The Price of Trust

“You don’t need to know.”

“Damn… is it an illusion? When did he…”

Eck felt his limbs go numb. Even he, as slow as he was, knew he had fallen into a trap. If he mishandled this, he might die here tonight.

He was certain now: the man before him was not Frank, and the guards surrounding him were definitely not the royal palace’s men.

“Where is Frank?”

“You mean Second Prince Frank? He’s still at the banquet, drinking tea and chatting with the guests… With the first heir murdered, the biggest suspect would naturally be the Second Prince. He has to ensure he has an alibi.”

Before the man finished speaking, Eck felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave. He had still clung to a sliver of hope, but now he knew there was no escape.

‘So it really was Frank’s scheme… To gain the throne, you would go this far?’

Eck realized that, barring a miracle, he had only minutes left to live. In that final moment, a gentle, sweet voice echoed in his ears:

“…When Second Brother handles affairs, Eck, you never bother to ask…?”

His sister’s words, both real and illusory, reverberated in his mind.

Eck was stunned at first, then gave a bitter smile.

‘So, Cecilia, you already saw it… So I was the only fool…’

He felt a pang of regret. The enemy’s blade was already at his neck, and only now did he finally understand his sister’s warning.

“Enough. We’ve stalled long enough. Do it.”

The fake royal guards surged forward and firmly seized the First Prince.

Eck did not resist. Among the assassins, he could sense multiple Transcendents. No matter how he struggled or screamed, there was no hope of rescue.

Accepting his death calmly, without despair, he spoke softly:

“Allow me one final question. That medicine Frank mentioned—the one that could cure Cecilia—is it real…?”

The assassin leader paused, looking at Eck with a complex expression.

“Sigh. How could it be real? It was just an excuse to lure you out.”

“I see… Thank you for telling me the truth.”

The First Prince’s eyes went completely dark.

“I’m sorry, Cecilia. I might be leaving…”

In the face of death, Eck maintained the dignity and composure befitting a royal. He did not lose his poise.

The assassin leader sighed again.

“Should I call you foolish, or… Forget it. Let you die with clarity. The Princess’s illness was orchestrated by the Second Prince himself. Do you think he would actually seek a cure?”

“Frank… He did it? Cecilia’s illness—he caused it?”

Eck mechanically repeated those words.

Then, as if a final burst of life, Eck began to struggle wildly, his strength so great that even the Transcendents nearly lost their grip.

All traces of the prince’s usual grace vanished. His eyes were bloodshot, his glasses fissured. Like a dying beast, he roared:

“Animal! She is your sister! Our sister! How could you, beast, do this?!”

“Bastard! Vermin! Venomous snake!”

“Frank! I am waiting for you! Even if I ascend to heaven, I will descend to hell and wait for you, sinner!”

His heart-wrenching cries seemed to transcend space, meant for the executioner sitting serenely in the banquet hall.

“Do it! Now! Kill him!”

A blade pierced Eck’s throat. His roar turned into a wheezing breath. His struggling body grew weak, then slumped.

After confirming the First Prince’s death, the leader did not dispose of the body. Instead, he laid it flat on the ground, crossing its hands over its chest.

After quietly reciting a few scripture verses over the body, the leader gave the order to retreat. The group disappeared swiftly into the night.

After running a considerable distance, the assassins finally stopped at a hideout the Second Prince had prepared for them.

During the rest, one assassin laughed, “I didn’t expect the mission to go so smoothly. It was almost effortless. And we prepared so many backup plans.”

Truth be told, the assassin leader hadn’t anticipated that the heir to the world’s strongest nation would be so easy to kill.

With the Second Prince as their insider, the difficulty of the assassination was greatly reduced, but still, it was too smooth.

“In my opinion, it’s because the First Prince was too foolish. He fell for it so easily.”

“Exactly. If everyone in the Three Islands Kingdom is this stupid, they might as well give up their world hegemony now.”

The leader couldn’t bear to hear any more and snapped, “Shut up! Have you forgotten who you are? As clergy, have you forgotten the most basic respect for the dead?”

The assassin who had mocked the First Prince immediately lowered his head in shame. “Yes, Your Eminence, you are right…”

The assassin leader—no, the Bishop of the Divine War Church, cleared his throat and addressed the monks beside him:

“The reason he fell for it so easily was that his anxiety to save his sister clouded his judgment.

“To die for a loved one—what is there to mock?

“Rather, it is we who exploited his noble character who deserve mockery and scorn.”

The monks were silent. Not one dared to lift their head.

The bishop could not shake the image of Eck calmly accepting death and his final desperate roar to protect his sister.

“Sigh. If he had been a follower of our Lord, I am sure the Lord would have admired his courage.”

Frankly, the bishop disliked underhanded methods like assassination. He even considered this mission a stain on his record.

But for the Church’s grand plan, he believed it was worth it.

With Eck dead, Frank would surely ascend the throne.

And that ambitious king was a complete hegemonist, always dreaming of “Making the Three Islands Great Again.”

Under his rule, the Three Islands Kingdom would undoubtedly adopt a tougher, more aggressive stance abroad.

When the world’s strongest nation becomes more belligerent, it would inevitably exacerbate the already tense international situation… and then the war the Church had been planning for a century would be more likely to break out!

And when that day comes, the Church would offer the God of War a conflagration that would burn across the world—the largest war in history.

The Pope called this holy war the World War.

Both Europa and the new continent across the ocean would be engulfed. Hundreds of millions of civilians and tens of millions of soldiers would become actors pleasing the God of War in a grand drama called “War.”

And then, for such a great offering, what divine gifts would He bestow upon them, His devout followers?

Just imagining the scene made the bishop tremble with excitement.