The Maid of the Cursed Princess

It was during the time before Dorothy went by that name, when he eked out a wretched existence as a nameless drifter and blind errand boy.

A time of earning money only to fritter it away on alcohol, tobacco, and gambling in a downward spiral toward ruination.

Having received a request from the witch to rescue the prime minister’s daughter and accepted it, he had headed to Königsberg, only to immediately encounter obstacles as he could find no leads on who had kidnapped the prime minister’s daughter.

With so many brazen organizations openly advertising their operations in that unsavory city, locating the prime minister’s daughter proved immensely difficult. The sheer number of such overt organizations implied even more rats lurking in the shadows without signboards.

Thus, after much deliberation, he decided to ransack anything that seemed suspicious one by one. If he thoroughly turned over every stone, he was bound to stumble upon a lead eventually.

That was the reason half of Königsberg had been reduced to a field of rubble.

The Slave Prince was the one he had clashed with after finally discovering the prime minister’s daughter’s whereabouts amidst that mayhem – his ultimate adversary.

A conspicuous man with red hair and eyes that seemed to glow like a wolf’s in the darkness.

While roaming around and turning the riffraff of Königsberg into silent corpses at every turn, the Slave Prince was the only opponent who fought on par with him.

“Back then… I was certain you would perish soon after…”

Dorothy recalled the sensation of ripping out the Slave Prince’s throat.

“Yet you managed to survive… though you seem to have changed somewhat…”

However, the Slave Prince had indeed lived and now appeared before her, inexplicably as a woman.

Yet that transformation didn’t prevent Dorothy from recognizing him, for while his form had changed, those soulless eyes remained unaltered. (tl/n: In the original Korean text, the pronouns used to refer to Slave Prince are masculine, so I think I will do so too not to get confused, because the character still uses a ‘male’ name as well as a nickname)

“…?”

Yet the Slave Prince seemed unable to recognize Dorothy, regarding the impaled maid with a puzzled expression.

“Well… it doesn’t matter… Ugh..!!”

In that moment, Dorothy shoved the Slave Prince back and kicked him away to create distance between them.

“Haa… Haa… Damn… nuisance… Ugh..!!”

Ripping out the dagger buried in her abdomen, she clutched her wound as she glared at her long-unseen nemesis.

“So the one you’re after… is the Princess, isn’t it?”

“…”

There was no response, yet Dorothy was certain – she had personally slain the assassins who had previously attempted the Princess’s life and infiltrated the High Tower.

It was hardly unusual for the client to dispatch an even more formidable assassin after an initial failure. The Slave Prince she knew undoubtedly possessed skills surpassing ordinary assassins.

“…Haah…”

Yet she couldn’t retreat, for her mission was to protect the Princess.

Against an enemy who had come to kill the Princess, she couldn’t yield a single step. That was the contract, the promise she had made.

Producing a white glove from her pocket and slipping it on, Dorothy steadied her breathing.

Had this been her past self, she might have succumbed to exsanguination. But now-

…It was mere conjecture, but she had nothing else to believe in.

“Princess, can you hear me?”

“What is happening out there?”

Releasing the wire, Dorothy met the Slave Prince’s gaze with renewed composure.

“Please remain crouched down as much as possible. That should keep you relatively safe.”

The situation was undoubtedly unfavorable – she had allowed the ambush and had someone to protect.

Yet victory wasn’t impossible, for if this was indeed the Slave Prince she knew, then he was at least an opponent she had defeated once before.

“While I am unaccustomed to fighting while guarding another…”

Well, what choice did she have? She had to do what must be done.

* * *

With wires intricately strung like a spider’s web and the maid nimbly perched atop them, the Slave Prince – Ruslan – finally recognized his opponent’s identity.

“Arachne.”

“It seems you’ve realized at last.”

The spider from Orléans who had once inflicted defeat upon him.

“You’ve become a woman.”

“We’ve both changed, have we not?”

The pair who had once fought a life-or-death battle in Königsberg now faced each other again amidst the Orléans forests, their appearances transformed.

“…”

Witnessing his altered form, Ruslan briefly pondered if it was the witch’s doing.

Such a feat would certainly be well within that witch’s capabilities, regardless of the underlying principles.

But that thought didn’t linger, for whether her outward form had changed or not, his objective remained the same.

“…”

Gripping the dagger that had emerged from his fluttering sleeves, Ruslan gazed up at Dorothy perched spider-like upon the wires-

The spider atop her web, and the centipede poised to pounce.

Fwish-

The first to move was the spider, Dorothy’s wires unfurling to ensnare her enemy.

Yet Ruslan didn’t become mincemeat, leaping straight up to easily evade the tightening wires that could only shred the hapless tree behind him instead.

Not wasting that opening, Ruslan flung the dagger in his grasp toward Dorothy.

Clang!! The sharp clang of clashing metal as the deflected dagger ricocheted away. But Ruslan had already regained his stance, charging Dorothy as he snatched the airborne dagger to swing it once more.

Grating screeches assaulting their ears, Ruslan’s slashing dagger forcing Dorothy to retreat as her wires constricted his breathing, only for Ruslan to fall back as Dorothy pressed forward when he evaded.

“?”

To Ruslan, who had prior experience battling Dorothy, her actions seemed highly peculiar.

In the past, she had rarely taken the offensive, preferring to maintain an optimal distance by freely manipulating her wires – especially advantageous against foes wielding short-ranged weapons like daggers.

Yet now she recklessly advanced despite the risks, failing to maintain the range most favorable to herself.

But why had she abandoned her previous methods for this less efficient approach?

“…”

It didn’t take long for Ruslan to discern the reason.

And that single reason proved the decisive factor in their battle.

* * *

Unease.

Despite Ruslan’s increasingly fierce onslaught compared to their initial clash, Dorothy felt an inexplicable sense of disquiet.

While Ruslan’s fighting style was indeed inherently relentless and dogged like a ferocious beast unconstrained by any particular discipline, he didn’t completely disregard being injured.

Rather, Ruslan was one of the most calculated fighters, meticulously weighing potential gains and losses to devise the most advantageous strategy.

Yet the current Ruslan was different, recklessly charging like a rabid beast with utter disregard for his own well-being.

Though she had narrowly avoided any immediately lethal wounds, Dorothy was well aware that one could perish from non-fatal injuries alone.

Thus, she couldn’t comprehend her bloodied, injury-riddled opponent who fought on undeterred despite copiously bleeding from countless wounds. Even if he held his own life cheap, what could drive him to such extremes?

Then suddenly, Ruslan abruptly froze.

“…?”

Had he finally reached his limit? No, that couldn’t be it.

The Ruslan Dorothy recalled possessed such indomitable tenacity that he would unhesitatingly press the attack even with a severed limb. For such a man to so abruptly cease moving?

Suspecting some ulterior intent, Dorothy cautiously trained her wires on Ruslan, prepared to reduce him to shredded flesh the moment he charged.

“…”

Yet contrary to Dorothy’s readiness, after that brief pause Ruslan unexpectedly turned and fled.

“…Huh?”

Stunned by that unforeseen conduct shattering her preconceptions of the Slave Prince, her thoughts ground to a halt for a moment.

“…!!!!!”

But she soon realized Ruslan’s initial target had never been her to begin with-

Ruslan’s true objective, the one he was after, was Princess Sibylla.

Dorothy’s master, the one she had vowed to protect.

Having been forced back by Ruslan’s relentless assault, Dorothy had strayed too far from the carriage Sibylla was in.

In other words, Sibylla within that carriage was now completely defenseless and exposed.

“No way…!!”

Her hastily flung wires fell short as Dorothy gave chase after Ruslan, running toward the carriage.

She couldn’t permit Ruslan to approach, couldn’t allow him to turn his blade on Sibylla.

Having utterly lost her composure, Dorothy poured all her strength into her legs, praying she could close the distance, praying she could catch up.

“St-“

Yet in that moment:

“-op…?”

Ruslan stepped onto the wires Dorothy had laid, using the recoil to fling himself straight at her.

From the start, Ruslan’s intention had been to goad Dorothy into recklessly charging while abandoning her calm.

But by the time Dorothy realized it, Ruslan’s blade was already at her throat.

“Kughh-“

A strangled gasp as the dagger pierced through Dorothy’s neck.