Chapter 31

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 128

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The coffin was empty.

Rihart stared at the empty coffin for a moment before turning his head toward the frozen Michel.

"What is the meaning of this, Seyblin Baroness?"

"......"

"I heard you were the one retrieving the body..."

Rihart's gaze turned icy cold.

Michel bit her innocent lips, unable to muster a single reply.

She hadn't expected him to check so brazenly. What a blunder.

"Where is the body?"

"......"

"Ah, did you perhaps leave it back at the Northern Region fortress?"

"......"

"No, you didn't."

Michel's head snapped up in shock at the sudden shift to informal speech as she looked at Rihart.

This was a completely different man from the one who always cloaked himself in refined elegance, spouting polite words and painted courtesy.

Rihart no longer seemed inclined to put on any pretense for her.

"Why can't you say a word?"

He trailed his fingers slowly over the coffin, then let his hand drop without regret as he approached her.

"......I was just as shocked and couldn't speak. The body vanishing like this—something must have gone wrong."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, I had no idea. It must be some kind of mistake..."

"A mistake?"

The corner of Rihart's mouth twisted upward at an angle.

"A mistake. Right, a mistake."

"......"

"No body means the coffin wouldn't have been that heavy. And yet you didn't notice?"

With every word he uttered, his voice carried a murderous edge, slicing across her skin like a frigid blade.

"The servants moving the coffin must have been tired and slipped up."

But Rihart showed no sign of believing her.

Michel paled, struggling to meet his gaze.

"I'll ask one last time. Where is the body?"

Michel's face drained of color, but she stood her ground and pushed back fiercely.

"I have no idea what this insolence is about! Not only did you ambush my carriage out of nowhere, but why on earth would I steal the body?!"

"......"

Michel glared at Rihart in outrage.

"Does the temple know about this?"

It was laughable, like a cornered rat trying to scare off a lion.

But as always, no matter how fiercely the rat charged, it could never harm the lion.

Should I just kill her?

There was no longer any reason to hesitate.

His grip tightened on the sword hilt.

Rihart moved to draw his blade.

If words wouldn't get through, he'd make her listen another way.

But in that instant, a fleeting thought crossed his mind, and he withdrew his arm.

"I see. My apologies."

Michel looked puzzled as Rihart unexpectedly backed down.

"With Demon Worshippers stirring things up, I suppose I've been on edge. I hope you'll forgive me, Baroness, with your generous heart."

His actions seemed excessive for mere edginess, but Michel nodded meekly.

After all, with the situation unfavorable to her as well, it was best to keep quiet.

I absolutely cannot let them know Lina is alive.

It was just a few days ago that Michel had headed north to retrieve the body, weeping endlessly and burning with unresolved grief.

That's when Marquis Evantes's urgent letter arrived.

Incredibly, it contained a note saying Lina was alive.

She couldn't even describe her joy.

I'll never let Lina fall into danger again.

To that end, she had to pretend to retrieve the body from the north first.

The letter had asked for exactly that kind of help.

"Since the body doesn't seem to be here, we should hurry and search for it."

"......Yes, I think I need to rush back to the Northern Region fortress too, Captain."

Rihart gave her a meaningful smile.

"Indeed. You head to the fortress, Baroness."

"......You're not coming with me?"

"There's no point in everyone focusing on one place."

Rihart flashed her a grin and departed.

As soon as he was gone, Michel felt her legs go weak.

She clenched her fists tightly to keep from collapsing.

Those mad blue eyes lingered in her mind.

"Insane bastard..."

She shuddered, recalling the discomfort anew.

Come to think of it, they said Marquis Evantes was leaving today too.

It was something she'd overheard but ignored, too focused on retrieving Rozhi's body.

The murmurs around him now echoed strangely in Rihart's ears.

Perhaps...

That man might be involved.

Rihart set off once more to find her.

He would locate Rozhi's body and claim it, no matter what.

And after that...

Then next...

And after that...

His mood sank to the depths again, but he couldn't afford to crumble yet.

He turned toward the wilted trees, drooping as if life had drained from them.

Pristine white snow settled on bare branches.

No matter how he tried not to think, grim memories unfolded before him like phantoms.

Rozhi, buried in that snow, lifeless.

"Damn it..."

His hurried steps slowed.

He had scoured the mountains for hours, yet his breathing never faltered.

Each step only felt like sinking deeper into a quagmire.

Then,

"Rihart."

The voice that had once drawn him sweetly into that mire fluttered toward him like a butterfly.

He whipped around toward the source like a madman.

Cherry blossom-pink hair swirled into his view.

Burying his face in that hair would surely fill his senses with fragrant blooms.

Rihart's eyes twisted in anguish as he gazed at her.

"......Rozhi."

She stood right before him.

He stared at her in a daze.

The Northern Region sky, thick with black clouds, shed no light on the ground below.

Yet when she smiled brightly, it felt like rays of salvation pierced through.

Was this an illusion?

Born of his own desperate longing.

"Hold me, Rihart."

He couldn't refuse.

Illusion or not, it didn't matter.

As if entranced, he approached, and Rozhi threw herself into his arms.

A slender hand crept up to his cheek and whispered,

"Kiss me."

Only then did Rihart realize.

This was no illusion.

Three years ago, back when Rozhi had fled the port, escaping Yurta with his help.

Yurta had tried to kill Dillon.

He planned to completely eliminate the brother who kept getting in his way.

But just before the blade could sever his throat—mere instants after the tip grazed his skin—Yurta changed his mind.

Brother.

Yurta smiled meaningfully as he called out to Dillon.

You'd fear not death itself, but dying without your dear sister by your side, wouldn't you?

What are you scheming?

I've had a wonderful idea.

Yurta laughed.

A way to gift agonizing life to the blood kin who gnawed at his flesh and brought him pain.

So Yurta sought out someone who could cast curses.

Brother, listen carefully from now on.

What nonsense are you spouting?

I'm about to curse you.

He wanted to tear open Dillon's mouth for claiming he and Rozhi weren't fated.

But Yurta refrained.

He met Dillon's murderous glare with a sneer. He could already picture him wallowing in the mud soon.

The more you think of your sister, the more pain you'll feel.

"......"

And it amplifies when you're near her.

Dillon's eyes trembled faintly.

Rozhi had relied on him greatly all this time, but in truth, Dillon suffered the most without her.

You crazy bastard...

I've always been mad. So now I'll do something even crazier.

Yurta grinned.

You think I'll just take this lying down?!

Of course. What power do you have, all bound up?

Dillon resisted.

One defending his world, the other set on shattering it to claim as his own.

Dillon fought with all his might, but Yurta crushed him beneath his heel.

And the victor was Yurta.

Dillon was cursed.

But that's not the end of the curse. Ignore it and stay by her side, and one day you'll go insane.

......You bastard.

I look forward to the day you become a lunatic.

Then Rozhi won't spare you another glance, right?

Now, only I'll remain by Rozhi's side.

Yurta laughed. Brightly.

"......Cough."

Dillon, departing the Northern Region, let out a hacking cough.

When he pulled his hand from his mouth, red blood stained his leather glove.

"......Ha."

Dillon stared at the blood on his hand and laughed hollowly.

Three years ago, from the moment Yurta released him and he returned to the estate, the curse had begun.

Even thinking of Rozhi triggered it, trying to tear him apart.

And yet, how could he not...

Go a single moment without thinking of Rozhi?

If that was the price, he'd embrace the pain along with it.

"One day, I might just go mad."

Saying so, Dillon laughed as if he already had.

Today, too, the Northern Region sky was swallowed by dark clouds, with flocks of crows wheeling beneath the black veil.