Chapter 77
Chapter 77
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: A Woman I Truly Want to Kill
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A woman I genuinely wanted to kill.
The direct murderous intent was stronger toward Rubia than toward Michael.
“Ru, Rubia?”
And then, another person’s sword plunged into that woman’s chest.
“Guhhh!”
The attacker, cloaked in a black mantle, yanked out the sword and retreated.
As a result, blood gushed massively from Rubia’s mouth and chest, and she lost consciousness right there in Damian’s arms.
“...”
The sixth person Rubia had mentioned. Wrapped in a thick cloak, their face—let alone gender—was impossible to discern.
From what Damian could guess, this assailant had been tailing their group since the ancient ruins and had gotten trapped in the world of memories just like the rest.
They had bided their time ever since, striking when Rubia’s guard was down.
It was just like the time Agnes had been attacked in the Teya Mountains.
The other four, Damian included, hadn’t sensed the assailant’s movements at all.
Even after battling in the world of memories, in normal circumstances, at least one of them should have noticed something.
That meant the assailant was no slouch either. On par with the elite assassins of the Hashashin.
“Haa… haa… haa…”
“This is…”
Rubia let out faint breaths. Red blood trickled over her pale skin.
But the stabbed area was a bit different.
The bleeding had stopped, and a blue light emanated from the wound.
Upon closer inspection through black magic—gaze, some force was slowly healing the injury.
‘A magic tool? Or an artifact?’
Either way, thanks to this pre-prepared emergency measure, she was still breathing. Fortunately, it wasn’t poisoned like with Agnes.
“You bastard!!”
Realizing their strike had failed, the assailant lunged again.
But this time, it was blocked by Anthony’s axe.
“How dare you!”
With Lien joining in as well, even if the two were exhausted, it was too much for the assailant to handle alone.
So they chose to flee. But the Red Bear had no intention of letting them go.
For their employer to suffer a mortal wound was a failure on the mercenaries’ part.
Since Rubia hadn’t died, capturing the culprit would make up for it.
“Sir Damian!”
“Please look after Lady Rubia.”
Even with the two of them staying behind, there was no way to improve Rubia’s condition.
Entrusting magical matters to Damian was the wise choice.
“I’ll keep watch. Don’t worry, Sir Damian.”
There were no further attacks, but there could be accomplices. Agnes, sword drawn, focused all her senses on defense.
She still remembered getting ambushed once in the Teya Mountains.
That defeat lingered painfully in her chest. She wouldn’t repeat the same mistake.
“Guhhh—”
Rubia’s condition had seemed to improve slightly, but she suddenly coughed up blood again. Her lips and fingertips grew paler by the minute. Something had gone wrong in the recovery process.
‘Is it a lack of mana?’
The recovery device seemed to activate automatically, but it apparently drew mana from Rubia herself.
It would require a fair amount. And Rubia had expended a ton in the world of memories.
It had been a fight driven by emotion, not strategy, so efficiency hadn’t been a concern.
Normally, this would be an impossible situation.
But with Damian here, it was different. He could supplement the mana shortage with reverse absorption.
On top of that, he had potions from Dylan, so mana deficiency wasn’t an issue.
No, there was one problem.
A very fundamental, essential problem.
‘Why should I save her?’
On the first day of his regression, Damian had stared at the throne in the plaza and vowed.
To topple both the reformists and the orthodox faction, and claim that seat for himself.
‘Because that’s the ultimate revenge.’
But if he were to pursue pure revenge—pure murderous intent—there was no one he hated more than Rubia.
She had treated him like an object to vent her madness, brutally murdered his most precious person, and ultimately betrayed him.
And now, that person was dying in his arms.
If he did nothing here, Rubia would die. And Damian wouldn’t get tangled up in it.
No, if he could, he’d want to kill her with his own hands.
No need for black magic or swords. Just grab her slender neck and end this loathsome woman’s life.
Wasn’t this regression ultimately for that purpose?
Sitting on the throne was just the outcome. What he truly desired was Rubia’s death, wasn’t it?
“Sir Damian?”
Warmth touched the back of his hand. Sensing the ominous mood, Agnes approached.
Her expression was one of genuine concern for him.
“...”
In her clear eyes, Damian saw his own reflection.
Ha. A twisted smile on a warped face. The sight disgusted him a little.
“Are you alright?”
“...I was just focusing for a moment. I need some help. Hand me a mana potion.”
Whooo. Using reverse absorption to supply mana to Rubia, her condition improved again. Color returned to her face, and her breathing stabilized.
‘A hasty thought.’
If Rubia died here, the complications wouldn’t end with just one or two issues.
Anthony and Lien’s positions would be in jeopardy right away, and the Clarent family—along with Michael’s side—would raise a fuss to uncover the truth.
Damian would likely get dragged into it too, and in the worst case, facing off against Michael would ruin all his plans.
He still lacked confidence to take on that monster.
Moreover, this wasn’t the form of revenge he wanted.
Killing Rubia here would probably destroy Damian himself.
Revenge that consumes even oneself holds no meaning. If that’s what he’d wanted, he would have accepted Ishtar’s deal long ago.
“Thanks, Agnes.”
“Y-Yes? What do you…?”
“Just… thanks.”
He’d nearly given in to impulse. Agnes being there had helped him overcome it.
He still couldn’t believe he’d ended up in this kind of relationship with her.
“Ugh… Damian?”
Minutes later, Rubia came to. Fiddling with her torn clothes, her face twisted. She’d endured multiple humiliations today alone.
Soon, Anthony and Lien returned as well. Seeing Rubia safe didn’t brighten their expressions.
“I’m sorry, Lady Rubia.”
“We let them escape.”
The one who’d landed a fatal blow on Rubia. If such a skilled foe focused solely on escape, two against one was overwhelming.
“Both of you, ease up. If anything, it’s my mistake.”
Of course, it wasn’t that Rubia, being a saintly person, chose not to blame them.
Before his regression, how many reformist soldiers had been punished for failing her orders?
Her current composure came from weighing Anthony and Lien’s value—and from her own seething rage.
A madwoman, but she grew eerily calm when enraged.
“Instead, keep today quiet. Absolutely. That’s an order.”
Rubia said with a hardened expression.
Young in age and experience, yet her face made even Anthony and Lien tense up.
“I’ll ask the two of you as well. Please keep this our secret. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“…Why?”
Agnes tilted her head. Rubia de Clarent, the lady of Clarent and Michael’s fiancée, had been attacked.
It warranted an empire-wide investigation.
“I’ll kill them myself.”
Rubia smiled brightly as she said it.
“No matter where they hide on the continent, I’ll track them down and make them pay for today. That damned wretch and everyone involved.”
The three others—excluding Damian—looked grim.
Especially Anthony and Lien. The gap between the Rubia they knew and the madness she’d shown today was vast.
Unintentional on his part, but this worked in Damian’s favor.
To pull Anthony and Lien to his side and save their children, they needed to suspect Rubia first.
‘But who the hell was it?’
Could it be Empress Ariella’s doing?
No, unlikely.
That cautious woman wouldn’t resort to something so reckless.
She still believed she could win against Michael and Rubia through negotiations.
An act by radicals in the orthodox faction? Or some other organization.
Given Rubia’s personality, she had enemies she didn’t even realize.
‘Or maybe they had some other plan?’
The world of memories was an unforeseeable variable. No one could execute prior plans properly in that situation.
The attack on Rubia might have been a spur-of-the-moment decision, or it could have served another goal.
But now, it didn’t matter.
“Ah… seriously. How should I kill them?”
A coldly enraged Rubia was one of the continent’s most dangerous creatures, as far as Damian knew.
This plan had arisen from underestimating her madness.
The price of failure wouldn’t be light.
* * *
“I’m sorry. I failed due to my own shortcomings.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. A world of memories… How could anyone predict that? Still, you stabbed that bitch Rubia in the chest, so our little brother must be in a better mood, right?”
“…Well, somewhat.”
In Boris and Erewin’s tent. Ciel bowed stiffly.
The original plan had been for Ciel to attack Rubia, frame Damian as the culprit, and have Boris step in to help.
But with all six, Ciel included, sucked into the world of memories, the plan fell apart.
So they’d settled for just hitting Rubia. Not killing her, but inflicting a mortal wound.
Yet some magic had fully healed her.
And then she’d said nothing about the attack and returned to Clarent territory.
“...”
Frankly, such schemes were no longer Erewin’s concern.
What shocked her more was that the Empress’s sword, Ciel, had sided with Boris.
‘So this is the basis for his confidence.’
It wasn’t just Ciel’s skill.
Her Imperial Majesty the Empress, who trusted no one, made a sole exception for Ciel.
She trusted Ciel more than her own blood children.
Abigail’s dream was to seat her bloodline on the throne.
It didn’t matter who. With Ciel on board, Boris’s ascension wasn’t impossible.
“But what’s your secret, Boris? How’d you win her over?”
“Oh, that’s…”
Boris suddenly stood and approached Ciel. Then—
“Eeeeeek! You crazy son of a bitch!!”
Boris wrapped an arm around Ciel’s waist and pulled her close.
He didn’t stop there, pressing his lips to hers.
“!!”
Ciel initially resisted, but as Boris persisted forcefully, she eventually closed her eyes and yielded.
For several seconds, their tongues and saliva intertwined. Erewin could barely hold back her nausea.
Boris and Ciel were siblings who’d shared their mother’s womb for ten months, and she’d known Ciel practically like an older sister since childhood.
Haa… haa… The pair’s ragged breaths mingled.
Boris stroked the back of Ciel’s head and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Guess I can’t help being His Majesty’s son. You’re more appealing than those prissy noble bitches.”
“If you say that in front of Her Majesty… it won’t end quietly.”
“I’d rather not hear it from a girl who wants to roll in the hay with her half-brother.”
“You…!”
“Ah, seriously. I’ll make you Empress when I’m Emperor. Take it, Damian.”
With that, still hungry it seemed, he groped Ciel’s body thoroughly.
Erewin couldn’t fathom why he was doing this in front of her. He should keep his weird fetishes to himself.
“Ciel, what do you want? If I become Emperor, want me to make you Empress?”
“I’m not noble enough for such a seat.”
“Hahaha. Politically, it’d be tricky, sure. But I love only you. This is real.”
“Th-Then… when did you two…?”
Watching their affection, Erewin’s face flushed.
As twins, Boris spent the most time with her. She’d never dreamed he and Ciel were like this.
“Longer than you think. Ciel was the first one I ever wanted to have.”
“C-Ciel. You’re not being blackmailed or anything, right?”
“No. I am Her Majesty the Empress’s sword. And I am also Sir Boris’s. The two are not in conflict.”
If Her Majesty found out, how would she react?
Would she cast out Ciel? Or Boris?
Both? Or turn a blind eye?
“Ah… suddenly, I can’t hold back.”
Boris scooped Ciel up in his arms.
Hng— To hear such a moan from a woman who’d always been so rigid. Today might be the most shocking day of Erewin’s life.
“Wanna watch?”
“You crazy son of a bitch.”
Boris carried Ciel to his chambers. Judging by their state, Erewin might eat dinner alone tonight.
“Haha. Still…”
She couldn’t help but smile a little.
Boris had laid bare even his flaws without reservation.
It meant he trusted Erewin completely—and didn’t see her as a rival.
So, she still had a chance.
* * *
Citing personal matters, Rubia fully withdrew from the subjugation force. The Red Bear mercs, Anthony and Lien, followed their employer.
“Despite all the complications, I won’t forget my connection with you, Sir Damian.”
“I look forward to seeing you again.”
The remaining subjugation wrapped up smoothly, and word came that he could return to the Magic Tower.
“Sir Damian?”
In the rattling carriage, Damian slumped, resting his head on Agnes’s shoulder.
“...”
He looked dead asleep. Agnes smiled softly, brushing away the sweat-matted hair from his forehead.
Damian usually acted far beyond his years, but asleep like this, he seemed somehow boyish.
‘That expression back then…’
Suddenly, the scene of Rubia’s attack flashed in her mind.
Damian placing both hands on her neck, wearing that eerie smile—it reappeared vividly.
She knew Damian harbored deep ill will toward Rubia.
But that expression went beyond mere anger.
It was hatred transcending rage. The face of someone whose most precious thing had been stolen.
Agnes knew it best herself. If her uncle and half-sibling lay before her, she’d wear the same.
But there was no such grudge between Damian and Rubia.
Rubia couldn’t have been involved in his mother Marian Renekht’s death, and his family—Anna and Felix—were healthy.
“What torments you so?”
Deep in slumber, Damian couldn’t hear, but Agnes whispered anyway.
Just as she hid things from him, he hid things from her.
Yet today, seeing him try to handle everything alone, he seemed a bit pitiful.
How could she support him?
In the carriage heading to the Magic Tower, Agnes pondered something she never would have half a year ago.