Before my fingers could reach Ubeomâs throat,
in that fleeting moment, countless possibilities flashed through my mind.
Should I rip out his windpipe first?
To stop him from making any more noise, perhaps I should start by tearing that out.
Or maybe break his right handâhe was clearly right-handedâ
to ensure he couldnât draw his sword.
No, does it even matter?
Heâs going to die anyway.
If he was destined to crumble into ash,
then how I went about it didnât really matter.
With those thoughts swirling, I reached for Ubeomâs neck.
âStopâ.â
I froze.
A voice cut through the tension, halting my hand mid-motion.
âLeave it at that.â
It was Madam Miâs voice.
I turned to look at her and asked,
âLeave it at that?â
Why should I stop?
Was there any need to?
I even had justification on my side.
This bastard had humiliated us with his vile words
and had dared to draw his sword first despite being a guest.
Even though we werenât directly affiliated with the Martial Alliance,
it was clear from Madam Miâs earlier remarks that we were acting under their entrusted authority.
In other wordsân/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
Messing with us is equivalent to defying the entire Martial Alliance.
Viewed on a broader scale, it could even be seen as an act that might spark conflict between nations.
And yetâ
Letting this escortâs life go would be seen as a gesture of leniency.
Every action carried such meaning.
Killing this despicable man wouldnât have caused any problems.
Madam Mi surely understood this better than I did.
So why�
âWhy should I?â
I asked her for a reason.
If Madam Mi was telling me to stop,
I assumed she must have a logical explanation.
She was that kind of person.
I expected her to offer a rational argumentâ
perhaps that killing the escort in front of the young lady would create unnecessary complications,
or that harming an outsider from the martial world could lead to larger issues.
But insteadâ
âThe flower you gave me still carries its fragrance.â
Madam Miâs response was something else entirely.
ââ¦What?â