Transmigrated as My Support Mage Avatar-Chapter 69: Ch: The Crown and the Lie

The horses neighed and rattled their hooves against the marble road—spooked by the sudden shockwave of Dila’s punch that shattered the magical gate.

"Nehhh! Hehehehh!" they reared up in panic, nearly snapping the reins.

The masked man turned casually, as if he had all the time in the world. With his back still facing them, he raised one hand, waving it with a dismissive flair. "Calm down, boys... Easy now."

The horses, miraculously, obeyed—stomping less violently, their breaths heavy but stable again.

Then, without turning, the masked man let out a soft, theatrical sigh. "Tsk tsk tsk... Look what you’ve done." He finally turned his masked face back toward Dila, his tone mockingly calm. "You frightened my horses."

He lifted his hand again dramatically, palm upward as if he were announcing something to an audience. "You know how hard it is to raise them? One gets upset, the other thinks the world’s ending."

Dila, panting and furious, glared at him with a clenched fist still glowing faintly. "I don’t care about your goddamn horses!"

The masked man placed a hand over his chest, as if wounded. "Ohhh... you don’t like horses?" he pouted, mockingly devastated. "What a bummer... I was going to name one after you. ’Lady Kickstorm.’ Very fitting, no?"

"Shut up!" Dila snapped, her voice echoing across the now-silent plaza.

But the masked man wasn’t offended. Instead, he chuckled softly and suddenly clapped—just twice—then smiled with eyes closed beneath his mask. "Well then... Congratulations, Princess."

He gestured to the ruined gate behind her.

"You passed."

Still smiling, he tilted his head and added, "Looks like you’re royalty after all."

Dila’s blue eyes narrowed. Her voice turned sharp. "Did I tell you to keep that goddamn mouth running?"

Without missing a beat, the masked man bowed slightly, hand across his chest like a loyal knight.

"As you wish, Your Highness. I’ll shut up now." His tone was playfully obedient, but beneath the mask, his eyes gleamed—amused, impressed... and waiting.

Suddenly, a familiar soft voice fluttered into Dila’s mind like a calming breeze.

☆ Master, please calm down for now... it looks like that masked freak is correct after all... your royalty—I never could imagine it’s true... ☆

Dila’s breathing hitched. Her eyes twitched slightly.

"Neither do I..." she whispered back in her thoughts, "It’s just—Nari... I’m still very puzzled. It’s like this world keeps shitting in my head for no damn reason—twisting everything..."

☆ M-Master! Please stop spouting such bad words! ☆

Dila closed her eyes for a moment and replied bitterly in her thoughts, "It’s too late for that now..."

Meanwhile, Fran—who had been flung aside during the chaos—was rolling her eyes in a daze on the ground. She blinked rapidly and quickly scrambled to her feet, her cat tail twitching from the dizziness. "A-a-a... I thought you were only a support mage, sister..."

Dila turned to her, still catching her breath. Her eyes were calm but confused. "I am, Fran... I am." She looked down at her trembling hands, faint traces of blue energy still flickering. "I don’t know why this power suddenly crossed over to me... It’s as if I’ve regained something I had lost long ago."

The masked man—still standing at a distance—watched silently for a beat. Then he chuckled under his breath and said in a low, amused but slightly irritating tone: freewebnσvel.cøm

"Ohh... interesting."

The masked man gave a subtle bow, one hand across his chest, the other motioning forward with an exaggerated flourish. His tone was teasing, but carried a layer of mock respect.

"Well then... shall we go now, Princess?" he said smoothly, the grin under his mask almost audible.

Dila narrowed her eyes, her voice firm and irritated.

"I’ll walk, thank you," she snapped, brushing past him with an air of cold defiance.

She didn’t wait for a reply.

"Let’s go, Fran," Dila added, her voice softer as she glanced over her shoulder.

Fran blinked, still jittery but loyal. "Oh—oh! Oky!" she said quickly, catching up beside her.

The masked man remained behind them for a moment, hands behind his back like a smug tour guide.

"I’ll lead the way then, Princess," he said, turning on his heel with a wide, deliberate grin. "Right this way... to our destination."

His footsteps echoed lightly ahead of them as they walked forward through the massive, broken magical gate—toward the unknown heart of the Eldor Kingdom.

The third gate loomed open ahead, revealing not a cold stone courtyard, but a breathtaking expanse of magical gardens stretching out like a canvas of living color. The paths were lined with stones that shimmered faintly, shifting in hue under the sunlight—lavender to soft blue, then to rose gold with every step.

Flowerbeds, too vivid to be real, bloomed in intricate patterns. Some glowed faintly with mana, others shifted their petals to follow the sun. Elven-crafted sculptures stood between trimmed hedges shaped into elegant curves—swans, swords, even floating shapes suspended mid-air, held by nothing but enchantment. Tall, crystalline trees with transparent leaves reflected light like chandeliers, making the whole garden gleam like a sanctuary painted by magic itself.

The masked man walked a few steps ahead, his gloved hands behind his back, speaking with a proud tone as if giving a grand tour of a palace he built himself.

"Ahhh... isn’t it beautiful?" he said, motioning broadly. "Every leaf and stem here is shaped by high elven magic. That hedge over there? Shaped by the Archmage of Bloom himself—took him two weeks to get the phoenix tail to curl just right."

He chuckled softly, not even checking if they were listening.

"These blossoms," he continued, pointing at a row of crimson-blue tulips dancing ever so slightly, "only bloom when the moon and sun both touch the same horizon. Rare. And only grown here. And that glowing moss on the walls—see that? Enchanted to absorb darkness. Keeps the palace luminous, even on moonless nights."

Behind him, Dila walked in silence, her head lowered, staring only at the path beneath her boots. The beauty around her barely registered. Her fists were lightly clenched. Every step felt heavier the closer they got.

Fran walked close at Dila’s side, glancing at the vibrant colors, then at her sister—saying nothing, only walking quietly, her tail swaying slowly.

The masked man turned slightly as if expecting praise, then chuckled again when he saw Dila’s silence.

"No words, Princess? Hah... too awestruck, I suppose," he said lightly. "Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. After all—" he gestured grandly to the looming castle ahead, "—this entire kingdom is your birthright."

Dila didn’t answer.

She just walked.

The third gate loomed taller than the others—gilded, shimmering with spells that pulsed like a heartbeat. Two guards stood beside it, clad in sleek elven armor, their silver spears crossed in front of the path.

One of them narrowed his eyes as they approached, especially when he caught a familiar presence stepping beside the two girls.

"Hero Zeon?" the general guard asked, puzzled. "Why are you just walking here where is your carriage? Shouldn’t you—"

"Shhh," Zeon hissed, raising a single gloved finger to his masked lips. "You’re blowing my cover, General."

"Cover for wha—" the general began, confused.

But he didn’t get to finish.

Dila’s head, which had been low all this time, suddenly jerked upward. Her eyes—burning, alive with raw, furious energy—locked onto Zeon.

Her aura exploded like a storm in a sealed jar.

"You..." she growled, her voice like cold metal against flint. "All this time, you were a hero?"

Crackling blue magic swirled from her limbs, lighting the air in streaks as her voice trembled with fury.

"A hero of shit. A hero of the Devil. A hero of—fucking Satan!"

Zeon just turned his head slowly, laughing casually, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Whoa there," he chuckled, unfazed. "Surprised, huh?"

"You said you were just an assassin," Dila barked. "Disposable. Nothing important. You old fart lier."

Fran instinctively stepped back a pace, raising her hands nervously, her cat tail swaying behind her. "Uhh... Sister... maybe calm down a bit..."

But the guards were already tense, gripping their spears tighter as Dila’s mana shook the air. Even the runes on the magical gate flickered, reacting to her presence.

"Who is that?" the general whispered, uneasy, sweat already trickling down his forehead.

Zeon turned to him with a grin, unfazed by the storm behind him. "Oh her?" he gestured with his thumb toward the fuming girl, not even looking.

"She’s the King’s daughter. The Princess." He raised both arms like a magician revealing his final act. "Tadahh."

The general blinked, stunned. "I... I don’t know. I feel like she’s about to kill someone."

"I feel that too," muttered the second guard, backing half a step.

"Eh, she’s just chilling," Zeon replied nonchalantly, his masked eyes closed in calm mischief. He threw one arm lazily over the general’s shoulder, completely ignoring Dila’s blazing fury behind him.

Then—

"HEY!" Dila’s voice boomed like thunder. "HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME, YOU FREAK HEAD?!"

Zeon tilted his head lazily. "Nah," he replied.

The audacity.

The sheer nerve.

And the magical pressure only grew stronger.

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