Hale looked at the tall girl.

She was about the same height as Siman. Her hair was the white unique to noblewomen of the Kingdom of Cathrine, and her eyes were a deep ink-blue. Those were all traits of a northern noblewoman.

That proud, cold face—one that could stir a man's urge to conquer—looked somewhat familiar. So did the off-white long coat and boots, an outfit Hale knew well from the game.

If nothing had changed, this girl should be called Talesa.

In the game, she was an important supporting character who stayed by that northern empress of Cathrine. But she wasn't in charge of the Empress's safety, because the Empress herself was the Eternal Winter Saintess, wielding the holy sword Fimbul.

In wars between nations, Cathrine's Empress would usually appear on the very front lines.

And that was exactly why the people of Cathrine had placed their unwavering faith in the Empress for a thousand years.

Churches and gods might not always bring salvation. But the Empress would personally stain her holy sword with blood and drive away every existence that brought suffering to the people of Cathrine.

So Talesa's role was a bit different from Moyel's. She was an assassin, a burst-damage type. In the game, she usually wasn't meant to stay on the field for long team fights.

It wasn't impossible for her to stay in the fight, though. If you built her enough and gave her good gear, you could smooth over her weaknesses.

But Talesa had almost no AOE skills. Her Agility growth was top-tier in the game, and her unique talent gave bonus damage in one-on-one combat.

Players who recruited her usually used her for duels. Like the black market arena, or hunting a target within a time limit for extra cash.

And that was the messed-up part.

Because this swordsmanship exchange tournament was basically a one-on-one arena, wasn't it?

How shameless was Cathrine? This was supposed to be a friendly exchange between national delegations, and they brought an assassin who worked right beside the Empress?

Professional players banned from entry!

But judging by the timeline, Talesa hadn't gone through the Eternal Winter baptism yet.

Her level shouldn't have reached seventy. At most, around seventy.

Her level cap was basically the same as most heroines. But if she'd already gone through the Eternal Winter baptism by this point...

Then later, Young Master Andri or Siman would have almost no choice except getting beaten senseless.

Though, most likely, they'd still get beaten senseless anyway.

We're screwed.

Hale thought that if Talesa made a move, it would just be a random lucky winner getting picked for a brutal beating.

That meant even if the next person won, they'd still need to win one more round.

He wouldn't be able to make good on all those things he'd used to bluff Siman.

Worse, if it ended up being Talesa against Siman, then Siman losing would count as one heroine defeat.

That kind of defeat wouldn't lead to a bad ending in the game. But it would raise the odds of him being shoved to the front under the game's setting.

Why?

He didn't get it.

Even in the game's northern empress route, if the diplomatic choice sent a delegation to the Papal Dominion, Talesa wouldn't go.

So what the hell was this?

The northern empress couldn't afford to lose?

"Young Master Hale, it seems you've taken an interest in our Lady Talesa?"

Marquis Chekhov noticed Hale's gaze.

On the delegation roster, Talesa's identity had naturally been forged. This woman, who originally served directly in the Empress's shadow division, had now become the only daughter of some fallen marquis. Her father was dead, and she had inherited the title.

As a young marchioness, joining the delegation's swordsmanship exchange naturally wouldn't make her seem beneath the son and daughter of the Papal Dominion's two dukes.

And the reason Talesa had come was, of course, the Empress's personal order.

And the reason for that order was still Hale.

Now that Hale had started observing Talesa first, it gave Marquis Chekhov the perfect chance to introduce this specially prepared opponent to the black-haired young man.

"Ah, I've always liked women with long legs. Everyone here knows that."

To hide his real purpose, Hale casually leaned into his usual persona again.

"Hmph. Slick-tongued."

Talesa shot Hale a cold glance. Earlier, backstage at the swordsmanship venue, she'd secretly observed him through a slit in the curtain.

This young man, whom the Salvation Sect had recommended the Empress pay attention to, had indeed become the center of attention the moment he entered.

His fundamentals didn't seem weak either. His stance was very steady.

He looked lazy, but Hale also seemed to be observing everyone in the venue. That kind of counter-surveillance awareness was something Talesa had trained since childhood as an assassin, so she was especially sensitive to others who had it too.

Instinctively, she judged that Hale was no simple noble young master. She directly crossed out the impressions she'd gotten from his file before—"playboy wastrel" and "frivolous young lord."

But that was all.

Hale was someone who had caught the Empress's attention. And for someone noticed by the Empress, being outstanding was only the entry ticket.

He had to be exceptional to deserve the assessment, "Hale to Her Majesty is what the Hero is to the Eternal Winter Saintess."

In Talesa's eyes, those charlatans in the Salvation Sect spoke with zero responsibility. They just wanted support and funding from the Kingdom of Cathrine.

They were good at selling dreams, though. They also had no shortage of weird buzzwords like path dependence, current market, closed logic loop, matrix, synergy, linkage, and interaction.

As the Empress's eyes, she had to take a good look at what Hale was really worth this time, and screen him properly for Her Majesty.

"Hale, talk less."

Siman hurried over.

She understood Hale's charm stat now. But Cathrine's customs and culture were different from the Papal Dominion's. Among the many nations of the Western Continent, it counted as one of the less open ones.

One of the classic old rumors on the Western Continent was that after Cathrine's men marched off to war, Cathrine's women could still wrestle black bears if their children were in danger.

In other words, a man popular in the Papal Dominion—or even across the nations of the Western Continent—might not necessarily charm the women of Cathrine.

Of course, deep down, Siman also hoped Hale would finally hit a wall with a woman. Otherwise, what was he supposed to do if he flirted with every girl he saw?

"Everyone loves beauty, Siman. You're not a man, so you wouldn't get it."

Hale kept acting in character.

He had to.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that Talesa showing up here, along with the Kingdom of Cathrine's delegation specifically naming him to participate, probably meant Empress Cathrine had already noticed him.

He didn't know what kind of setback Her Majesty had suffered to start paying attention to him.

But since they hadn't met yet, leaving her with the impression that he was unreliable definitely couldn't go wrong.

With the Empress's pride, how could she tolerate a man who hadn't even built any achievements yet acting more arrogant than she was?

"Huh?"

Siman felt like something was off with Hale. He didn't seem like the same person who had just told her, "You're the only daughter of House Faxius."

But then again, men liking beautiful women was perfectly normal. When she was little, she and her sisters had treated that like some universal truth. They'd even boldly declared that one day, all the men in Saint Louis would fall at their feet.

"But I am a female marquis of the Kingdom of Cathrine, Young Master Hale. You have yet to inherit your family title, so please mind your words."

After thinking it over, Talesa decided to end this boring topic.

But that proud, aloof remark she used to draw a line between herself and Hale happened to drift into the ears of a certain girl sipping black tea.

"A female marquis... of the Kingdom of Cathrine?"

The girl only repeated it in a low voice.

But Count Lide, ever the sharp one, heard two parts jealousy, five parts hostility, and three parts displeasure in that single sentence.