Chapter 27. South Continent.
The Countess always headed straight to her son's room the moment she opened her eyes each morning, checking his condition first thing. Only after confirming he was sleeping soundly did she finally relax and begin her day. Ever since the hero arrived, her routine had shifted to receiving constant reports from her underlings. She was determined not to miss a single move the hero made. This had been going on for four days now.
The hero, Kang Ji-hyuk, finally seemed to have caught a lead, and his movements grew hectic. He even started issuing orders to the knights and soldiers. The Countess assigned four spies in rotation to report back regularly. As long as she could get her hands on the Mystery Stone, she didn't care what happened to the gang leader or the witch. In fact, once she had the stone, it would be best to eliminate them both as quickly as possible. That way, there'd be no loose ends nagging at her. Even if the witch spouted some nonsense, no one would believe that wicked bitch anyway. There was no evidence to back her up.
The Countess lived each day in mounting tension. She was so on edge that even a maid's minor slip-up earned a slap before words could form. The atmosphere felt like walking on thin ice. When the anxiety became unbearable, she'd visit her son. And when he demanded her breast, she'd let him nurse. In that moment, peace returned to her heart, and courage surged anew.
Then, the day of reckoning arrived. Late one night, Knight Captain Mallock slipped into her chambers for a discreet report.
"We've nearly pinpointed the gang leader and the demon cult's hideout. We'll raid at dawn."
"Is that so? ...Good. I trust you alone, Sir Mallock. Capture that wicked witch alive and seize all her belongings. The fate of the count's house hangs in the balance. You must do this... even if it means crossing the hero."
Sir Mallock flinched at her chilling final words but soon bowed his head with a resolute voice. "Understood, my lady."
After the knight captain left, the Countess lay back in bed. But sleep wouldn't come. She tossed and turned until she could bear it no longer and bolted upright. Pacing her room, she stepped out onto the terrace for fresh air. Suddenly, the enveloping darkness terrified her. She retreated inside, paced some more, then finally slipped out into the hall.
The guarding knight asked where she was going. "To my son's room," she replied.
She entered quietly. He was deep in slumber, breathing softly. Careful not to wake him, she lay diagonally beside him, gazing endlessly at his sleeping face.
Her foolish, dim-witted boy. A simpleton with low intelligence. Even the Count had branded him a cripple, beating him and declaring such a stupid bastard useless. The Countess had cradled her crying son, weeping with him. She loved this idiot child more than her healthy daughters. The more the Count scorned him, the more she fixated on her son... a fixation that twisted into something perverse, though she never regretted it.
But her beloved boy had begun wasting away. No medicine or treatment worked. He was dying.
Oh God—
From then on, madness gripped her. She'd do anything to save him—anything. Nothing helped. Desperation drove her to the witch, leading to this mess. She hadn't anticipated the demon cult, but for her son's sake, she'd turned a blind eye. Yet she never imagined betrayal at the eleventh hour!
She'd been naive, blinded by desperate hope. Or perhaps she still was.
My son, I'll heal you yet. Mother will protect you—
There was nowhere left to retreat. This was her last stand. With the Mystery Stone, he'd recover, and happiness would return.
The Countess kept vigil by her son's side all night. Just watching over him was enough. She wished time could freeze right there.
...But even twisting a rooster's neck can't stop the dawn.
Soon, the first light of dawn broke. Her heart pounded wildly. By now, the hero's team must have led the knights and soldiers in a raid on the enemy lair. She prayed for success. Sir Mallock was seasoned; he'd handle it flawlessly. All she could do was trust and wait.
The outside world brightened fully, but the Countess remained beside her son. He stirred awake.
"...Mother?"
"Yes, my baby. Mother's here."
"Mother..."
Instinctively, he sought her breast. She smiled tenderly, yielding to him. As his hands fumbled at her chest, a sound came from outside.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
—! Heavy knocking. The knight captain had returned.
The Countess rose swiftly, straightened her clothes, and called for him to enter. The door flew open, and Sir Mallock stepped in.
Ugh— The stench of blood filled the air. Covered in gore from fierce combat, yet his survival was good news. She greeted him with a beaming smile.
"Well done, Sir Mallock. ...How did it go? Did you follow my orders?"
But he stood rigid, silent. Her smile faded.
"...Sir Mallock?"
Only then did she truly take in his state: eyes bloodshot, face radiating feral menace.
Ah— Something was wrong. This wasn't the loyal knight from last night.
She pressed him again. "Sir Mallock, speak—!"
No response. She moved to leave, but he blocked the door. Then his gravelly voice dropped.
"Stay here until it's done."
—!! Her body trembled inexplicably. Gritting her teeth, she overcame her fear and bellowed.
"You bastard—! How dare you treat your lady this way? Step aside—!"
Instead of answering, he drew his sword with a shing and planted it point-down in the floor.
Gasp— She stumbled back. The blood-smeared blade was terrifying on sight.
Helpless, she retreated to her son's bed, clutching him tightly, eyes darting anxiously.
What happened? Why is Sir Mallock acting like this? What's going on?
Bad thoughts flooded her. How could they not? The scale of her schemes was enormous.
After a tense wait, someone appeared: Hero Kang Ji-hyuk.
Her eyes sharpened like daggers. "What is the meaning of this, hero—! Do you think you can get away with treating me like this? I'll send a formal protest to the Empire right now—!"
But the hero's gaze was ice-cold. "Countess... why did you do it?"
Her heart plummeted. "W-what did I do? What have I done—!"
He clamped his mouth shut, staring piercingly. She glared back with murderous intent.
Then someone entered, carried on another's back. She gasped like she'd seen a ghost.
"D-dear... d-dear..."
Worn from long illness, yet his eyes were as cold as winter flurries.
Ah, aaaah—
She realized everything had gone catastrophically wrong. Teeth chattering, body shaking uncontrollably.
Her foolish son whined for breast. "Dear, this... this is all... a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding, right?"
The Count had heard the full story. He already knew she'd summoned the witch. The rest was easy to infer.
She bitterly regretted not killing him during his sickbed. But regrets always come too late.
Cornered, she dropped to her knees. "Dear, dear, forgive me, please? Dear, forgive me."
His eyes remained frosty. He beckoned Sir Mallock, whispered something. The knight nodded, drew a keen dagger from his belt, and flung it before her with a clang.
Aaah—
She pleaded desperately with her husband. "Dear, please, please, just once. Forgive me. I won't do it again. Never, please, please..."
But he stared down silently, unyielding. Her begging was futile.
...Ha, haha...
"Ha, haha, hahahahaha!"
The Countess burst into mad laughter—joyless, tear-streaked, bloodshot eyes weeping crimson.
"Hahaha, hahahahaha—!"
All watched her stone-faced. She stopped abruptly, snatched the dagger, and approached her son.
With the world's most loving smile, she gazed at him. "Mother, blood."
"It's okay, son."
"Boob."
"Want boob?"
Without hesitation, she bared her chest. Sir Mallock turned away. Her son grinned, latching on and suckling greedily. She stroked his head gently.
Then her arm rose—and plunged the dagger into his heart.
————!!!
A, a, a, a.
He died, eyes bulging. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—
I'll follow you, son. My beloved son—
Arm limp, she stared at his corpse, then drove the blade into her own heart. She collapsed atop him.
The Count, watching silently, rasped, "...Prepare the funeral."
Soon, a black flag flew atop the count's castle.