Chapter 2
In the end, she was forced to cruelly bring up something she had vowed never to mention again — an event from long ago, kept secret for the sake of a friend’s honor.
“Who was it that saved you when your father abandoned you as a ‘monster’ and you lived like livestock? It was me! If it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have formed a family — you wouldn’t have even lived to see your tenth birthday! Have you forgotten all of that?!”
At Akali’s outburst, the dead light in Asmof’s eyes flickered. But she quickly stifled any emotion and replied in a flat voice, as if she had never wavered.
“Yes… that did happen.”
“If you remember, then leave us alone — even now.”
“But even setting that debt aside… it doesn’t balance out.”
Ignoring Akali, Asmof reached toward the children of Lubal standing behind her. Akali’s face twisted in despair.
“Here’s what I’ll do. For now, I won’t kill the princes.”
“For now?”
“But… we must make a contract. A contract bound by magic.”
The moment her declaration ended, the mana in the air began to surge. The fierce golden mana — dyed like sunlight — was the very symbol of the Archmage Asmof.
Sensing the danger instinctively, Akali and the children tried to flee, but there was nowhere to hide within the golden mist that now dominated the space.
“Because of Lubal’s atrocities, I lost eternity. And with the death of my only child, Eddie, the history I built will end with me — the great history I piled up with pain and obsession.”
“Nothing will change by doing this!”
“It is unjust for only Lubal to be remembered as a virtuous ruler.”
“As!”
“In exchange for sparing the children’s lives, I will ensure that Lubal suffers forever.”
At her resolute words, the children gasped in pain. The mana had become a sharp blade, slicing the tips of their fingers. The blood that flowed rose into the air, forming crimson drops that slowly solidified into lustrous ruby-like gems.
Once the deed was done, the mana withdrew from the children, and Akali frantically examined her sons’ faces. Regardless of her murderous glare, Asmof gathered her golden mana again, shaping it into a scale as tall as herself.
“Is this Lubal’s blood? Too red… distasteful.”
“What are you trying to do?!”
“I’ll place it here. And then…”
“W–wait, what?!”
Akali’s eyes widened in horror as she looked at Asmof — and a death cry filled the room.
There was no time to shield the young princes’ eyes. In an instant, the metallic stench of blood spread everywhere, seeping into their noses, eyes, clothes, and memories.
Asmof placed the two crimson gems on one side of the scale… and her own heart on the other. Coughing violently, she spat blood, her face growing pale as she adjusted the scale’s balance.
“Khuh! This… this is my resentment. Cough… ha… Beneath the scale burns an unquenchable hellfire. It will burn whatever tilts… until it turns to ash.”
“As! As, what are you doing?! Are you insane?! Guards! Is no one out there?! Bring the palace physician, now!”
Akali’s face went white as she screamed at the sight of Asmof dying. As the mage’s life ebbed, the mist she commanded dissipated. Servants and physicians rushed in at last, but it was far too late.
In a single day, Akali lost both her partner and her dearest friend. She writhed in despair. Why? What had destroyed what they had between them? The trust and faith they once shared still shone vividly in her mind, making the pain all the sharper.
“Hhk! Will Lubal’s blood vanish first… or my resentment… Khhh… ha… What a pity… that I won’t be here to see it.”
“As! Asmof Lubaltberh!”
The Archmage who once ruled the continent fell in pitiful ruin. With her vision fading, she imprinted the tear-streaked face of her friend into her mind, surrendered herself to vengeance, and died.
She had no regrets. She had repaid Akali for saving her life; she had no ties left to a world without family. She only wished she could meet Rudvalt in hell, look him in the eye, and pour out all the curses she had laid upon his bloodline.
“But… I never imagined this.”
The woman who had once killed herself in a terrible act of revenge now lay there, an unfathomable amount of time later, in a completely different state. Not on a bloodstained carpet, but on a damp, musty bed soaked with humidity.
She could hardly bear the unfamiliar face in the mirror. It was a face she had seen countless times before, yet a deep, gnawing sense of dissonance rose from within, threatening to drive her mad.
Then — bang, bang! — someone pounded irritably on the door far from the bed. Before she could answer, it swung open.
“What are you doing, Duchess! If you’re awake, you should send word! Do you have any idea how worried the physician is? Honestly, you’re such trouble!”
“Trouble?”
“Our House Pandeon is busy, unlike the ducal estate! You’ve been married for six years now — shouldn’t you have learned the family customs by now? Anyway, I’ll fetch the physician, so wait here!”
The maid, dressed in a thick, coarse dress, rattled off her complaints and slammed the door shut. Just as she had said, the woman was now the mistress of the ducal family known as Pandeon, and this insolent maid was her personal attendant.
“…Karia Pandeon.”
That was her name. Karia frowned as if the name belonged to a stranger, dizziness washing over her.
Karia Pandeon — the illegitimate daughter of Grand Duke Luterbert, the Emperor’s only brother.
After an unfathomable length of time, she had been reborn into the Empire… as a descendant of the very Lubal she had once hated so deeply.
Karia rose from the bed, opened the window, and let the cold wind wash over her as she calmly retraced the events that had led to this moment.
It had all begun — yes — with light, expectant steps.
Six years ago, Karia had been summoned by her father to his office. It was rare for the Grand Duke to call her, so she arrived with a flicker of hope in her heart… only to be handed a portrait without explanation.
“Look closely.”
“What is this, Father?”
“The portrait of the Duke of Pandeon.”
She had heard of him in rumors — a young head of house who had inherited his title only a few years prior. Karia studied the man’s striking face in the painting.
Handsome, young, a solid leader of an ancient ducal family… but she had also heard he was struggling to pay off debts left by his predecessor.
“Pandeon is a loyal house — one that stayed in this land when the Empire was divided. He’s about your age.”
“You mean—”
The Duke of Pandeon was one of the few suitable matches for Karia, a direct member of the imperial family and the Grand Duke’s daughter. On top of that, he had a weakness that meant he could not refuse — crushing financial troubles.
The Grand Duke held great influence in noble society, even over the Emperor. For a lord with a long, harsh winter ahead and finances running dry, rejecting the Grand Duke’s offer was unthinkable.
Realizing this, Karia looked at her father with trembling eyes. He didn’t even glance at her as he spoke in his blunt tone.
“He has a two-year-old son and a newborn daughter, but his first wife is dead — so there’s no problem.”
“A newborn daughter? Then it’s been barely—”
“It was a difficult birth, apparently. With the children so young, he needs a mistress of the house immediately.”
Her guess had been correct — her father intended to send her as the second wife to a man with two small children. Karia couldn’t hide her disappointment. She had been glad to be summoned after so long, only to be offered no tea, no warm greeting… just marriage arrangements.
“I will do as you wish, Father.”
Though taken aback, she obeyed as always. She had expected to marry for political reasons someday anyway. At least the age gap was small — it could be worse.
From there, preparations moved swiftly. The Grand Duke handled the marriage negotiations, while the Grand Duchess personally oversaw every detail of the ceremony, attire, and gifts.
Karia merely dined with the Duke a few times and had her wedding dress fitted… before finding herself at the altar. Guests showered the picture-perfect couple with blessings, but the bride and groom did not exchange a single word until the ceremony ended.
“Wife, I will respect you.”
After a full day of public appearances, they finally entered the bridal chamber. Her new husband, Rubiduff Pandeon, spoke in a low, earnest voice.
“Though this is not a marriage we chose, if we respect each other’s lives and space, we can be friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yes. Friends.”
On her wedding night, seated on the bed, Karia was told they could be friends. It sounded polite and considerate… yet also like a declaration that he could never love her.
“I won’t force you to do anything. You don’t need to be a good hostess or a good mother. Just… do what you quietly wish to do. Avoid causing unnecessary trouble in the house, and simply be quiet.”
With that, Rubiduff Pandeon turned his back to her and lay down. She could hear his steady breathing, but she knew he was not asleep. He simply did not want a long conversation.
