stern family treats her poorly, so you have to treat her well! She is a hero to all of us!”
“Yeah! That’s right!”
Suddenly, an ill-timed voice screeched, “Miss Maryan! You must never develop any strange relationship with Lady Livia! Your master will cry!”
“I will not!”
Alan and Maryan barked back in unison.
However, while one was thinking, ‘Why the hell would I cry?’ the other was thinking, ‘The Young Master and I are the match made in heaven.’
The two glanced at each other and then looked away, both feeling a bit guilty.
Walking through the crowd, Alan stepped into the deep tunnel leading to the arena.
The light dimmed abruptly, and the external clamor was cut off by thick stone walls, leaving only the sound of his and Maryan’s footsteps echoing in the empty space.
“Young Master,” Maryan suddenly spoke.
“Hmm?”
“If you and Livia end up together… I won’t be jealous.”
“First of all, that hypothesis isn’t valid.” Alan didn’t stop, letting out a light chuckle. “Secondly, are you sure you won’t? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“This is already the biggest concession I can make, you idiot.” Maryan huffed softly and stopped at a fork in the tunnel. “I can only take you this far.”
“Alright.”
Alan took a deep breath and walked alone toward the blinding light at the end of the tunnel.
When he took the final step, a wave of sound like a mountain collapsing or a tsunami hitting the shore swallowed him instantly.
Thick, viscous dark clouds pressed heavily over the city, making the sky as dim as dusk.
Only a single beam of light stubbornly tore through the clouds, precisely projecting onto the center of the massive knight’s arena, forming a circular spotlight on the stage.
It was so holy it felt like the gaze of a god.
Alan squinted his eyes instinctively.
Before him was a vast field of yellow sand, surrounded by layer upon layer of endless spectator seats.
Noble heraldic banners and the royal fleur-de-lis flags snapped in the wind.
For a moment, Alan felt a sense of daze.
He felt as though he had returned to the end of the last loop, walking toward his destiny under the gaze of thousands.
Only this time, he was no longer alone.
And his opponent, Livia, was already standing in the center of that light.
She still wore the traveling cloak that masked her form, wrapping herself tightly. Her hood was down, and her eyes were closed.
The mountain-like roars of discussion and the weight of the thousands of gazes seemed to have nothing to do with her. She was like a solitary iceberg.
As if sensing Alan’s gaze, Livia’s body moved slightly.
She slowly raised her hand and removed her hood.
A mane of brilliant, pale gold hair cascaded down instantly, shimmering with a dazzling luster under the light.
That exquisite face, enough to make the entire kingdom fall in love, was revealed without reservation before tens of thousands of people.
In the stands, the clamor that had lasted for so long experienced an eerie, one-second pause.
Countless people held their breath.
Livia tossed her long hair, and her azure eyes gazed calmly at Alan.
Alan looked back at Maryan. Their gazes met in the air, and she gave him an encouraging look.
He withdrew his gaze and stepped forward, walking step by step, firmly toward the center of the field, toward the nemesis he had chased through countless lives.
The two stopped ten steps apart.
“My dear fiancée,” Alan’s face broke into his signature, slightly mocking villainous smile, “I hope you’ve been well. I’ve come to kill you.”
“I am not your fiancée; I am your enemy.” Livia’s voice was as cold as ice, devoid of emotion. “So, let us end this.”
Her peripheral vision swept over the curious, excited, or malicious faces in the stands, where she even saw a few familiar ones — her father and her half-brothers.
What was supposed to be a simple duel had somehow been made known to everyone.
Livia, who had wanted to resolve everything quietly, had a rare trace of subtle irritation in her tone.
“Also… I hate you.”
“Oh?” Alan turned on his usual banter mode with great interest.
“In all those loops, this is the first time you’ve said that to me. What, has the favored daughter of the heavens finally tasted the humiliation of an underdog? Is this the first time you’ve experienced being watched by tens of thousands, being treated like the protagonist of a play? Does it make you happy to be pushed to this point by a ‘small fry’ like me?”
Livia was not provoked.
On the contrary, her tone suddenly became exceptionally gentle, and the corners of her mouth even curved into a smile as moving as a young girl’s.
“Alan de Laval.”
She whispered his name softly.
“Why… did you always hide from me before?”
“Could it be…” She tilted her head, her blue eyes seemingly able to see through a person’s heart. “You like me?”
‘I like you? What the—’
Alan was about to instinctively retort, but in that very instant, his [Future Sight] was triggered violently!
A crystal-clear image flashed through his mind: Livia’s figure closed in like a ghost, and a cold flash of a sword went by.
His own head was already flying off his neck.
There was no time to think!
His combat instincts reacted before his consciousness did.
Clang!
Alan jerked the black sword from his waist, putting all his strength into holding it horizontally before him.
In the next heartbeat, a seemingly ordinary rapier, carrying a shriek that tore through the air, slammed heavily against his blade with the force of ten thousand pounds.
Sparks exploded!
Livia had somehow rushed in front of him. Their faces were inches apart, their breaths mingling.
A strange, ethereal fragrance drifted into Alan’s nostrils, causing his mind to sway for a moment, nearly drowning in it.
‘Something’s wrong!’
Alarm bells rang in Alan’s mind. He instantly broke free from the charm, his back already soaked in a cold sweat.
He had blocked it.
If he had been 0.1 seconds slower, his head would be gone.
In the stands, the vast majority of people hadn’t even reacted to what had happened; they only saw Livia’s silhouette blur for a moment.
The highly anticipated duel had begun in the most perilous way possible, without any warning.