The One Who Always Returns to Me #4
Niel grabbed several people on the street, asking if they had seen a man with white hair named Emil. “He was with some white-haired woman… You don’t know? Damn it.”
He questioned one person after another about Emil and the mysterious woman, but no one seemed to know anything.
It was strange.
It had definitely been Emil.
He couldn’t identify the woman beside him, but he had seen Emil’s face clearly.
Yet there wasn’t a single eyewitness account.
White hair wasn’t an extremely rare color, but it wasn’t common either. And the fact that they were a pair—a man and a woman—meant someone must have noticed them.
At the very least, there should have been one person who remembered seeing them somewhere. Instead, everyone acted as if they had coordinated their answers, all claiming they had no idea.
“Damn it, did I really see a hallucination?”
Niel grumbled as he urged his horse forward.
He had barely managed to find a mount, but even after wandering for a long time, he still hadn’t located Emil. Still, he wasn’t too disappointed.
After all, Niel had believed Emil was dead. According to Leni, Emil had stayed behind alone to fight Iredain’s forces in order to save her. And Alon Ricgard’s death proved that story was true.
To face an entire army alone and kill the lord—there was no way he could have survived.
But according to the testimony of soldiers who had surrendered in Iredain, the man who had collapsed as if dead suddenly rose as though possessed. For some reason, no one could stop him as he calmly walked out of the castle alone.
Niel had dismissed it as nonsense at the time.
Yet from the beginning, Emil’s actions had been full of too many questions.
‘Leni said he broke through Iredain’s guards single-handedly to rescue her. I couldn’t believe that either, but…’
It was hard to write it off as the distorted memory of a traumatized child when Sir Aiden Romandon, who had brought Leni to safety, gave the exact same testimony.
There were even more unbelievable accounts: that he had jumped from a tower one hundred and forty feet high, or that he had smashed through an iron gate with his bare hands.
“If that’s all true, then what the hell is he?”
“What are you so curious about, Sir Niel?”
The voice from behind made Niel flinch. He drew his sword in one swift motion.
The man standing behind him raised his hands above his head in a playful gesture.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there. If I’m not mistaken, weren’t you the one who came looking for me? You’re not here to kill me, are you?”
“…Priest Emil!”
The man’s identity was indeed Emil.
Good heavens, he really was alive?
“My god, you really are alive.”
“It’s difficult to give a clear answer to that, but for now, yes, I am alive.”
“So you really escaped Iredain all by yourself that day? I can hardly believe it.”
“Well… I suppose so.”
Emil gave a vague smile and glossed over the question. Then he asked one of his own.
“First, I have something I’d like to ask as well. Is Princess Leni safe?”
“Yes. Thanks to you.”
Niel frowned as he spoke.
“If you were alive, why didn’t you come to Myrdin? Princess Leni thought you were dead. She’s been grieving every single day. No matter when I visited, she was always crying.”
“I see…”
Emil’s expression turned bitter.
“Then the reason you came looking for me, Sir Niel, was because of Princess Leni?”
“That’s right. Her Majesty sent me. There were testimonies that you had escaped Iredain that day. I didn’t believe them, but… ha, it was true after all.”
How on earth had he survived?
To kill Alon Ricgard alone and escape Iredain by himself.
Just what was the true identity of this priest…?
“Now that I think about it, who was that white-haired girl next to you? She looked a lot like you. Family?”
“Family… Yes, you could say that.”
Niel smiled bitterly again.
“She was incredibly strong. Even though I caught her off guard, she still managed to shove me to the ground. By the way, if she’s your family, why don’t you bring her to Myrdin with you?”
“I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary.”
“If you say so, then I understand.”
Niel nodded.
“Honestly, I have far too many questions about you, but for now, won’t you come with me? If we make the princess wait any longer, she might drown in her own tears.”
“Gladly, Sir Niel.”
Emil nodded.
Then he murmured toward the empty space beside him.
Niel couldn’t hear what he said, but Emil’s words were these:
“You’re really coming too? …No, that’s not what I meant. I just… if that’s what you want, then fine. Do as you wish. I’m sorry… Pidea.”
In a room in Myrdin filled wall to wall with books, the space clearly revealed its owner’s tastes.
The numerous vases placed on the table and windowsill were all filled exclusively with cyclamen. From an aesthetic standpoint, it lacked harmony, but the room’s owner paid no attention to such things.
What filled the room instead was a terrible stench.
Someone had once told her the scent was sweet, but no one said that anymore.
Leni, the owner of the room, spent most of her days either reading or crying. On particularly gloomy days, she would cry from morning until night without stopping.
After exhausting herself with tears and finally falling asleep, nightmares would begin at night.
Before, she had dreamed of her sister dying.
Now, someone else appeared.
He would come running to protect her.
He would fight for her, only to be killed by the endless swarm of monsters that came rushing in.
Even as he died,
Even as he was dying,
He would reach out to her with his final breath, eyes fixed only on her.
‘No, no, please, please…! Just kill me instead. Kill me… please! I’m sorry, Priest Emil. If only I had died. It should have been me!’
The dream never ended.
Just as Leni wailed in sorrow and fell into despair, he would appear again and embrace her.
Leni would fall in love with him once more,
He would save her just the same,
And then die again while protecting her.
Sorrow would return.
It was painful.
So painful she thought she would go mad.
Even within that agony, he would never allow her to die.
It would be better if she died.
If death could free her from this sorrow…
But he would save her again,
And once more, he would leave her drowning in grief.
“Ah…!”
Leni woke up screaming.
Even after escaping the nightmare, she was still crying.
What difference was there between this reality and the nightmare?
While trapped in a dream, one believes that waking up will bring them back to a happy reality.
But reality was never better than the nightmare.
The most terrifying thing about this reality was that there was no waking up from it.
Even the most horrifying nightmare could be forgotten with tears once you woke up.
But in this dreadful reality, there was no escape, not even the refuge of awakening.
Her eyes, already swollen from crying too much, welled with fresh tears.
“Priest… hic, ugh. Priest Emil!”
She cried,
And cried again,
Only when the tears finally ran dry did she stagger to her feet.
To change her mood, she would smell the flowers or read a book.
The floral scent could briefly bring back happy memories and create a fleeting illusion of joy.
Reading allowed her to escape, if only for a moment, from the endless cycle of sorrow and pain.
But once those moments ended, an infinite emptiness and futility would rush back in.
“Ugh, ugh…!”
Then the tears would flow again,
And sometimes she would harm herself in her grief.
Scratching at her chest with her nails brought terrible pain, but that physical agony could momentarily dull the mental torment.
It also gave her the illusion that someone might appear and gently stroke her chest, healing her.
But that too had its limits.
In the end, it was only painful,
And soon she would grow tired and give up.
After that, she would change her clothes.
If anyone came to visit and saw her in this state, they would surely report it to her sister Alena, and that would only hurt her sister’s heart.
She didn’t want to cause her sister the same pain.
The wounds on her chest didn’t matter.
In her current state, with the curse condensed within her, minor injuries healed almost instantly.
Occasionally, meals would be brought in through the door.
Maids who had drunk large amounts of holy water would enter for a very short time, bringing fresh clothes and food, roughly cleaning the room before leaving again.
Once they were gone,
She would return to reading, smelling the flowers, or crying once more…
“Sob, ugh, hic…”
For an ordinary person, even the saddest events would eventually fade with time.
But for Leni, who was cursed…
The demonic energy filled with negative power saturated her with feelings of depression and pain, reviving sad memories that could not be washed away no matter how many tears she shed.
‘Priest.’
“Priest.”
‘I miss you.’
“I miss you. I miss you.”
Some days she would have a different dream.
In front of Leni, who was calling for him in the depths of her sorrow, the priest would appear, smiling as he embraced her.
She would be startled, yet so overjoyed that she would hug him back, filled with happiness.
But once again, the priest would die for her, and once again she would fall into grief.
The end of her dreams was always a nightmare.
‘Emil… Priest.’
At that moment,
The door opened.
“Ah…?”
It felt strange.
The maids never entered Leni’s room several times a day.
Had they forgotten something?
“My god… Princess?”
But the voice that followed left Leni stunned.
The person revealed as the door opened was Emil—the one she had waited for and longed for so desperately.
“Priest… Emil.”
Was she dreaming again?
Was he appearing once more to give her hope, only to bring her an indelible sorrow with his terrible death?
But that voice,
That expression as he looked at her,
Were far too vivid.
“Priest… Is it really you?”
No.
It couldn’t be.
This was a dream.
“Princess… Leni.”
Even the way he called her name.
It was all just a dream.
“Priest! Priest Emil!”
Yet Leni rose to her feet.
Even if this was a dream, it was fine.
Even if it turned into a nightmare moments later.
Staggering, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms.
“Priest, is it really you? Is it truly you?”
“Yes, it is me, Princess.”
Leni looked up at him in a daze.
Her mind seemed to reject what it was seeing.
The time she had spent accepting his death had been too long,
And her longing for him to be alive had been too desperate. The sight before her felt almost unreal.
“Ah, aah…”
Leni reached out and touched Emil, who was holding her.
Was it really him?
Was this the warmth of a living person?
Or was it merely an afterimage left in her memory?
She reached out again, placing her hand on his chest.
The faint body heat that seeped through the fabric quietly enveloped her fingertips.
He was alive.
Emil was alive.
His heart was beating—slowly, but clearly.
This was not a dream.
She felt as if she would stop breathing.
Her breath caught,
Her chest ached,
And none of it felt real yet.
But when Emil gently lifted his hand and placed it on her shoulder,
When she felt his body heat through his palm,
It quietly settled within her that this was real.
“Princess.”
“Priest. Emil… Priest.”
She no longer hesitated.
Quietly, slowly, she leaned her body against his chest.
Like a person collapsing, as if the emotional balance she had been barely maintaining had shattered in an instant.
His embrace was warm, and his body heat was something she had missed so terribly.
“You really… were alive.”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
It was a loose but definite embrace.
Leni quietly closed her eyes.
The tears that had pooled at the corners of her eyes finally fell.
It was a joyful thing.
It was an incredibly joyful thing.
So why was she crying?
She had tried so hard not to cry, but suppressed emotions always leaked out first through the eyes.
“…Thank you for coming back to me.”
The words came out in little more than a whisper.
There was no reply.
But the arms holding her tightened.
Within that embrace, Leni felt the long years of pain slowly begin to crumble.
The prolonged sorrow, the guilt, the regret.
They didn’t all disappear.
But as long as this warmth existed,
All that pain became something she could endure, even if only a little.
For that moment, she thought it would be fine even if it were a dream.
But she knew for certain.
This was not a dream.