Chapter 254: The Interrupted Wedding

Jon stood still as William staggered upright, fury dancing in his eyes. "If you didn't use magic, then what were those crescent-shaped swordsmanship? No ordinary sword technique could cause that kind of effect!"

Jon stared at him, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Ignorant fool. When one's martial prowess reaches its pinnacle, one's will can manifest in physical form. Can't believe you don't even know something that basic."

Gasps rippled through the audience. Even the king looked skeptical. This so-called "basic" was clearly unheard of in this kingdom.

Of course, they hadn't heard of it. This world didn't have breathing techniques, and Jon had completely made that explanation up. The technique wasn't powered by magic, so even seasoned mages or witches couldn't sense anything unnatural.

Jon glanced at the royal mage standing behind the throne. "Ask your court mage if he sensed any magic in my swordsmanship."

The king turned to the elderly mage, who slowly shook his head. "No traces of magic, your majesty."

This man, Mage Alfred, was the kingdom's most esteemed mage. If even he couldn't sense magic, then Jon must have been telling the truth.

William, now visibly cornered, had nothing to say.

Jon turned away, snorting. "And here I thought you'd at least have the guts to swallow your sword like you promised. If Her Highness married someone like you, it would be a national disgrace."

Enraged, William's eyes narrowed. Seeing Jon's back turned, he made a reckless decision. All reason fled.

With a growl, he raised his sword and lunged to strike Jon down from behind.

The crowd froze. None had expected such cowardice from a noble. Only one voice broke the silence.

"Look out!" cried the witch.

But Jon was already moving. He turned and shouted, "Watch closely, Barehanded Blade Catch!"

With a swift crouch and perfectly timed motion, Jon caught the sword between his palms, stopping it cold.

William's face twisted in disbelief. He had relied on this sword to slay a dragon, yet Jon had stopped it barehanded.

He pushed harder, trying to break Jon's grip, but the sword wouldn't budge.

Jon's strength was monstrous.

"Let go!" William roared, yanking at the weapon.

"Sure," Jon said lightly.

As William pulled, Jon suddenly released his grip. William staggered backward, flailing, and fell flat on his back.

Laughter rippled through the crowd. William scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with humiliation. He'd made a fool of himself in front of nobles, soldiers, the princess, and the king.

He glared at Jon, seething with hatred, but powerless.

The king let out a long sigh. William had destroyed his own reputation. There was no way he could now wed the princess without scandal.

Jon turned and addressed the king. "Your Majesty, as you witnessed, this man is not only weak but dishonorable. Letting your daughter marry him would be an insult to the throne."

William trembled with rage, but couldn't speak. He wanted nothing more than to attack again, but fear and shame rooted him in place.

The king shook his head. Even if he'd once considered William a worthy suitor, that hope had crumbled.

"The ball is concluded," the king announced.

But something shifted. The witch and the princess exchanged glances.

The witch clenched her fists. She had tried to let go, to walk away, but now, watching the court play with the princess's fate, the fire in her chest reignited.

She remembered the day the duke's men came to the forest to retrieve the princess. Elysia had resisted, but the witch had convinced her to go.

The witch had always believed she didn't deserve Elysia. The princess was beloved, radiant. She was also a beauty for of course, but a forest-dwelling outcast as per for her thoughts.

But today changed everything. She saw clearly now: the palace would never bring Elysia happiness. The king had nearly traded her away without care. No wonder Elysia had preferred the forest for all those years.

If this was what nobility looked like, then she would defy it.

If no one else would protect Elysia's happiness, then she would.

Even if she had to steal it.

Then, the witch slowly lifted her hand and removed her golden mask, revealing a face of breathtaking beauty beneath. Then she took off her hat, letting waves of chestnut-brown hair fall freely down to her waist.

Her face was pale—eerily so. A sign of deep wounds. Watching her reveal herself so openly, Elysia's eyes widened in shock. It was the first time she had seen the witch bare her face in public.

The witch offered the princess a faint smile. And then, black mist began to rise from her body.

"Witch… A witch!" one of the king's senior advisors stammered in alarm. The man was none other than Karan, the royal court's mage, and by far the most powerful sorcerer in the kingdom.

The witch's body flickered, dissolving into shadow. In a single breath, she turned into a black wraith and darted straight toward the princess.

Dark mist enveloped Elysia, lifting her gently off the ground. Before anyone could react, the witch's phantom form wrapped her in a protective embrace, and took to the sky.

Gasps rippled through the stunned hall.

But one man's eyes lit up with sudden hope, Duke William.

If he could rescue the princess from the hands of a 'wicked' witch, he might still have a chance to win her… and the throne.

Without hesitation, William drew his rune sword and charged after them.

Only to be yanked back by a firm grip.

It was Jon, again.

"Easy there, Duke," Jon said with a cheeky grin. "Didn't I already flatten you earlier? I don't think you've quite recovered yet. Leave this to me."

Then he turned toward the window where the witch had escaped, shouting dramatically, "Halt, foul witch! Unhand the princess!"

He dashed off in theatrical pursuit.

A few minutes later, he returned, panting and looking thoroughly disappointed.

"Apologies, Your Majesty," he said with a bow. "She was too fast. I couldn't catch her."

The king waved it off. "It's no matter. She's just a minor witch. She won't escape the forest. I should have had her executed long ago, but my daughter begged for her life. Hmph."

Jon stepped forward, guilt written across his face. "Your Majesty, I take full responsibility. If I hadn't insisted on dueling Duke William earlier, none of this would've happened. Please… allow me to take on the rescue mission. I swear I'll bring the princess back safely."

William's face darkened, but he stepped in immediately. "Your Majesty, the blame lies with me. I failed to protect her. Please grant me the task, no one is better suited."

He wasn't going to lose this opportunity. If he could retrieve the princess, he might yet turn things to his advantage, even if the king refused his suit. He had… other plans.

Like returning the princess… after making her his, by force if necessary.

The king raised a brow. "Very well. Both of you will go. Whoever brings my daughter back first… shall be rewarded handsomely."

The word "first" was no accident. Nor was the promise of a reward.

The implication was clear: this was a race, and the prize was the princess herself.

Jon, of course, saw through the king's game instantly. The old man was treating his daughter like a pawn, bait for two ambitious men.

But that suited Jon just fine. This was his chance to dig deeper into William's secrets.

From the beginning, Jon had suspected something was off about the Duke. His strength far exceeded that of any normal human. That enchanted sword, too—something was wrong.

And if Jon had the opportunity, he'd kill William, extract his memories, and find out who was backing him. Whoever it was, odds were high they were linked to that mysterious blackstone trader.

He hadn't moved against him earlier for two reasons. First, he didn't want to raise alarm during the royal banquet. Second, he didn't want to create a mess right before his one-month 'mission' period in this dark fairy tale ended.

***

In the depths of the Forest, Elysia clung to the witch like a freed bird escaping a gilded cage. The dullness that had clouded her eyes for weeks was gone, replaced by radiant joy.

"Moon!" she cried, throwing her arms around the witch's waist.

The woman in the black dress, Moon, looked pale and fragile. But her expression was soft, full of warmth.

Then she began coughing violently.

"What's wrong?" Elysia asked, alarmed. She suddenly remembered feeling something wet on Moon's back during their earlier dance, blood. Moon had wings once. Now… they were gone.

"It's nothing," Moon whispered with a faint smile. "I just need to brew a few potions."

"I'll help you," Elysia said eagerly. "Together. Just like old times."

Moon gave her a tender look and led the way toward a hidden tree hollow.

But inside, she was deeply worried. She knew what her actions would invite, royal retaliation.

And as a cursed witch, she couldn't leave the Forest.

***

The next day, Duke William led dozens of elite knights into the forest, ready to kill the witch and reclaim the princess by force.

But as they ventured deeper into the mist, a lone rider appeared on horseback, blocking their path.

William's heart sank. It was him again.

"Sir. Jon! What the hell do you want now?" William barked, eyes burning with hatred.

Jon gave a lazy wave. "Come on, Duke. Did you forget? We're rivals now. The king said whoever brings the princess back first gets the prize. You really think I'm going to let you get ahead?"

William seethed. He'd handpicked the best knights in his duchy, yet this guy had the nerve to challenge him alone?

"You think you can stop all of us by yourself?" he snarled.

Jon shrugged. "Guess we'll find out."

"Kill him!" William snapped.

His knights charged, but halted just short of Jon.

Something was wrong.

They trembled. Their horses trembled.

None could move.

It felt like an invisible mountain had been dropped on their backs—an unbearable pressure that crushed even their breath.

William's shout died in his throat.

And Jon stood still, smiling.

Unbothered.