The well-Balanced Yamamoto-san Gets Caught up in a Death Game

Chapter 89

We retreated a short distance from the still-chaotic prince’s camp for a private huddle. Tsuna-san declined, citing “investigations,” leaving just Envy-chan and me.

(Part of me envied her freedom.)

*”Yamato-sama, are you familiar with **[ ]**?”*

*”You mentioned that during the fight.”*

*”**[Necromancy]** is a racial skill exclusive to undead monsters or high-tier undead demonkin. Meaning one of those assassins is demonkin.”*

*”So a demonkin’s aiding a human kingdom’s royal assassination? Yeah, that’s messy.”*

Messy? Try *war-triggering*.

Player-versus-player bloodshed in LIA? *Hard pass.*

*”Between the butler and this, the stench of conspiracy is overwhelming. Disengagement is advisable.”*

*”Hmm.”*

Avoiding war would be ideal… but what if we’re *already* locked into an event?

Imagine: *”Abandon the ‘Protect the Prince’ questline → Prince dies → Kingdom declares war on demonkind.”*

LIA’s worst quirk? Events *never* announce their start—only their consequences.

We might’ve stumbled into a *world-scale* event without realizing.

Third Prince targeted = *cataclysmic* implications.

Was Envy-chan’s warning about the event’s scale? Or a hidden “no war if we leave now” flag?

Ugh. Overthinking? Maybe I should just enjoy the—

*”God.”*

*”Huh? Oh, Tsuna-san. What’s up?”*

Her expression was grim.

*”All attackers zombified. Tried **[Revival Potion]** on one—just reanimated as a mindless husk. Intel extraction’s impossible.”*

*”I… see.”*

Wasting **[Revival Potions]**? Bold.

(Note: Restock later.)

Clever play by the assassins, though. In LIA, corpses *can* talk—unless you zombify them first.

*”Then our only lead is…”*

*”The butler. He knows everything.”*

*”But he claimed contractual silence.”*

*”Might be lying. Or maybe partial truths slip. Plus, we owe him skewers.”*

We approached the prince’s battered carriage—missing a door, horses dead, barely holding together.

A circle of people huddled nearby. Not strategizing.

*”Grandfather! Stay with me! The wounds are healed! You *must* move!”*

*”…………”*

The butler. Unconscious.

*Of course.*

This event’s cruelty level: *maximum*.

*”Your Highness… Forgive me, but Foster must be… eliminated.”*

*”You *dare*?! He’s been by my side since childhood!”*

*”The zombie bite—some strains *convert* the living. If he wakes, it’ll be as one of *them*.”*

*”The transformation’s instant! He’s still *human*!”*

*”Only if the victim dies immediately. Foster survived… which means a *living* hell awaits.”*

*”There’s… no other way? He’s like *family*—!”*

*”We’re sorry…”*

Prince Sail’s hand trembled on his sword’s hilt—then withdrew.

He *knew* the truth. But grief doesn’t obey logic.

Meanwhile, *we* needed that butler *alive*.

Our sole lead on the assassins.

*”**[Methyx Grass]** could suffice.”*

Envy-chan’s murmur cut the tension.

*”A rare antidote among my people. Brewed into tea, it halts zombification.”*

Prince Sail *latched* onto the hope.

*”Albert! Is this grass nearby?”*

*”Apologies, Your Highness. My herbology’s lacking. But the southern kingdom’s a medicinal haven—”*

*”Then we ride for Farse! Zeke will find an expert!”*

*”Wait! The Big Viper ambushed us *coming* here! Night travel with these numbers—”*

Five guards left. Six, counting the dying butler.

Big Viper—Area 1’s boss monster.

Should be manageable for elites, but…

Prince Sail’s eyes met mine.

*”You’re travelers?”*

*”Just crafters.”*

*”Irrelevant. I’ll pay *any* price. *Please* escort us to Farse.”*

*”Your Highness! *Bowing* to commoners—!”*

*”Silence! Is royal *pride* worth more than *lives*?!”*

The prince’s bow was deep. Desperate.

Third Prince Sail—neither the spendthrift heir nor the warmongering second. The *compassionate* one.

Politically reckless? Absolutely.

*”Disgraceful. A ruler’s humility misguides his—”*

*”—I like it.”*

I cut Envy-chan’s lecture short.

*”A ‘benevolent ruler’ beats ‘wise’ or ‘tyrannical’ any day. We’ll escort you—standard adventurer rates.”*

*”I’ll take payment in *food*.”*

Tsuna-san’s demand reminded me: *Wait—nobles have exotic cuisine. Did she just out-negotiate me?*

(No matter. Coin converts to EXP anyway.)

*”Deal. We’ll arrange both in Farse.”*

*”Contract sealed. Let’s *move*.”*

I summoned **[Carriage]** on the spot.

Envy-chan’s cut?

…She’s *protected*, not a guard. *Sorry, secretary.*