Chapter 9

The Grand Duke, Ludeville Ecsepsion, strode in, dragging a man by the ankle, leaving a dark, crimson trail across the marble floor. A red line stretched out straight behind him, following his every step.

"Y- Your Excellence...!"

Someone shrieked in terror, but he paid no mind. He flung the barely breathing man into the center of the banquet hall, where blood pooled around him like a crimson pond.

“I'm growing tired of this”, he muttered, a bored expression on his face as he drew his sword. “I wish you'd be more creative.”

At that moment, someone in the murmuring crowd gasped and clapped a hand over their mouth. "That's... that's the priest who was with the Saintess!"

Just hours earlier, the man had attended the banquet, claiming to be the sworn protector of the woman supposedly Saintess. As the man's identity caused a stir, two knights dragged forward the woman, the so‑called Saintess, her arms bound. She was the one everyone feared might be chosen by the Grand Duke Ecsepsion.

"If you are a true Saintess, you should be able to foresee the near future, shouldn't you?" He turned his head, looking down at the woman kneeling on the floor. His tone was light, as if posing a riddle, but his voice was laced with sarcasm. "Will I kill this assassin who tried to poison my tea, or will I mercifully show him clemency?"

Ludeville smiled as if amused. "Go on, prophesy."

His steps faltered slightly, and his gaze was a little off. He was clearly heavily intoxicated, yet his violet eyes shone sharply, like a predator marking its prey.

The woman trembled, her face deathly pale, then collapsed to her knees.

"P-please, spare me! Mercy, please...!"

The Saintess prostrated herself on the floor, bowing her head.

But Ludeville spoke before she could finish her plea.

"Wrong answer."

In an instant, his blade flashed, sharp and brutal. The man on the ground gave no movement as the sword descended.

"Aaah—!"

The ‘Saintess’ cried out loudly, collapsing as if her legs had given way. The knights, accustomed to such scenes, didn't bat an eye as they forced her up and dragged her away.

Silence swallowed the hall. No one dared to speak.

Ludeville casually flicked the blood-soaked remains with his foot, then walked to the head seat and sat down as if nothing had happened. His eyes held no emotion, only a void deeper than madness.

"Who's next?" That single question froze the entire banquet hall. No one dared to step forward. Not a soul.

As everyone remained silent, Odely Cardel slowly studied the man before her. Ludeville Ecsepsion.

‘My Lu…’

Her gaze traced him, not her fingertips. His forehead, his firmly set jaw, his blood-splattered cheek. From the savage cruelty and carnage, she felt the warmth of life still burning within him. It was as if the sensation from their first encounter, long ago and now remembered, where she had observed him from behind a wall, reacted first.

‘My lover, my savior, my sword... and my deceiver.’

The man who once shed blood for her, and who was, at times, more cruel than others. Yet, in the end, he saved her.

'He's alive...'

But he was so different. The man she knew was a ruler, a strategist. No matter what chaos struck, he always managed to control the situation. But now, she saw nothing but aimless savagery and bloodlust. His eyes, once sparkling with endless calculations, were now as empty as an abyss.

'His memory is definitely gone.'

The fact that he wasn't seeking Odely directly, but aimlessly entertaining women, was proof. It seemed he had no memory of her, except for fragmented bits like her blue eyes. And that was the problem. He had lived until now with one goal, to save Odely. Without that goal... he was like a ship lost at sea without a compass.

This was the worst-case scenario, one she hadn't anticipated. She had wished for him to forget her and be happy. She had wished for him to live his own life. If he was left like this, he would eventually self-destruct.

"...I'm next."

She broke the silence and stepped forward. Then she slowly raised her head. Odely had made up her mind. To watch over him. To stay by his side. To fill the empty space in his memories with something other than herself.

Her eyes, visible beneath her worn robe, held only him.

"I've come to propose a deal, Your Excellence."

Ludeville paused, slowly returning her gaze.

"A deal?"

His tone was dry and indifferent, as if he didn’t care who stood before him.

"What kind of deal?" he asked, as if challenging her to speak.

There was no expectation, no wariness. It was as if he was simply responding by reflex to countless repeated approaches.

Odely took a breath.

"...I can't disclose it here."

Ludeville let out a small laugh.

"Of course. A mysterious figure in a hood, a secret story, a special condition that it must be just the two of us... Every self-proclaimed Saintess and dethroned princess has started that way."

"I..." She hesitated.

"Are you going to say you're the woman I'm looking for?" he asked without truly looking at Odely.

She couldn't answer. When silence lingered, Ludeville turned his head, as if he'd grown tired of it all.

"Time to end the banquet."

And with that, he stood up, completely ignoring her.

Odely was speechless for a moment. She swallowed the impulse to cry out “I am her!” But she couldn’t. She would die before she turned twenty-nine. She was living on borrowed time, with only about five years left. If Ludeville were to become attached to her again... it would lead him to ruin once more.

Ludeville walked past Odely. As if a miracle had occurred and the sea had parted, people quietly made way for him. On the blood-soaked carpet, the hem of his black cloak fluttered indifferently. Odely silently watched his retreating figure for a long time.

Ludeville left the banquet hall and walked indifferently down the long corridor. The further away the lavish music and laughter faded, the deeper the emptiness in his heart grew. When had it started? When the world began to go awry, little by little?

He was a former slave, a man who had clawed his way up from the lowest depths of the Empire. The Grand Duke of Ecsepsion, who ruled the harshest lands in the Empire's far north. With the venom ingrained in his blood, he had slain thousands of enemies and thwarted hundreds of conspiracies.

But...

'...It's a nuisance now.'

He didn't know why, but it was.

Commanding soldiers, pledging loyalty to the Empire. Winning, conquering, ruling. Repeat, repeat. At some point, it all began to feel meaningless. Why had he fought so fiercely? What had he risked his life for? He spoke, he moved, he breathed, but everything felt like a hollow shell. The voices of the laughing and chattering people sounded distant and meaningless, as if coming from beyond a wall. And that sensation was indescribably unpleasant. He felt as if he had forgotten something most important, something he would rather die than forget...

"Ugh."

At that moment, a sudden pain made him stagger.