“I swear I’m going to kill that damn b*tch.”
Alberto gritted his teeth.
The dress he was wearing was too cumbersome.
And the carriage, which rattled every time it moved, infuriated him even more.
‘That fox-like woman.’
I should never let her live. She will probably become a lifelong stumbling block and backlashes.
‘And when did she see me hit the kid and even heal him?’
Alberto was cursing, but the carriage jolted and he accidentally bit his tongue.
“ARGH! ACK!”
He didn’t bite hard enough to cut his tongue off, but it was numb as if paralyzed and blood gushed out. Today is the day when nothing went as planned.
“AMHI!! (DAMN IT!!)”
He shouted, his mouth bleeding,
“HOP! HOPI! (STOP! STOP IT!)”
But the coachman drove on, pretending not to hear his screams.
At some point, the carriage he was riding in began to make its way into the forest. He was so enraged that he acted irrationally. Until the carriage stopped.
“Hyuk! AHH!”
It wasn’t until the coachman hurriedly got off the driver’s seat and ran away alone past the window did he remember the scheme he had planned.
A flying arrow shattered the carriage’s glass and narrowly pierced the other wall at that precise moment.
“……!”
Alberto’s eyes dilated.
The reason for having the saint participate in this Hunting Festival was to harm her.
He’d draw Kyle’s attention by claiming that a high-grade monster had appeared out of nowhere to separate him from the saint, and then have the coachman he hired in advance drag her in the other direction. After that, it’ll be a breeze*.
(T/N: Breeze here means easy.)
“Kekeke! You’re here!”
He could hear the carriage door slamming along with a peal of harsh laughter.
Alberto’s eyes widened as he looked around. There were few people around him, and he could only sense the presence of strangers.
“……!”
Alberto jumped up from his seat and was thrown out of the carriage by the man who had just entered.
“ARGH!”
He felt a dull pain in his hip that touched the ground. His head was also tingling as it bumped into something.
From above, he heard a harsh, hoarse voice,
“You’re unlucky to meet a bandit.”
Alberto stared at them with his head raised and his eyes wide open.
There were men in commoner’s garb with their mouths covered. They were not, however, bandits. They were all assassins hired by Alberto.
“HU! (YOU!)”
“Nice to meet you, Saintess.”
Riding in her carriage and even wearing her clothes, he was mistaken for a saint.
The sound of the sword he was drawing sent shivers up his spine.
“Don’t blame us too much. Because you’re a saint, God will send you to a better place even if you die.”
