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Chapter 01
“I will surrender.”
The moment I dropped to one knee, I could feel it. The Emperor was furious.
Why?
I couldn’t even begin to guess the reason.
It was the Emperor of Lectis who had driven me into surrender in the first place.
Shouldn’t he be pleased now that he had what he wanted?
At the far end of the grand hall lined with stone statues, the Emperor—buried in darkness—seethed in silence.
“Your Emperor is quite heartless.”
At last, a voice flowed down from the throne atop the high dais.
The Emperor’s slightly husky, beautiful voice rumbled low.
“He used you when he needed you, and now he has discarded you like this.”
He rose from the throne and stepped onto the marble floor. His heavy footsteps echoed through the vast hall with its towering ceiling.
Inside the dim chamber, light filtered through stained glass, flickering before my bowed knees.
Tap.
His steps stopped in front of me.
“Raise your head, Duke Berwen.”
Before me stood the Emperor, his polished shoe planted in a shaft of light.
It’s him. No… is he a transcendent being?
The greatest variable—even she, the avid reader of this novel, had never anticipated.
The Transcendent who conquered the Land of Death, Lectis. A Dragon.
The one who endured thousands—tens of thousands—of agonies, bones twisting and flesh tearing, to conquer the legendary Lectis.
The great emperor who inherited the Dragon’s power and founded a new empire in the Land of Death itself.
Hyacinth Bald Lectis.
“Lewin.”
At the sound of his voice, burning with emotion, my head lifted of its own accord.
The Emperor slowly knelt on one knee. As his graceful figure entered the light, it was revealed piece by piece.
A strong jawline. Red lips. A sharp, elegant nose.
And those hauntingly familiar blue eyes.
No way. That’s impossible…
I wished I were mistaken.
The person I remembered with those eyes had not possessed such a hardened body, nor been covered in scars.
“Why are you here…?”
He had once been like a delicate flower.
“Hyacinth resembles Your Highness’s eyes exactly. He’s like a flower.”
I had once said that myself.
That was the man in my memories.
“Ha…”
After steadying his breath, he reached out with scarred hands and pulled mine toward him.
Our intertwined hands caught the light and gleamed.
“It seems the Duke no longer finds this withered version of me beautiful.”
He pressed his cheek into my palm, where light poured down.
The warmth of his skin was so vivid that I stiffened, unable to process the situation.
“You say nothing.”
As if he had expected that, he sneered at my rigid posture.
“You told me to seek revenge if I wished.”
“……”
“Take responsibility for what you’ve made of me.”
His beautiful eyelids lifted, revealing—
“Or at least act again, as you did then.”
Not a flower, but blue eyes blooming with anger and love.
A raw gaze that made no effort to hide its obsession or possessiveness.
This makes no sense! How is he…?
He was the protagonist of this BL novel.
The ‘shou’ I had seduced and abandoned to avoid the original tragic ending.
“If you, a prisoner, take even a single step outside the castle walls—”
He had returned. With the aura of a true obsessive male lead.
“I will cut down everything you sought to protect. Including the one you truly love.”
Looking at him—clearly having no intention of letting me go—I squeezed my eyes shut.
No. I was about to leave soon…
After accomplishing my goal, I had to escape this place.
Because I had a reason I absolutely had to return.
To understand how all this happened, we must go back to that day.
The day Kang Hanna was born as Duke Berwen.
Twenty-seven years ago, at Berwen Ducal Castle.
Rain poured from the sky as if a hole had been torn open in the heavens.
“How is Madam?”
The retainers stopped the maids hurrying up the stairs.
“She is still in labor.”
Several of the gathered retainers in the central hall let out sighs.
“If something has happened to the Duke on the battlefield…”
“A woman cannot inherit the title! If a girl is born, Berwen is finished!”
At one retainer’s shrill cry, anxious whispers spread.
“His Grace’s only direct heir is the Duchess’s child…”
“If a daughter is born, the collateral branches will tear the house apart! It must be a boy! It has to be!”
And as always, bad premonitions tend to come true.
Boom.
The grand castle gates opened, and a knight rode in through the fierce rain.
A black plume fluttered from his back.
“That—!”
A black plume.
It signified the Duke’s death.
“So in the end, His Grace has…”
The retainers’ horrified gazes turned upward—toward the Duchess’s chamber.
Now the fate of House Berwen rested on the child being born.
A boy! It must be a boy!
“Aaah!”
Unaware—or uncaring—of their desperate wishes, inside the lavish room turned birthing chamber, the Duchess’s beautiful face twisted in agony.
“My lady, please endure a little longer!”
“Ah!”
“My lady!”
After prolonged labor, both mother and aged midwife were already exhausted.
The Duke’s mother, the Dowager Duchess, wrung her handkerchief anxiously.
“Is it not yet done?!”
“I can see the baby’s head! My lady, push!”
The veteran midwife coaxed her, drawing on the last of her strength.
Just a little more!
“Aaah!”
“The head is out! Just a little more!”
As the Dowager Duchess watched, an elderly maid approached and whispered something into her ear.
The moment the maid finished speaking—
“Aaah!”
“Congratulations.”
A crash of thunder roared as if heralding the climax of a grand play.
Lightning illuminated the Duchess’s pale face as she lost consciousness.
“My lady! Please wake up!”
“Call the healer at once!”
“Bring fresh bedding!”
The Dowager Duchess clapped sharply, driving all the maids from the room—
All except her most loyal old maid.
Now, there was only one person in the room she could not trust.
The midwife.
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“My lady, it is…”
“Give the child to me!”
The Dowager Duchess looked beneath the silk wrappings and staggered.
A girl.
Holding her head, she gestured to the old maid beside her.
“Go outside and summon a dark mage.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The loyal old maid hurried out, and the midwife rose uneasily.
“A girl! You dare end my family line!”
As the Dowager Duchess drew a sword from the scabbard on the wall—
“My lady, you mustn’t!”
The midwife tried to stop her, thinking she meant to stab the Duchess.
“…Kgh.”
Until she saw the blood pouring from her own abdomen.
Moments later, the Dowager Duchess confirmed the midwife’s death with trembling hands.
The baby in her other arm remained quiet amid the chaos.
No—she looked faintly bewildered.
The infant stared at the blood pooling on the floor.
Then—
“Waaah! Waaah!”
As if finally understanding the situation, she burst into loud cries.
“Congratulations!”
“Congratulations!”
The voices of knights and retainers outside filtered in.
Hand on the doorknob, the Dowager Duchess murmured gravely:
“You were born a girl, but you will live as Duke Berwen.”
Forcing a smile, she opened the door.
“It is a joy for House Berwen. A son is born!”
She presented the child before the retainers.
“….”
But no one expressed joy.
The knights, helmets removed in mourning. The retainers, stripped of ornaments and cloaks, steeped in grief.
All were lost in sorrow for their fallen lord.
Only a stable hand, who had taken shelter from the rain inside the castle—
“The Duke of Berwen’s heir? Born with tremendous fortune, that one.”
—celebrated quietly in the basement quarters.
Boom!
Another crash of thunder. The baby began crying louder than ever.
As if boldly announcing her existence to the world.
“B-b-b-blood!”
Even in a situation I couldn’t comprehend, I knew the puddle on the floor was blood.
“There’s blood over there!”
I flailed and pointed toward the door.
Waking up in a strange place was bad enough—now there was a murder scene?!
“That grandmother killed someone!”
I shouted at the kneeling heads of various hair colors before me.
At first, I had been too flustered to think clearly. Anyone would be.
Opening my eyes to find myself in an unfamiliar place, giant-sized people passing me from hand to hand.
But even more shocking was the murder I had just witnessed.
“Ha… is this a dream?”
With my chubby little hands, I tried to clutch my head.
No more screaming came out—only babyish wails.
Wait… a dream?
A strange sensation crept in as I recalled what had just happened.
Just before this, I was…
I had clearly been hit by a car and fallen onto asphalt.
The crushed cake, the blurred vision that kept me from seeing the license plate, the cold pavement—I remembered everything vividly.
And then I was born as a baby.
Did I… reincarnate?
That was the conclusion I reached.
Boom!
At the thunder outside, my throat tightened. The emotion welling up was unmistakably resentment.
“Why today of all days…!”
I remembered the day of the accident.
—Congratulations on your acceptance.
The day I died was the day I had finally passed the grueling exams and job hunt and been accepted into a public corporation.
Like a baby—no, as a baby—I sobbed.
“This is so unfair…!”
Thus, Kang Hanna, a job seeker from South Korea,
Was reborn as the sole heir of House Berwen.
Lewin de Berwen.
