Chapter 30

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 127

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Dillon left.

Maybe this means our relationship is over.

What a joke.

It wasn't even with Rozhi—a relationship that never truly began in the first place.

"Your expression doesn't look good."

Arjen had returned and was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, muttering to himself.

My mind was still blank.

"...What about mistress?"

"What?"

"A fiancée contract sounds complicated with all the procedures once the term ends. Since it's just formal anyway, wouldn't mistress be simpler?"

Arjen seemed caught off guard by my sudden shift in attitude.

He narrowed his eyes at me, suspicion clear in his gaze.

"You might not believe me, but I never planned to run away from the start. And I didn't try to, either."

"...".

"I'll do what the Marquis wants, so please grant my request in return."

"Request?"

He tilted his chin, as if telling me to spit it out.

"Help me meet the Savior."

"...The Savior?"

The reason the doctors and nobles from Persen Territory had whispered while staring at me. Now I had a pretty good idea.

They must have known the woman who killed me—the one who looked exactly like me.

Persen Territory, where the Savior had appeared. And a woman identical to me.

None of them had appeared in the novel.

'Maybe... it's connected to why I ended up in this world.'

That's why I wanted to uncover the truth.

"As far as I know, the only person in the capital who can meet the Savior right now is Princess Evangeline."

"...".

"The Marquis has a pretty close relationship with Princess Evangeline, doesn't he?"

I'd found a way back to Korea. Now I had to take it.

No more hiding. I'd get to the bottom of this.

"While we're at it, I want to be the most glamorous mistress in the capital."

"That's simple enough. But."

Arjen drew closer to me.

"Living as Rozhi won't be easy."

"...".

"Unless you plan on putting on a show for everyone—a witch who dies and rises from the dead right before their eyes."

He had a point. I nodded.

From what Arjen had said, plenty of people had confirmed my death. Silencing them one by one wasn't feasible.

'Rumors might have already spread.'

Guys like Yurta and Rihart were nuisances anyway. Time to shake them off.

They might figure it out eventually, but if they got in the way of what I planned to do now, that would be a problem.

"I'll live under a new identity."

Only then did Arjen smile, looking satisfied.

"In exchange, let me write a letter to the Seyblin Baroness."

At the very least, Michel deserved to know I was alive.

"...Do you trust the Seyblin Baroness?"

"Of course?"

Arjen didn't look thrilled about it.

"Fine. We'll probably need her help to get out of this castle anyway."

Captain! Captain!

Captain, are you okay?!

Captain!

Noise echoed from every direction.

Rihart lay buried in the snow, quietly closing his eyes.

Why had he jumped?

As his consciousness faded, a hazy reason surfaced.

He hadn't jumped to die, specifically.

It was just a stupid impulse to jump.

With his eyes shut, the image of a woman with lovely pink hair shimmered in his mind.

She seemed close enough to touch if he reached out—but she wasn't there.

Holding the illusion might fill the air with her sweet scent, but instead, the smell of blood lingered at his nose.

The stench coming from his own body.

He pondered.

Why was he even here?

Captain! Pull yourself together!

The clamor around him continued unabated.

It was so loud he felt like ripping out all their tongues.

The world was overflowing with noise.

He wanted to sink into the sea, away from it all.

As if some god had heard his wish, the noise began to blur and fade.

The blanket of pure white snow seemed to block it out.

He'd climbed this far just to see Rozhi again.

In exchange for never smelling her scent again, he'd gained wealth, honor, and power—everything on offer.

But now that goal was gone.

Rozhi was gone.

Someone had seen him lingering by her coffin and slyly asked if he loved her.

Maybe they'd think the same of his death.

But Rihart didn't love Rozhi, not really.

He'd simply lost his purpose and direction.

That's why he'd jumped.

So I'm not in love with you.

He closed his eyes peacefully.

Everything felt like too much trouble.

But he didn't die easily.

Should he be grateful for his transcendent constitution, or curse it?

"Captain! Are you coming to?"

"How did you fall from the window...?"

His world filled with noise once more.

Rihart ignored the people bustling around him, lost in thought.

Should he kill them all to make it quiet?

That would bring back the silence he craved.

He wasn't content to just think about it—he moved to act.

There was no reason to hesitate.

"Isn't it today? The day they take that dead woman's body...?"

If he hadn't overheard the whispers around him.

He changed his mind.

Rozhi's body was his to take.

He wouldn't hand it over to anyone.

"When?"

"Pardon?"

"When are they moving the body?"

The priests' faces changed at Rihart's question.

One of them muttered, "So the rumors were true..." and earned sharp glares.

But whatever they said meant nothing to Rihart.

"Probably soon..."

They answered reluctantly.

Rihart nodded and rose to his feet.

"Captain!"

"You need to rest more!"

"Your condition..."

He ignored the concerned priests and stormed out of the room.

They tried to stop him, but recoiled at the unfamiliar, murderous aura radiating from him.

Rihart was usually kind and gentle with them.

In his pristine white knight's armor, he looked especially holy—like not just a knight of the faith, but an angel.

This side of him shocked them.

"C-C-Captain...!"

One mustered the courage for a final call, but he never turned back.

Rihart walked.

Toward Rozhi's body.

But he was too late. The carriage carrying the coffin—Seyblin Baroness's—was already leaving the castle.

"Captain, heavens...!"

"You're awake?"

The people who had just arrived stared at Rihart in astonishment.

They'd heard he'd fallen from a great height and was in critical condition.

Yet here he was, walking around unscathed...

As they watched in amazement, they sensed something had changed about him.

The holy Holy Knight Captain was gone. In his place stood a fallen knight with dull, murky eyes. Rihart set off toward the departing carriage.

"Captain! Where are you going?!"

Shouts of surprise rang out, but he paid them no mind.

"...Heard he was badly hurt. Did he hit his head hard?"

His bizarre behavior made such questions natural.

Rihart followed the carriage, ignoring every gaze.

It headed toward the mountainside.

He trailed it obediently at first—then leaped right in front of it.

"Gah!"

The coachman yanked the reins in panic, and the horses reared up with shrill whinnies.

"What the—?!"

The coachman yelled in shock but fell silent upon seeing the noble bearing of the man blocking them.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

The carriage door flew open. Michel jumped out, startled.

She stared at Rihart in wide-eyed surprise.

"What brings the Captain here...?"

Rihart had zero interest in her.

He brushed past and headed straight for the coffin loaded at the back.

Finally sensing something ominous, Michel rushed forward.

"What is the meaning of this insolence?!"

"Is the coffin here?"

"I asked you first—what is this rudeness?!"

Has this guy lost his mind?

Michel was utterly flustered by the sudden turn of events.

She'd always thought him slimy, like a snake in her gut, but he'd at least kept up the perfect saintly facade with those fake smiles.

This reckless behavior from him was unbelievable.

"Captain, I'll take this straight to the temple myself. Step back now."

"Do whatever."

"What?"

Rihart shoved past her and climbed onto the baggage cart as he pleased.

"What are you doing?! Get off...!"

Michel whipped around to her knights, but they hesitated, hands merely gripping their sword hilts.

They instinctively knew charging at Rihart now meant not surviving.

That let Rihart reach the coffin without issue.

His blackened, dead eyes fixed on it. Without hesitation, he shoved off the lid.

"...!"