Incitement

“What’s going on? Lord Hero and that Charlie are dueling?” “It’s supposedly over Lady Saintess… This’ll be good.” “Are you seriously gloating? Shouldn’t we be rooting for Lord Hero?” “Of course not! Lady Elia is our kingdom’s brightest jewel. What right does an outsider Hero have to take her away?” “Exactly! I don’t like Charlie either, but this time I’m all for him beating the Hero senseless!” “Lord Charlie, go for it—ptui, Lady Elia, go for it! Lady Elia forever!”

Exaggerated.

Watching the crowd swell around the training ground, Luke couldn’t help but marvel.

Faced with the scummy pinkette’s Oscar-worthy performance, Luke chose to honor her efforts and accepted the duel.

One, he was confident in his strength. Two… he was curious to see just how far this scummy pinkette would go.

“Is this a duel to the death?” “It was, but Lady Elia’s kind heart prevailed.

After her fervent pleas, they changed it to a regular match.” “As expected of Lady Elia—so compassionate.” “Honestly, I say let them kill each other and rid the kingdom of two pests… But that’d break Lady Elia’s heart. Ugh, why can’t we have it both ways?”

The current scene made it clear the pinkette was a marketing genius.

She knew people preferred compromise over extremes. When she suggested switching to a regular bout, the crowd cheered her wisdom and mercy… Yet few noticed she never truly tried to stop it—in fact, she’d fanned the flames.

Some did notice, but bizarrely, most saw it as proof of her innocence.

And far from feeling superior or mocking her, they only felt protective heartache—as if she were their cherished daughter, handled with utmost care.

But it didn’t end there.

The minority Luke deemed “normal” (or at least cunning) suspected she was acting.

Yet their conclusion? She was sacrificing for the greater good, the kingdom… using villainous cunning to fulfill a Saintess’s duty. So all they felt was admiration.

Luke was speechless from all the mind-reading. He knew she was trusted, but this cult-like devotion was… intriguing.

Yes, he was very intrigued to see their faces when her mask shattered—and what price she’d pay for her deception.

But one bite at a time. First priority: make her eat dirt… no, defeat the opponent.

“Lord Luke, I’m so sorry. This is all because of me, dragging you into this mess.”

Elia clearly shared his mindset. At the training ground, she’d first fake-pleaded with Charlie to calm down—while secretly stoking the fire.

Once enough spectators arrived, she switched to Luke’s side, ready to play the lovesick maiden fretting over her beloved before battle, making Luke even more hated.

“It’s fine. I’ll prove my innocence through combat.”

Luke stepped back, drawing a clear line while declaring hot-bloodedly.

[‘What the hell? Addicted to the act? Planning to play the hot-blooded idiot to the end?’]

Elia’s chibi frowned deeply. She wasn’t certain Luke was faking, but whether he was or not, her goal—driving him away—remained unchanged. Anything that displeased her deserved slander.

[‘Too bad. No matter how chivalrous you act, it’s useless.’]

Elia closed in. She wasn’t worried about Luke dodging again—once was proving innocence, twice was cold, thrice… heh, ungrateful.

“Lord Luke, Big Brother Charlie isn’t a bad person. He’s impulsive, but only because he cares for me like a little sister…”

She began stalling Luke by speaking well of his opponent. Luke had to admit—the initiative was entirely hers. Any extra move would only lower his reputation.

Unless—

“Don’t worry! I’ll definitely go easy on him!” Luke thumped his chest loudly enough for all to hear.

[‘Aaaah! You bastard, why shout so loud?!’]

Elia’s chibi jumped in shock.

When murmurs erupted, she inwardly cursed. Yes, she wanted Luke to obviously hold back, enraging prideful Charlie… But she was supposed to be the unseen puppet-master.

Now everyone knew it was her request. What if people thought the Saintess disrespected martial honor?

Hardly.

Luke smirked internally, ears perked.

Sure enough, after less than ten seconds of chatter, the narrative flipped to praising Elia’s kindness.

The sole exception? Charlie, whose killing intent skyrocketed.

Noticing this, Elia’s heart soared. [‘Wait, you’re on my side? Nice one!’]

Riding the momentum, she pressed the attack. “Lord Luke, thank you for understanding. But please prioritize your safety. Don’t let my earlier words cloud your judgment in battle…”

Her goal was to ruin Luke, but premise—nay, priority—was preserving her radiant Saintess image. She wanted to keep slacking in the kingdom. Thus, even against the doomed Luke, she refused any rumor tarnishing her persona. In short, she wanted Luke to count her money after she sold him.

“Thank you for your concern, Your Highness! I’ll be careful!” Luke boomed again, adding exaggerated grateful gestures.

The crowd praised her anew, but Elia sensed something off. Listening closer, she realized—while she gained praise, criticism of Luke was fading. Some even started siding with him.

Unacceptable!

Time for the ultimate move. She blushed like a lovestruck maiden. “Lord Luke… after the match, can we talk alone?”

In Elia’s mind, any man hearing a super-cute beauty like her say this would fantasize wildly, lose focus in battle from primal urges. At worst, he’d overreach to impress her and blunder.

But that only worked if he didn’t know her scheme—

“Don’t worry, Your Highness! I’ll give it my all!”

Luke answered with the force of launching a battleship.