Episode 149

Five minutes earlier, Yvonne had felt a creeping dread as Francis stood with his hand around her neck, ready at any moment to drive his sword into her.

“If I don’t cancel the order in five minutes, kill Yvonne. Even if you don’t see it.”
“Yes.”

Francis’s blindfold had already slipped down his neck, soaked through with rain. He gripped his sword with the resolve of someone prepared to follow that order the moment the five minutes were up.

“Sir Francis. So you’ll be killing me soon.”

“Looks like it.”

Francis looked unsettled. Realizing he would have to kill her in just a few minutes made him feel… wrong. Like he was on the verge of doing something unforgivable, but powerless to stop it.

“Do you want to kill me?”

“No. But the Emperor’s orders come first.”

Yvonne began channeling her mana into Francis.

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

“If I die, you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life.”

Francis didn’t deny it. He was no longer the young man who once believed that serving the Emperor would bring him joy. Even he could see it now—Hildebrandt was broken beyond repair.

And yet, he still waited for the order to be carried out.

He was no longer a man.

He was just a well-trained hound.

A dog’s loyalty exists only because its master needs it.

“I’d rather you were the kind of person who listened to me, Sir Francis.”

“But I can’t break free of His Majesty’s ability.”

Boom!

“So damn irritating.”

Hildebrandt and Yurian were locked in fierce combat. The Emperor had tried—and failed—to turn Yurian to dust, growing more vicious with every strike.

“Your Highness. You’ve awakened your ability.”

“Yes.”

Francis believed the calmness he felt when she touched him was due to her being a Guide. But it felt like more than that. Something deeper. Something… euphoric.

A warmth flooded his chest. His mind felt sharp, clear. It was strange—like her power was cleansing something inside him.

“…Ahh…”

But as soon as he stepped away from her, it all vanished. Like a man bewitched, he reached out, craving the feeling again.

“Sir Francis.”

“Yes.”

“Obey me.”

He nearly said yes. Touching her brought that irresistible euphoria rushing back. He felt addicted to it.

“I must kill you.”

But he forced himself to recall the Emperor’s command, grabbing her arm tightly.

“Ugh…”

He clutched the sword in his other hand, prepared to carry out the order at any moment.

“What is your ability?”

Francis could hardly think straight, still dazed from the high her touch gave him.

“I don’t know. I think it’s something mental.”

Francis had never experienced anything like it. Her presence alone was enough to intoxicate him—and make him want to obey.

Boom!

Hildebrandt summoned another sword to fall on Yurian. But Yurian, no fool, dodged and repositioned himself. The sword turned to dust before it could land.

“Die already!”

“I told you—hypnosis won’t work.”

The battlefield was wide and chaotic. Yvonne couldn’t escape the flying debris. Francis swatted away falling rubble like it was an annoyance. Yurian met Yvonne’s eyes from across the wreckage—and his frown deepened at the sight of a small cut on her cheek from the flying debris.

“They say I’m a Guide.”

“You are, Your Highness. But how are you using mana?”

“I don’t know. Tell me everything you know, Francis—and I’ll make you feel good again.”

“Ah…”

Desperate to feel that bliss again, Francis searched his thoughts. He gripped her hand tightly. But if she didn’t allow it, nothing flowed into him.

“I’ve never seen this before. A Guide with active abilities…”

“Is it impossible?”

“In theory… no.”

Francis’s confusion was written all over his face. Yvonne reached to soothe him, her power flaring again—until, in that moment, Hildebrandt’s blade pierced Yurian’s chest.

The sword didn’t pierce his sternum—just slightly embedded into his chest before snapping off.

“Vanish, you— Agh!!”

Hildebrandt’s shout was cut short.

Yvonne felt a wave of relief as she saw the blade had broken—and that Yurian was still moving.

Just as Hildebrandt tried to reduce him to dust, Yurian struck him hard in the temple with a punch.

“The time has come.”

“Sir Francis.”

Francis gripped his sword—and Yvonne’s wrist—tightly.

“Don’t do it, Sir Francis.”

“I must.”

Yvonne tried to use her power. But when he moved as if to drive his sword into her, fearfully, she turned her eyes toward Yurian. He was still locked in combat with Hildebrandt.

“Ugh…!”

She had grabbed the blade with her bare hands, and blood was pouring from her fingers. If Francis pulled the blade now, her fingers might be severed. She let go.

“I’ll make it painless, Your Highness.”

Francis’s eyes flashed red—and Yvonne spoke.

“It hasn’t been five minutes yet!”

“…”

Francis paused.

“How do you know that, Your Highness?”

“The clock tower! Back there!”

Francis had been estimating the time. He glanced at where she pointed. The ruined clock tower still had a round, intact face—the ticking second hand visible.

“It’s only been three minutes!”

“…I see.”

Yvonne quickly channeled more mana into him. Francis, overtaken again by that euphoric sensation, decided to listen. She’d be dead in two minutes anyway. And the Emperor would return to normal. That was what he wanted.

Or so he thought.

He once hoped that if the princess remained by the Emperor’s side, she might bring him back. But now, seeing Hildebrandt fully lost to madness—perhaps it was better if she vanished. He thought: maybe if the woman he loved disappeared, the Emperor could eventually forget her and move on.

But could he really forget her?

“I love you, Yvonne.”

Francis vividly remembered the Emperor weeping—begging to a Yvonne-shaped illusion. And in that moment, Francis realized something he didn’t want to.

His loyalty… had hidden something else.

Pity.

“Your Highness.”

“Yes?”

“My loyalty… is pitiful.”

“Then don’t kill me.”

“I’m afraid I must.”

Francis smiled bitterly and looked at her.

There was no clear path forward. But that didn’t mean he could stop.

Yurian was lifting his sword, aiming for Hildebrandt’s throat. Yvonne’s eyes widened. This could be the end.

“Vanish.”

Hildebrandt raised his hand again, intending to dust him.

“Damn it.”

Yurian thrust his blade into Hildebrandt’s line of sight.

It turned to dust.

“Gasp…”

Yvonne nearly stopped breathing, fearing it had been Yurian who vanished.

“Ugh…”

Yvonne turned toward Francis, watching as he gripped his sword again. Her power had only partially manifested since her awakening. Her control was unstable. She was only using a fraction of her mana. She wanted to release more—but didn’t know how.

Nor did she know what the side effects might be.

“Your Highness.”

Francis moved this time with deadly intent, tilting the blade horizontally and placing it over her chest.

“Don’t move. It’ll be painless that way.”

“Don’t do it!”

“Farewell.”

The sword pierced Yvonne’s chest—straight through and out her back. Her body convulsed in agony.

“Agh…!”

She could feel the life draining from her as the blade embedded itself in her heart.

“Kh…”

As Francis pulled the blade free, blood poured out with it in a crimson wave.

And then—it happened.

The earrings that she and Hildebrandt wore—the ones they’d pierced into one another—suddenly began to glow.

The glow intensified… and then they shattered—disintegrating completely into dust.

“Ugh…!”

The wound in Yvonne’s chest disappeared without a trace.

The one with a pierced heart now— was Hildebrandt.