I Married the Beautiful Female Protagonist In Order To Survive

40. The Clown Was Myself

Zelora’s words weren’t particularly lethal, but their insult was deeply felt. Though the surrounding onlookers, students all, regarded Zelora with varying degrees of mockery and amusement, branding him a lovesick hound willing to debase himself for his goddess, Henri IV, of all people, lapped it up.

It was Henri IV herself who’d initially voiced the “My brother wants me to marry you” line. Intended as a casual jest, she hadn’t expected this lovesick pup to not only fail at slavishly currying favor like a gigolo, but to use the very notion as a springboard, continuing his courtship of Filora and playing the hero. This prompted Henri IV, almost without thought, to accept Zelora’s challenge.

“Very well～ Since you insist, I shall deign to waste a little time, to ascertain what sort of specimen my brother recommends, and what worth he might possess～”

Speaking thus, Henri IV strode onto the training grounds, beckoning Zelora with a hooked finger, as one might summon a lapdog.

“Come here～”

This spectacle only inflamed the already feverish atmosphere. Not just students, but even instructors couldn’t resist the urge to partake in the drama, grumbling amongst themselves.

“That Zelora… he’s become obsessed with being a lapdog, blinded to the realities before him. While Miss Filora is indeed exceptional, to treat Master Henri’s sister with such flippancy… does he imagine he’s being manipulative?”

“Precisely why they’re called lapdogs, Professor. When the golden opportunity to rise to prominence finally arrives, they fumble it and lick it away.”

“The esteemed Master Henri’s sister will surely knock Zelora’s teeth out. Any ‘marriage’ prospects will be doomed. Alas… this sort of trash can’t even seize an opportunity. He deserves to remain a lapdog.”

Whispers and rumors, regardless of Zelora’s wish to ignore them, inevitably found their way to his ears. This time, Zelora didn’t even bother to retort. If he had to vocalize his thoughts, they would be: relief, and…

*Exactly as planned!*

Haha! Now, everyone’s attention would be focused on him, and him alone. Therefore…

No one would question why Filora hadn’t accepted the challenge. They’d simply assume this “lapdog” was the obstacle.

That was enough. What did it matter if he played the fool for the sake of the person he loved, the person who loved him? Zelora was willing to sacrifice his reputation to secure Filora’s safety. It was no loss, but a great gain! He no longer had to worry if his good intentions would reach her, because Filora, already understood.

“Hey… idiot. Wait. Are you planning to go up there empty-handed, or use some mass-produced trinket against her exquisitely crafted weapon?”

Just as Zelora started walking, Filora’s irritated, yet undoubtedly concerned, voice reached his ears.

Immediately after, she unclasped her belt, and tossed the sword she usually uses.

A silence descended upon the crowd for a moment, a collective question hung in the air, *who truly is the clown?*

“Take it.”

Zelora caught it easily, he tested the power hidden within the blade, and… the traces of Filora. Then, he grinned, “Thanks, suddenly I feel invincible.”

Astonished gazes fixed on Zelora, each person scrambling for a “self-reassuring” explanation. Naturally… no one noticed the slight flush creeping onto Filora’s face.

The “grinning fool” vanished the moment he turned. Zelora took his place and stood facing Henri IV, and of course, he knew exactly what the “esteemed young lady” wanted to accomplish.

Simply, to demonstrate her strength. If it was to capture the person who attacked Filora, it was indeed important to “demonstrate” her power.

After a moment of contemplation, Zelora had the answer.

Then, as the magical arrays around the arena sealed, creating a barrier to prevent harm to onlookers, Zelora charged towards Henri IV with an adrenaline rush!

After all, this looked more like a “fool” or a “lapdog.” Having said that, considering Filora’s situation, he couldn’t continue to allow people to look down on her, so… he would show her in the “appropriate” way.

“!”

His clothing fluttered without any wind. Filora’s weapon was, of course, excellent, but this time Zelora used his own strength. He would give Henri IV a stage to show off her power, but… he would also let the attacker who was hiding somewhere to know: what the consequences were for laying a hand on Filora!

Zelora hadn’t remembered a single thing from the lessons he’d been taught: they were unnecessary, unwanted, because for some reason, he felt that he gained more insight from napping under a tree for an afternoon than from those “practical” lessons.

Perhaps, right now!

The intent of her blade, sharp and fierce, shook the very ground. Even as she, Henri IV, leapt aside, several “claw marks” erupted across the spot where she’d stood, slamming into the barrier with a jolt. It sent a wave of energy back, flinging a few unfortunate students who were standing a bit too close.

“What the hell was that?”

“Surely… it must be the weapon that Lady Fiora lent her that’s so strong. There’s no way she’s that powerful on her own…”

Silence fell over the crowd.

Zerola, however, didn’t have time for onlookers. Her gaze was fixed on Henri IV.

This one was Henry III’s sister. To be honest, Zerola didn’t like her, but she hadn’t wanted to underestimate her from the start! Especially after that strange smile she’d given, sending a shiver crawling down Zerola’s spine.

“Amateur. Though no wonder brother told me to say what he did. In a good mood, are we? I think I’ll ‘test’ you~”

Test you with a hammer! I don’t have the slightest interest in you, alright! Even if you stripped naked in front of me, still no interest!

But Zerola didn’t have time to retort. In the next instant, Fiora drew the broadsword hanging at her hip, tossing the scabbard aside as her entire demeanor shifted. Grim, lethal. Her strikes were swift, precise, and brutal, the force behind them almost unbelievable on a woman…

Witnessing this, the crowd finally snapped out of their stupor, showering Henri IV with envious praise. “She really *is* that strong!” and “Just like her brother!”

And wasn’t it the truth. Zerola felt it too. Could it be a sibling thing? It was as if she wasn’t facing Henri IV, but Henry III himself.

But complaining wouldn’t help. The “greetings” were over. Now… the real show began.

“Zerola, I’m taking you under my wing, consider it your good fortune. Don’t be blind and keep playing the lapdog.”

“Crawl! Fight if you want to fight, otherwise stop yapping like a little b*tch. Oh, wait, you *are* a little b*tch, so, never mind.”

Lapdog? Lapdog this!

I already *have* a lover, are you telling me how to be a gigolo?!

——

Background illustrations, and coloured artwork, are both in the works, they should be ready soon.

The coloured artwork I’m preparing personally should be done sooner, as I’m paying for it myself.

I hope you’ll give your support with a monthly ticket.