Chapter 111

What is this strange sensation? This pleasant tension and the faint discomfort that comes with it.

It’s like feeling both the high and the hangover at the same time—a disgustingly good feeling.

The arrow that should have pierced my chest had disappeared without a trace. What is this phenomenon?

With nothing clear, I felt a bit annoyed.

“Raul…”

“What is it now?”

In the midst of it all, the Countess’s voice only irritated me. Like the buzzing of a mosquito in my ear while I’m nursing a hangover.

“What is this miracle? What trick did you use…”

“Is it so lamentable that I didn’t die? Enough to make you shed tears?”

So, I transformed the lump in my heart into sharp words and shot them out.

I didn’t feel anything particular about it. The Countess had done the same to me.

Even after hearing my sharp words, the Countess didn’t retaliate.

“Raul Berze. My son.”

“It seems you’re looking for two people at once. Raul Berze may be here, but your son doesn’t exist. That fool died in the courtroom that day…!”

“I’m sorry.”

“What…?”

“I admit that my apology was wrong. I should have said sorry first. I have nothing to say. My son. I’m truly sorry.”

Why now?

Why say this when I was about to give up everything?

Why do you appear before me, ready to abandon it all, and shake the things I’ve already given up on?

Are you mocking the me who desperately longed for this moment?

Even if I’m trying to kill my emotions, there’s a line.

The only reason I’m not killing this woman is because I know the Count… no, my father and Rizel wouldn’t want it.

“Don’t make me laugh…”

I couldn’t bring myself to kill this emotion.

How could I kill the emotion created by the past me who worked so hard to hear a single warm word from her?

It would be like denying that version of myself. The me who endured everything to hear a kind word, who watched the coffee on the table grow cold while waiting for a conversation, who stood at the door knocking on the hard wood.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

If a part of me tries to deny that past me, I’ll kill that part too.

Because that past me feels more special and precious than the current me.

How could I not pity that foolish me who hugged the book I got as a birthday gift and knocked on my mother’s bedroom door?

How could I forgive this woman who cast aside that pitiful, foolish child?

“You’re a hypocrite. I know your past well. But what does that have to do with me?”

I knew the general outline of her past. I, too, had once tried to understand her.

“You used your wounds as an excuse to carve the same into me. You avoided responsibility for what you did, making all sorts of excuses, and just acted like a heartless person, trying to take Arthur Berze’s love and pity.”

The Countess didn’t deny my words. She just listened silently, her eyes downcast.

She wasn’t agreeing. I could see her swallowing words meant for rebuttal.

She was just accepting it. As if she had prepared herself to hear this much.

…That shouldn’t be. The child I was back then wasn’t prepared to endure her harsh words.

What’s the point of saying things that can be endured and withstood?

“You.”

I’m tired now.

Of pouring out uncontrollable emotions into words.

Of struggling to change things I can’t change.

Of placing hope in something.

“You’re the weakest and most cowardly person I’ve ever met.”

“……. I won’t deny it.”

“Your apology is clearly meant to seek my forgiveness. So that your heart can feel a little at ease. To relieve your guilt towards me. More than moral reasons… that’s what comes first.”

I don’t intend to blame you for that.

After all, humans are creatures who will do anything to relieve their own emotions. Heroes, villains, in the end, it’s all just a game of fools driven by their own feelings.

In the end, I’m just one of those fools too. The Dragon Queen, the King of Specters, the Demon King—they’re all just fools driven by their own emotions, no matter how grand they make it seem. Love or whatever, it’s all just emotions.

Foolish emotions that can’t compare to the frustration of never being able to meet Layla again. In the end, they’re worse than trash rolling in the streets.

“…… If you want my forgiveness.”

So, I wished this woman would disappear.

Hurting her with harsh words is too merciful.

Because this weak woman would easily break. The me from back then didn’t break and kept making futile efforts.

And if I did that, she would surely collapse under the weight of those words. I want her to disappear from my sight, but that would only complicate things.

So, I decided to plant a false hope.

“Try saving people from the demon soldiers lurking in this forest. Since you couldn’t save me. Beg for forgiveness that way.”

This woman is strong. Within the bounds of an ordinary knight, that is.

She’s nowhere near the level of my master, or me and Camilla.

If Kyle had fought with all his might, like when he killed the Queen of the Harpies without a weapon, she would have been the one to die.

“If you do that, I’ll try… a little to forgive you.”

What torments people isn’t vague despair, but faintly shining hope.

Knowing that better than anyone, I planted it in her.

Of course, I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell her that she’d die before it could happen.

If she really survived, I was prepared to make a little effort. Though it’s obvious she’ll die before that.

“… Fine. I’ll do that.”

The Countess gripped her black, obsidian-like sword.

I once admired the sight of her holding that sword.

Maybe the reason I hate swords is because of that past admiration.

“I know. That you left out one fact.”

“……”

“I’ll surely die miserably in battle. Maybe I’ll suffer something worse than death, like back then.”

I didn’t expect her to know that much.

“… My way of speaking is largely your fault too. As your mother, I should know that much. Hypocritical and disgusting as it is.”

“Still, you’re going?”

“You told me to go and fight. Then I’ll do that. Atonement is like that, as my beloved husband told me.”

The Countess began heading towards the headquarters, which was surely under attack by soldiers.

“… Since I might die, can I say one thing before I go?”

“I can’t stop the sound from reaching my ears. Unfortunately.”

“There was one moment when I held you. The day you were born… I held you without thinking and named you on the spot.”

“…….”

“But even the affection of that day couldn’t overcome my fear. It must be because I was weak.”

“………. That.”

“I won’t make excuses. I won’t defend myself. I’ll speak without considering my position. I was the worst mother to you.”

…… Mother turned her back completely and ran towards the place where death lurked.

“If I can come back… I promise. I’ll love you as much as I hated you.”

“… Do as you please.”

I thought my heavy heart would lighten, but it only grew heavier.

As I sighed and reached for my weapon, Rosie also entered my sight, adding another weight to my heavy heart.

“… What is it now, Rosie Nevermore?”

“Ra, Raul Berze. I, I… what I did that day…!”

But at that moment, a rough hand blade struck Rosie’s neck, knocking her out.

“Marquis. If you had said any more, you might have really been killed. When she wakes up, have her bow three times a day towards where I am.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Rest assured. She’ll wake up in about three minutes.”

His Majesty, wreathed in flames, laughed as he held the charred corpse of a demon soldier in one hand.

“You must know too. That the despicable old King of Specters has appeared.”

“……”

“The Empress and Camilla are surely fighting that old man. As a man, I can’t just sit idly by.”

“Your excuse is grand.”

“… Fine. I, no, I want to save the Empress. That’s all.”

When His Majesty whistled, his horse, ‘Chorok-i,’ with green flames for mane and hooves, galloped over. Camilla and Her Majesty the Empress were furious, saying it was a horse made of bones, not flesh.

But to us, both Catherine and Chorok-i are just cute horses.

So, His Majesty and I mounted our respective cute horses.

“Then, Count… no, Raul. The enemy is far away, and there are surely demons lurking in the forest. Normally, it would be ideal to go around, but… what’s your opinion?”

“Your Majesty… no, Asel. You’re wasting time asking the obvious.”

“Fine, the answer is…”

“Simple is best, after all.”

His Majesty hurled a massive fireball towards the forest, and I slammed my staff into the ground, causing an earthquake.

“We’ll kill everything in a straight line!!!”

“… By the way, what if there are other nobles in the forest?”

His Majesty froze for a moment.

“Then they died at the hands of demons. Just bad luck.”

“Sigh…”

Not thinking about the consequences is His Majesty’s way, but somehow, I don’t dislike it.

“Run, Catherine.”

The King of Specters was an enemy who contributed to Layla’s death.

So, let’s go and end this long-standing grudge.

My long-standing grudge, and the lingering obsession within the King of Specters.

After putting an end to all of that, I’ll head towards the end of my emotions.