TOFOML 10

Chapter 10

Overwhelmed by the momentum of the Duke of Berwen, the soldiers and knights of Bahart huddled in the rear of the battlefield.

Suddenly, a voice rang out, and they turned to see a mad figure standing before them, clad only in a loosely draped crimson robe.

Looking closer, they realized it was the Crown Prince, Kellian.

“I will reward anyone who removes that duke’s helmet.”

They didn’t know why the Crown Prince was here, but they heard his words loud and clear.

“Waaah!”

“The Crown Prince is offering a reward!”

That reward could change a person’s life forever.

Hundreds of terrified soldiers and knights, overcome by frenzy, surged toward the Duke of Berwen.

Ehee-hing!

The duke, holding the reins of his horse, was startled and tried to retreat, but seeing the mass of soldiers behind him, he lifted his sword once more.

“Assist me.”

Kellian’s seasoned knights also charged into the battlefield.

The Duke of Berwen dealt with each of the knights trying to aid him, holding them in place. Watching the duke face hundreds alone, Kellian clicked his tongue.

“It would be easier to cut them all down with aura… how foolish.”

Meanwhile…

Clang—

Finally, at the tip of a soldier’s spear, the duke’s helmet was removed.

At the same moment, Kellian’s eyes widened.

‘Ah…’

Exposed beneath the helmet was:

Hair the color of ash, flowing brilliantly, entwined with a radiant silver aura.

Vivid droplets of blood splattered into the air, running down the duke’s pale cheeks and pooling on his sculpted lips.

Thud.

The blood resting on the reddened lips dripped down along his white neck.

A beautiful knight, holy and ethereal, with crimson streaks marking a sacred face.

And the aura that swirled with every graceful movement of his sword.

Everything about him was maddeningly beautiful.

“Your Highness.”

Kellian’s eyes turned red.

Not with veins of fury, but literally his black irises deepened into crimson.

He blinked slowly, feeling his eyes turn to the hue of a predator’s gaze.

“I’ve never wanted anything like this before…”

His predator-red eyes were fixed solely on the duke on the battlefield.

“I must have him.”

Back from the battlefield, I had to loosen my neck muscles several times.

‘Why did I hit my head so much?’

Usually, no one dared approach me. After the helmet was removed, I was slightly embarrassed. Being originally female, even when disguised with black magic, my features were delicate, so I always wore a helmet.

“Report.”

“Most of the 2nd Prince’s knights in the enemy camp are incapacitated due to injuries. With the subunit commanders down, their forces are effectively lost.”

Hearing this, I felt a measure of relief. Now, it was time.

“Where is the Count of Hessen?”

“In the castle.”

Time to get angry.

Above, the Hessen family’s banner flapped mockingly in the wind.

Not only had they exploited my knights, but they also threw peasants, who had never even held a sword, into certain death?

Garbage.

“I’ll go to the Count’s castle. All of you, follow me.”

I took a deep breath and hardened my expression.

I, Lewin de Berwen.

For five years, I endured Rosaline’s “obsessive masterclass” training.

If it involved intimidation, threats, or coercion…

‘I don’t back down.’

I had learned it in practice, never imagining I’d actually need to use it—but here it was.

“Move.”

I slid the helmet onto my arm as the mob, rushing like zombies, charged forward.

With a terrifyingly stern expression, I approached the castle.

‘Ha. Are you playing with me?’

Upon arrival, every Hessen knight, who hadn’t even been seen on the battlefield, was gathered inside.

Most of the Hessen knights were stationed at the castle walls.

“Enter!”

A single glance at my face, a glance at the knights behind me, and the castle gates were opened immediately.

Click, click, click—

On the marble floor of the lobby, the clatter of plate armor echoed.

“Eek!”

All of the Count’s household froze, hiding themselves.

The duke, blood-soaked, and dozens of knights behind me. Naturally, it was terrifying. And—

Bang!

The helmet I carried collided with the railing on the second floor.

An orange head that had peeked over the railing hurriedly vanished.

‘The direct descendants of the Hessen family are known for orange hair.’

That must be the Count of Hessen himself.

“Did you know that, Count?”

I stepped toward the upper floor.

The massive castle, bearing the glory of the past Hessen lineage, echoed only with the sound of my footsteps ascending.

On the railing, a short, plump figure of a Count slumped, looking like a small sausage.

Oil on his head dripped, wetting a large pimple on his forehead.

“There are too many thieves in the empire.”

I lowered my voice in front of him, letting it sound ominous.

Rosaline had said that would be scarier.

“Indeed…”

Or not?

As I approached, preparing to glare fiercely, a woman suddenly appeared. She knelt beside the Count.

“Your Grace, I present myself to the Duke of Berwen!”

At first, I thought she was a servant based on her plain clothing, but the moment she raised her face, I realized who she was.

‘Ah. So this is Demia.’

With long orange hair and a haughty face, she was clearly stunning.

The reason I knew the Hessen line had orange hair? Thanks to Demia de Hessen herself.

‘This person is the villain?’

Like Rosaline, the villain of this story.

If Rosaline was a secondary villain, Demia was the main villain.

Yet… she looked harmless?

“Your Grace, I am the daughter of the previous Count of Hessen, Demia de Hessen.”

“…”

“It’s been only a year since the previous lord passed. Though the current lord is inexperienced…”

Demia clutched her skirt tightly.

“None of this was intentional.”

I glared at Lord Detto, who was poking his head behind her. Using family members as shields!

“Please take this into consideration.”

Seeing Demia bow deeply, I slightly softened my intimidating aura.

‘…I’ll deal with him later.’

Knights always turn meek in front of women. Isn’t that the knightly way?

Uneasy, sleepy, wanting to lie down—but there was no time.

Of course, I had no time to scold the Count.

I had barely wiped the blood before reviewing the treaty drafted by the staff.

‘Just because the battle’s over doesn’t mean the war is.’

Not long after returning from the battlefield, Bahart had sent word of their defeat.

Kellian captured the fleeing 2nd Prince and had become responsible for the treaty.

‘Exhausting. So exhausting.’

I glanced at the guest room provided by the Count. Even though it was the best one, it felt completely empty.

The only furniture was a bed and a desk.

‘They squandered their family fortune in gambling.’

And all of it in just one year.

Later, Demia would rise to become a socialite on par with Rosaline.

I wondered how that was even possible.

‘How did she buy dresses and jewelry with no money?’

Objectively, she was an impressive woman—far surpassing the current Count Detto.

“Such a waste. Such a waste.”

Not because she’s a woman, but as a duke who appreciates talent.

I shook my head and began correcting the treaty.

“Nun. Why are you dressed like that? Wearing those rags makes the Duke upset!”

Detto’s voice floated over the shallow partition.

This room was next to the Count’s. Ugh, unpleasant.

“I sold my jewelry and dresses to buy weapons.”

“Then why did you waste your time like that?”

“Do you want to send peasants into battle empty-handed?”

My hand paused over the treaty corrections.

“I’ve told you countless times. If you don’t devote yourself to the family, I will grant neither fortune nor mercy!”

Devotion.

That meant Demia had no choice but to marry a high-ranking noble.

‘That’s serious. I should have toned it down earlier.’

After a long silence, Demia sighed deeply.

“…I’ll try.”

She had no other choice. Any opposition could see her expelled penniless.

I scribbled a few more changes in irritation over the treaty.

“If it weren’t for His Majesty, Your Grace would make the perfect husband. Though there is a princess…”

Ah. Not acceptable.

I jumped up from my seat.

“Ha.”

I had no right to meddle in someone else’s family affairs, but that didn’t stop me from being angry.

I had to clean up anyway, so might as well take a shower to cool off.

And soon after…

“Why is the young lady here?”

I shook my wet hair and blinked dumbly.

Demia was in my room.

“Your Grace’s bath attendant…”

With a towel, no less. She bowed her head in humiliation.

The garment she wore was thin enough to reveal the shape of her skin.

Anyone with eyes would know what that implied.

“Did the lord order this?”

“…No.”

Demia clutched the thin slip dress tightly. A lie.

“It’s cold. Here, cover yourself.”

I handed the blanket on the bed to her, wearing only a shirt.

“Your Grace!”

Instead of taking the blanket, she knelt.

Unlike before, her expression was neither pitiful nor resigned.

Her face burned like blazing fire.

“Please, help me just this once.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have strength, Your Grace. Please, help the Hessen family.”

Demia gripped the towel tightly in her hands.

“Innocent villagers are dying. To stop Detto, I need someone as powerful as you.”

She had abandoned her final shred of pride.

“So this is why she became the villain. The Empire’s flower, yet a secret pawn of high nobility, striving for power… doomed to die tragically.”

“Give me that towel.”

Demia pointed to the towel she had brought and placed on the floor in despair.

“You don’t understand! Someone like you, born with everything, can never understand me!”

Her hoarse cries gripped my feet as I moved toward the door.

Still, I turned the doorknob.

‘She’s right.’

Demia’s words were true—I could never understand her, not having lived her life.

Just as she does not know mine.

‘Sometimes, rather than shallow comfort…’

Revenge might be better.

I opened the door to the Hessen Count, Detto.