Chapter 18: Two Predators, One Healer, and a Broken Captain 【Arc 1: I Was Expelled for Seducing the Enemy Princess】

Four Days Ago…

The official royal banquet was supposed to be a peaceful, elegant celebration of our rapidly approaching diplomatic breakthrough. It was meant to be a boring evening filled with polite political laughter, extremely dry roasted poultry, and incredibly long speeches about the historic alliance between the North and the South.

Instead of a diplomatic milestone, the banquet instantly transformed into an active, highly volatile, and utterly terrifying hostage situation that just happened to feature excellent silver cutlery.

I was sitting perfectly rigid in my excessively carved, incredibly uncomfortable heavy oak chair. I was currently wearing three suffocating, rigidly starched layers of ugly, thick cotton shirts. Gabriel had aggressively forced me into this absurd, heat-trapping outfit earlier in the evening in a desperate, deeply paranoid attempt to physically hide my collarbone and neck from any wandering royal eyes.

I was sweating so profusely under the grand crystal chandeliers that my innermost tunic was practically fused permanently to my spine.

Gabriel sat directly across the wide banquet table from me. He was officially and visibly losing his mind in real-time, completely unable to cope with the sheer, crushing reality of our diplomatic failure.

His left eye was twitching uncontrollably. It was not a subtle, exhausted flutter caused by lack of sleep. It was a violent, rhythmic, and highly visible spasm that looked exactly like a desperate Morse code signal meant to call in heavy artillery fire. He kept raising his expensive crystal wine glass to his mouth, but he was not actually drinking the vintage red wine. He was only using the wide rim of the glass to hide the undeniable fact that his lips were silently forming terrible, forbidden cursed words.

He simply could not keep Princess Diana away from me.

Despite Gabriel’s frantic, meticulously planned “Anti-Flirting Formation” and his desperate, last-minute attempts to heavily bribe the royal stewards to alter the seating chart, his efforts had been completely useless. Diana had simply commanded her terrified personal servants to physically pick up my heavy chair and move it until its wooden armrest was sitting completely flush against hers.

“You are barely touching your roasted pheasant, Takashi.”

Diana murmured the words softly into the tense air.

Her voice was a husky, melodic purr that sent a violent, freezing shiver of pure terror straight down the back of my neck. She leaned entirely into my personal space, completely ignoring every single established rule of royal etiquette. Her pristine, glowing white hair brushed heavily against my thick, padded cotton shoulder, carrying that intoxicating, incredibly dangerous scent of rare winter flowers.

“The southern envoys strictly maintain a highly regulated diet to preserve their delicate magical neutrality!”

Gabriel answered loudly, practically shouting his desperate excuse across the elegant table.

His voice was heavily laced with a frantic, cracking, and entirely fake diplomatic cheerfulness. He gripped his silver butter knife so hard that his knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white.

“He requires plain vegetables.”

Gabriel continued his frantic lie, nodding his head aggressively.

“Very boring, completely tasteless vegetables.”

He pointed his butter knife vaguely toward my plate.

“The absolute most uninteresting food naturally possible!”

Diana completely ignored his loud outburst. She did not even blink her stunning silver eyes. She slowly reached out with her polished silver fork and delicately, deliberately placed a prime, perfectly cooked cut of roasted meat directly onto the center of my pristine porcelain plate.

“You really need to keep your physical strength up.”

She whispered the command softly, her glowing silver eyes pinning me flawlessly to the heavy oak chair.

“You possess such a demanding, fascinating magical core.”

She leaned just a fraction of an inch closer, her lips dangerously near my ear.

“I can actually feel it humming for me.”

I stared down at the delicious roasted meat exactly like it was heavily laced with a lethal, fast-acting poison. My heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I was genuinely afraid the nearby northern nobles could hear the frantic rhythm.

Then, the massive, heavy oak doors at the far end of the grand banquet hall burst open, and my personal nightmare officially and disastrously doubled in size.

The Passive-Aggressive Battlefield

Lady Elara strode powerfully into the grand, brightly lit hall.

She was absolutely not wearing a delicate, flowing diplomatic gown like the rest of the high-ranking noblewomen in attendance. Instead, she wore a sleek, skin-tight formal combat doublet made of dark, expensive leather. She had highly polished, intimidating silver shoulder guards resting on her shoulders, and her raven-black hair was cascading down her back like a dark, dangerous waterfall.

She walked across the room with the supreme, terrifying predatory confidence of an apex predator effortlessly joining a helpless hunt. And her dark, incredibly lethal eyes locked instantly onto me before she was even halfway to our section of the table.

“Elara!”

Diana called out happily into the quiet hall.

Her voice was bright, cheerful, and entirely lacking in genuine warmth. It was the terrifying, perfectly crafted tone of a royal predator greeting a rival pack leader.

“You are dreadfully late.”

Diana gestured gracefully with her empty hand.

“Come sit right now. I deliberately saved you a wonderful spot right across from my new absolute favorite southern envoy.”

Elara’s heavy, metal-plated boots clicked rhythmically and menacingly against the polished marble floor as she approached us. She pulled out the ornate chair directly opposite my position. It was located exactly next to a currently hyperventilating Gabriel. She sat down with a heavy, deliberate metallic clink of her armor.

“My sincerest apologies, Diana.”

Elara said the words smoothly, resting her hands on the table.

Her deep, commanding voice was dripping with a dark, aggressively territorial amusement.

“I was rather busy reflecting on some highly entertaining past victories.”

She stared directly, unapologetically into my soul as she spoke. I instantly forgot how the basic human function of breathing was supposed to work. My lungs simply went on strike.

“It is truly wonderful to see Envoy Takashi again.”

Elara continued her verbal assault, casually leaning her armored elbows heavily onto the fine, imported linen tablecloth.

“He was such an incredibly attentive, dedicated host when I visited the southern territories two short summers ago.”

She offered me a sharp, dangerous smile that promised absolute destruction.

“His highly personal, hands-on services left quite a lasting, unforgettable impression on me.”

The ambient temperature in the massive, crowded banquet hall instantly plummeted to absolute zero.

Diana completely stopped moving. The bright, cheerful, and overwhelming energy radiating from the Princess vanished into thin air. It was replaced immediately by a terrifying aura of crushing, suffocating magical pressure. The air in the room grew so incredibly heavy that the expensive crystal wine glasses scattered across the table actually began to vibrate and hum with the suppressed energy.

“Oh?”

Diana’s voice was suddenly and terrifyingly polite.

It was exactly the specific kind of polite that usually preceded a violent, unannounced mass execution in the public square. She slowly turned her head to look directly at her absolute best friend.

“I was completely unaware that you two were already intimately acquainted.”

Diana narrowed her glowing silver eyes.

“Takashi is so wonderfully shy and innocent here with me.”

“He opens up quite beautifully in private.”

Elara smirked darkly, lazily reaching for an ornate silver goblet filled with dark wine.

She traced the metallic rim of the cup slowly with one leather-gloved finger, keeping her dark, highly competitive eyes fixed firmly on my terrified face.

“The South provides truly excellent, exceptionally hands-on hospitality.”

Elara took a slow, deliberate sip of her wine.

“Extremely thorough.”

I violently choked on my own perfectly normal saliva.

Gabriel practically threw his entire, heavily armored body halfway across the wide banquet table in a desperate, final attempt to intervene and save my life.

“The medical healer simply provides standard, highly regulated medical tours for all visiting foreign dignitaries!”

Gabriel yelled at the top of his lungs, completely abandoning all indoor voice protocols.

His voice cracked horribly, pitching up into a high, embarrassing squeak of pure mortal panic.

“It is a totally generic, entirely boring government service!”

He waved his hands frantically between the two terrifying women.

“He treats literally everyone exactly the same!”

He pointed at me as if I were a lifeless piece of furniture.

“He is basically an emotionless medical robot made of flesh!”

“Is that honestly so?”

Diana asked the question softly, not looking away from Elara.

Beneath the long, heavy linen tablecloth, out of sight from the rest of the royal court, Diana’s pale, elegant hand slid firmly and possessively onto my right knee. Her grip was immediately tight, possessing an unnatural, terrifyingly high level of physical strength for a supposedly delicate magical caster.

Directly across the table, Elara’s dark eyes narrowed instantly into dangerous, lethal slits.

She absolutely knew exactly what was happening below our line of sight. Her combat instincts were far too sharp to miss the subtle shift in my rigid posture. The aggressive, murderous tension flaring between the two supposed “best friends” was currently thick enough to deflect heavy broadswords.

They were actively treating me exactly like a prime, highly contested, and incredibly rare cut of magical meat at a ruthless underground butcher’s auction.

“Structural integrity of the wooden table is currently failing.”

Togashi stated the observation quietly from his assigned seat exactly two chairs down the line.

I slowly, fearfully looked down at the table surface. Diana’s other hand was gripping the thick edge of the mahogany table so incredibly hard that the heavy, expensive wood was actively splintering and groaning beneath her delicate, manicured fingernails.

I was absolutely going to die right here. I was going to be violently torn apart somewhere between the cream soup and the fresh salad course, and there was nothing the southern military could do to stop it.

The Breaking Point

We somehow barely managed to survive the agonizing dessert course without anyone actually drawing a lethal weapon.

The exact moment the aging Northern King raised his golden goblet to signal the official end of the royal banquet, Gabriel moved with the speed of a legendary assassin. He grabbed the thick back of my starched cotton collar and physically dragged me backward out of my chair. He marched us both in a panicked, aggressive lockstep all the way out of the grand hall, practically sprinting back to the isolated safety of the southern guest wing.

Once we were safely inside our assigned quarters, Gabriel violently slammed the heavy oak door shut. He threw the heavy iron deadbolt into place with a loud clank, and then he immediately shoved the massive, incredibly heavy wooden armoire directly in front of the door for good measure.

Then, the strongest paladin in our entire southern division finally, totally, and completely snapped.

He did not yell. He did not loudly pace the floor like he usually did.

He walked slowly, dragging his feet like a defeated zombie, over to the low wooden coffee table in the center of the room. He carefully picked up the thick, wax-sealed parchment scroll that contained our official, highly meticulous diplomatic schedule for the entire month.

He gripped the edges of the ancient parchment, and he tore the sacred royal document cleanly in half.

I watched in absolute, paralyzed horror as he silently placed the two torn halves together. He deliberately tore them again into jagged quarters. Then he stacked them and tore them into tiny eighths. He slowly opened his large hands and let the shredded, ruined pieces of the historic peace treaty flutter softly down onto the expensive patterned carpet like tragic, bureaucratic snow.

“Gabriel.”

I whispered his name, my voice trembling with profound dread.

“What in the name of the goddess are you doing?”

“It is completely over.”

Gabriel said the words softly to the empty air.

His voice was entirely hollow, devoid of any human emotion. The bright, heroic light of determination had entirely left his blue eyes, leaving behind only the dark void of absolute despair.

“The peace treaty is dead.”

He dropped the remaining tiny scraps of paper from his fingers.

“The diplomatic mission is dead.”

He looked up at the stone ceiling.

“We are officially dead.”

“Gabriel, please listen to me.”

I pleaded with him, stepping forward over the ruined pieces of paper.

“I literally did not say a single word to either of those terrifying women at dinner!”

I raised my hands defensively.

“I just stared blankly at my boiled vegetables the entire time!”

“That is exactly the massive, insurmountable problem!”

Gabriel suddenly exploded like a magical powder keg, his terrifying volume returning with an absolute vengeance.

He pointed a shaking, highly accusatory, armored finger directly at my face.

“You do not actively do anything!”

He screamed at the top of his lungs, his face turning an unhealthy shade of purple.

“You just peacefully exist, and entire sovereign kingdoms actively try to burn themselves to the ground just to solely possess you!”

He grabbed his own styled blond hair with both hands, violently yanking on the roots in sheer, unfiltered frustration.

“We are an elite, highly trained SSS-ranked adventuring party!”

Gabriel practically sobbed the words, his voice breaking with genuine sorrow.

“We have successfully slain massive, legendary drakes! We have cleared the darkest, most terrifying abyssal dungeons known to mankind!”

He threw his arms out wide to encompass the barricaded room.

“And we are currently being systematically, effortlessly dismantled by your completely passive, overwhelmingly toxic romantic aura!”

He began to aggressively pace around the pile of shredded paper.

“The most powerful Princess in the world is openly, terrifyingly obsessed with you!”

He pointed at the heavy armoire blocking the door.

“And your incredibly toxic, heavily armored ex-girlfriend just casually crashed the most important treaty dinner of the century!”

He stopped pacing and glared at me with pure betrayal.

“How do you even intimately know a high-ranking, legendary northern knight?!”

“It was a very fast, highly confusing summer training camp!”

I yelled back defensively, burying my burning, exhausted face deeply in my hands.

“I physically cannot fight a legendary royal bloodline!”

Gabriel ranted wildly, completely ignoring my perfectly valid excuse as he continued to completely melt down.

“I cannot use diplomatic tactics to talk my way out of a violently possessive yandere princess and an angry, heavily armored juggernaut!”

He walked right up to me, his chest heaving with exertion.

“You are a walking, breathing, catastrophic diplomatic hazard, Takashi!”

He poked me hard in the chest.

“You are the absolute, undeniable doom of this entire party!”

I slowly sank down onto the soft edge of my assigned bed, completely and utterly defeated by the heavy, crushing weight of his incredibly accurate words.

He was entirely right. It was profoundly, inherently unfair to me, but he was absolutely right about the situation. My bizarre, passive curse was absolutely going to get us all brutally executed in this freezing country.

Togashi, who had been completely and entirely silent ever since we first entered the barricaded room, quietly stepped away from the frosted glass window. He calmly slung his dark, heavily loaded travel pack securely over his right shoulder.

“Pack extremely light.”

Togashi said the words calmly in his flat, deadpan voice, looking directly into my terrified eyes.

“Window escape is scheduled for midnight.”

He adjusted the leather straps on his pack.

“We permanently leave the continent tonight.”

I looked down blankly at the shredded, ruined diplomatic treaty scattered across the floor. The historic peace mission was officially a complete, unmitigated disaster, and I was entirely, undeniably to blame for starting the next great magical war.